Noises In The Attic

Hello there everybody. Lots of people have weird experiences now and then, right. And I'm sure that after some of those experiences, most people start believing things. What I'm about to tell you is a true story.

When I was still in Russia, I was spending about a month or so of my summer vacation at my friends' parents' summer home. I guess I could call it that. I was about 12 at that time. We played outside most of the time, and didn't have a worry in the world. Until one night.

We, (there were three of us), wanted to see what was in the attic, but my friends' mom said that she didn't want us up there. We figured that it was mostly because of the mice. So we obeyed, and went back to our playing. The next day, when my buddy's mom went to the nearby train station to call my mom, we all forgot about the promise we made the day before. So my friend found a key to the attic, and got us in. It was a big enough room to fit one futon in, and about enough for us all to stand up tall. But there was one thing about the attic that we found kind of creepy.

There was an old picture of a woman on the wall, and a dusty little wooden box on the floor right beneath the photo. My friend had a skeleton key, so he could open every door in the house, so he tried the lock on the box.

He struggled with it for about a minute, and it finally unlocked. We all looked at each other, and since nobody wanted to open the box, I went ahead and did so.

We found some old photos of the same woman, and people that were probably her family. What did happen when I opened the box, was some kind of mist that floated up and disappeared into the air.

After we didn't find anything in the attic, except for the box with photos in it, we locked it back up and climbed down the ladder leading to the yard.

That night none of us could sleep, because something kept making noise in the attic, which was right above our room. (I know this sounds just like another ghost story, but this is what happened. Really.) Every one of us felt like someone or something was walking around in the attic. We also saw some sand falling from the ceiling, when whoever it was walked around. I am afraid of the dark as much as I was back then, probably because of that incident.

After about ten minutes of that, the walking and the noise stopped. We were relieved that it was all over. But now somebody was walking around outside of the house, and because our room didn't have windows we didn't know what was going on. And when you can't see something but only hear it it's even scarier because you don't know what or who it is.

The noises from outside were still going on, but soon they were accompanied by train sounds. There was a train track about three houses away from our house. Also there weren't supposed to be any trains out there, at least not that summer.

Being scared, we all pushed our beds together and sat down in the middle of them with flashlights and waited for everything to stop. At that point I heard scratching at the walls, and tapping on the windows in the other rooms. Some very scary and strange noises continued up until the morning, and when my buddy's mom came into our room she was surprised to see us sitting there in the middle of the room on our beds.

She asked us what was wrong, and when we told her about our being in the attic, she was very upset. She said that the woman in the picture was her great-great-grandmother and that she died in this house, back when she was 40 years old. She died of an incurable decease, and her husband laid her to rest in a cemetery that was pretty far away.

The reason we heard all the noises up in the attic, is because the attic was her room back then, and that's where she died.

My friend's mom told us that her spirit was still here, but she got used to hearing all the noises that happen from time to time. The reason we heard her that night was because she never liked when somebody bothered her, so she was just trying to tell us not to intrude again.

That was probably the scariest thing ever that happened to me, and even though it sounds like an urban legend or something, it all happened. I don't tell this story to many people, because most of the ones that hear it, don't believe me. Oh well, I know it happened and that's fine. I don't believe that we ever heard the noises again, but then I left the next summer to America, so maybe she's still there. I don't know.