New House, Bad Spirit

I moved to Arizona in 2007 and I was not happy. I hadn’t desired to move from a green state to a brown one, so my attitude about the new home was not good. I was only 12 and I had moved all the way from Ohio where I had several friends and dozens of family members to keep me company. We had no family here in Arizona, but my parents had moved anyways. I got the largest room in the house, but it was also the only room on the bottom floor. Everyone else was upstairs, which was both exciting and terrifying at the same time. My cat, Beastie, was unhappy as well. He growled at my doorway as I carried him to the empty room. It was almost 3AM, so nobody wanted to move anything in. We simply brought in the brought cat supplies and blankets inside.

That night, my cat refused to come into my room. His food, box, water and pillow were untouched in the morning. He had gone to the bathroom in the bathroom on the tile rather than come in. I moved his food and water to the kitchen, pillow to the laundry room and his box to the bathroom. He had no accidents after that. I started getting my room situated, setting up my shelves and bed. My cat watched from the doorway, still refusing to set a paw in the room. I unpacked his favorite scratching post, hoping to entice him into the room. He was excited, pacing and letting out a rumbling meow as he waited outside the room. He didn’t come in for his tree so I put it put in the laundry room.

That night, I was getting ready for bed and I heard heavy breathing. I assumed it was my dad or brother messing with me, so I told the breathing to shut up and leave me alone. I heard an annoyed growl and the breathing stopped. I got my grandma’s nightgown that she had given me before I moved and changed into it. I heard what sounded like hangers in my closet, opening the door and pulling the chain. All of my hung clothes were on the floor, pulled from their hangers and laying in a crumpled pile. Some of the plastic hangers were snapped and ruined, so I threw them away and told my parents. My mom said they were probably weak and broke on their own.

I got my clothes folded and stacked neatly on the wire closet shelves, hoping they would stay there. I turned out the light and crawled into bed, yawning as I closed my eyes. Just as I began to fall asleep, I awoke to the light’s chain being tugged. I got up, turned the closet knob and it went out. I stood on the wire shelf and took the bulb out, placing it gently on top of my stack of shirts. I closed the closet door and got back into bed. I quickly fell to sleep, waking up in a cold sweat. I was breathing heavily as if I had been running, but most of all, I was terrified.

I started my day normally. I fed Beastie, scooped his litter box and refreshed his water. Suddenly, his stainless steel bowl of food slid across the kitchen and spilled all over the carpet. Beastie hissed and growled as if he could see what took his food from him. I collected the food and placed it back next to his water dish. I calmed him down and gave him some love, waiting to see him start eating before going upstairs to tell my mom. As I explained, we heard Beastie yowl out in terror and his water dish clattered. He ran right to us, soaked as if someone had just poured water all over his tiny dwarf body. I wrapped him in a shamwow and then a towel, waiting for him to dry before letting him free. The entire day, he stayed with me, curling up next to me and napping when I sat down.

The time for bed came and I opened my bedroom door to find all of my Native American pottery (which were gifts from a Native American man I often visited in Ohio) and my other ceramic/glass figures laying on the floor. I confronted my brother and sister about it, but they denied having any involvement. I got everything put back and headed to bed, nervous to be in my room. I fell asleep and had one of the worst nightmares even up to now. There was a blurry figure behind me, but I couldn’t move. It got closer, touching my shoulder and then my back. I caught fire and ran from the figure, but I wasn’t dying or in pain. I woke up with a sore shoulder and back, getting up to find Beastie watching me, his eyes narrowed and tail swishing in annoyance.

As I was undressing in the bathroom to take a shower, I noticed my sore shoulder was red and slightly swollen. I called for my mom, showing her the area and telling her what happened in my dream. She checked my back and found the same type of wound. She had one on her stomach and her lower thigh and had a dream similar to mine but instead she was being dragged underwater.

We moved to the house we live in currently only months after moving in. Nothing else has happened since we moved out.