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The Dixon House

Katie, North Carolina, USA
May 1998

When I was in third grade, my parents were fed up with our house, and our town and wanted to move us all somewhere "quiet and quaint". My parents were really into older houses, because they got so sick of the mass-produced subdivisions where we lived. And so they found the Dixon house. The Dixon house was on this really pretty, old street in Meben, NC, and a lot of the houses were as old as the Dixon house or older. The Dixon house was built in 1904 or 5. There was an addition to the house sometime later, I believe in the 20s. Well, I was scared of the place the moment I saw it. It had a strange feeling about it. It was really quite a lovely house, though, big and flamboyant like those Victorian houses tend to be. It had this big garden type backyard, another thing my parents loved, and a huge magnolia tree. But on with the story................................

The first time my initial fear of the house was validated (somewhat at least) was when I was wandering around upstairs by myself. I was in one of the bedrooms (in the original part of the house) and I heard a tapping on the window. It sounded like it was coming from the outside so I went to look. When I went over to the window, I was sure the tapping was coming from outside only, there were screens on the windows. Which puzzled me, but didn't at first scare me. Maybe it was an animal or something, in between the screen and the window. I looked and didn't find anything. THEN I was scared. I stared at the window and said "Stop it!" And it stopped. I ran out of there as fast as my short little 8-year old legs could carry me. Of course, my experiences were not over. The next visit was uneventful, except for my parents not being able to understand why I didn't want to go upstairs. (by the way, if we had bought the house, that bedroom with the tapping window would have been mine). The next visit after that held the most frightening of my experiences in the Dixon house. While again wandering alone upstairs, doubting my sanity at the time of the window incident, I walked back into the bedroom. I walked around it once, then stood at the doorway, satisfied the window had been my imagination. I turned to go but felt that someone was watching me. So I turned once more toward the room. I saw, well, a figure. I was more fascinated than scared and actually got a good look at it. It was like a fog, it rose out of the floor and then took on a slightly humanoid shape. I remember it as a woman, mostly because the bottom was fanned out, like a skirt. I stood there, watching it. It was a whitish color and sort of transparent. Suddenly, it started drifting toward me. I was paralyzed by fear and the only thing I could do was stammer "Get away from me!" The ghost (or whatever it was) stopped then drifted backwards and sank back into the spot where it had come from. Now, not only did I have a ghost on my hands, I had a ghost that listened to me. But I somehow got the feeling that the ghost wasn't going to hurt me. Scared the holy crap out me, yes. But not hurt me.

We went a few more times to the house, but my parents found out the foundation of the house was in utter disrepair. So they didn't want it. The last time we went to the house, I stayed in when my parents went outside to talk to the real estate agent. I went up to the bedroom (I didn't go in). I called into the room "Is anybody there?" Nothing happened. I got a weird sort of energy rush at me, though. I got the feeling I'd done something wrong. Like when you hurt somebody's feelings. "I'm sorry if I sounded rude," I offered as an apology. Another rush of energy. This one made me feel like my apology was accepted. So I turned around and left. While I walked off down the hall, I heard the bedroom door close. I took off and locked myself in the car. I never told my parents, or anybody else for that matter, because I doubted they'd believe me. I don't know if anybody else ever had anything weird happen to them in that house, but I DO know that the people who were selling it had only been living there for three months. And they were moving to another house in Meben, so it wasn't as if they'd been transferred or anything. I know that story sounds like a big ol' crock of BS, but it's true. After that I really didn't like windows. And ever since then, I've become more, well, sensitive to spirit activity. I've had about 7 more experiences with ghosts. But none more dramatic and disturbing as the Dixon house.

Katie, North Carolina, USA
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