House on 7th Avenue

Years ago when I was a young girl about 11 I lived in Illinois. We lived out in the country where my dad worked for a farmer who furnished us a house to live in. After a while my dad decided he could make more money if he had a different job. So after working on the farm in the day he took on a job at night many miles away in a city. After a while he saved enough money to pay down on a place closer to his job. Mom only had his description of the house to go by. All the arrangements were made leaving only a little paper work on her part. The day before we were suppose to go see the house I dreamed about it. I saw in great detail the upstairs rooms and the back door leading to the basement. My brother was to young to be in school , my two sisters were in school and I was the only other one to get see the house. I'd been home all week sick. My throat was so sore I couldn't talk at all. So when I walked into the house it scared me! I couldn't talk to anyone and tell them. Almost immediately it didn't feel right.

At first it seemed like I was the only one that noticed but before we moved out four years later other family members would hear and see things too.

My younger sister with whom I shared a bedroom was tormented with the light going off and on all night! I used to get in trouble for it. I would come downstairs and turn off the light just to have something upstairs turn it back on, only no one was up there. My mom would yell at me for leaving the light on. By far the basement was the worst.

My mom had her utility room down there and there was such a strong undeniable feeling of someone standing close behind you staring at you that even she would have to talk to herself out loud to try to ignore it. I could never leave the basement fast enough, I always felt like something wanted to grab my leg as I was running back up the stairs.

The absolute worst night was when whatever was in the basement came upstairs.

My sister and I had a fight and she refused to stay in the room with me. So I was by myself when I heard something walking up the stairs. I knew that everyone else was asleep and I could tell right away that it wasn't a family member. It became hard to breathe, I was cold and hot at the same time and it felt like every hair on my head was standing up. Each time a car passed by I'd watch the lights shine around the walls, thats when I decided that whatever was there was very short. I could hear their voices chattering but couldn't make out what they were saying. I could hear them getting closer and I wanted to get out of there but felt like I was frozen to that spot. I finally got the courage to rush over and turn on the light. I didn't see anything but it just felt different. I could breath again and everything seemed to be normal. I wasted no time to apologize to my sister to get her to come back to our room. My dad got mad at me when I told them what happened. He said I was getting everyone scared for nothing. Years later Mom admitted that she heard the chattering voices too.

Its getting close to 30 years since I lived in that house and I still have nightmares about it. I sometimes wonder how other people who move in and out of there can stand it, do they ever hear anything ?