Unwelcome Company
It was getting to the point where I just wasn’t getting much sleep anymore. I was waking up at 11:34 most of the time, more and more noises would come from the basement during the night and I has just about had enough. One evening a friend of mine had come over and stayed for dinner. During dinner we were talking about the house and how I hadn’t been getting any rest. My mother came up with the idea that my friend spend the night and see if that would help me to get any sleep. The idea sounded stupid to me, I was a senior in high school and having a friend spend the night to keep me company just seemed childish. My friend had never had an encounter with the home and quickly agreed that he would spend the night to see if it helped me get any sleep. I never thought he really believed my stories of the home, but he was too good of a friend to make fun of me or call out for proof like my other friend had. He was one of the only friends I had that I would consider very religious. Most of the guys I ran with didn’t attend church all that much, but this one went every Sunday. I figured maybe having him around that night may indeed be of some help.
That night my mother made him a place to sleep on the floor near the sofa I had been sleeping on. We watched television for a bit and then went to sleep. I hadn’t been to sleep very long when he woke me up. He said he heard some noises coming from the basement. I told him that yes, the basement makes strange noises and to try to ignore them and go back to sleep. I didn’t tell him that the noises were anything to worry about, just told him that indeed, the basement does make noises. I had fallen back to sleep when he woke me up again. This time he was clearly getting concerned. He said he woke up and saw a red light flying down the hall with two white lights chasing it. I indeed had seen plenty of white lights out there, but the red one was news to me. I asked him exactly what had happened. He said that something woke him up and when he opened his eyes, a red light came from the front door area, followed by two white lights. The lights flew very fast along the staircase and the red light turned at the basement door and the white lights followed it in. I told him that was the kind of thing I see quite a bit. I told him the red light was new, but I had a feeling that it was something bad and the white lights were taking care of it.
We talked for a bit more and before going back to sleep, he moved his bedding over very close to the sofa I was sleeping on. I could tell he was getting nervous, but there just wasn’t much I could do about it. Having company did seem to be working; I was falling to sleep quickly, but never for very long. Shortly after falling to sleep again, I was being shaken. I jumped up and my friend was on the floor crying. Now, I had never seen this guy cry. He was a tough guy who never took any backtalk from anyone, yet here he was on the floor crying and very upset. I quickly turned on the light and could tell by the look on his face he had seen something and then I started to notice markings on his face.
I asked him what the hell happened. He told me someone woke him up, sounded like a very deep voice. My father has a very deep voice and at first he thought it was him standing over by the staircase. He sat up and the man walked over and then my friend realized it wasn’t my father. He said the man was all black, had on a long black coat and black hat. He couldn’t make out the face and as soon as he realized he didn’t know who the man was, he started to get up and when he did, the man flew towards him and slapped him on the face. Just after that happened, white lights went flying from upstairs and chased the man out the window.
I sat there listening to my friend, tears were running down his face and on his cheek was the clear marking of a hand. I didn’t know what to think. I had been touched by the girl in my room and had a black hand over my face in the TV room, but nothing like this had ever happened to any of us. My parents heard all the commotion and came downstairs. He told them what had happened and said he couldn’t stay in the house any longer. He told me he was sorry and I told him it was ok, I understood. It was around two o’clock in the morning when he left to go back home. My parents told me I could come up and try sleeping in their room, but I declined. They went back up to their room and all was quiet for about fifteen minutes and then the phone rang. I quickly answered it and it was my friend. He was talking a million words a minute and completely scared out of his mind. He said as he was pulling away, it looked as though he was being followed out of our driveway by a horse and buggy and then suddenly white lights came flying out of the house and started to chase. He said the minute he hit the two lane blacktop into town, he went as fast as he could and tried to lose them. He said he kept looking in his mirror and
they were with him until just as he entered town and then they vanished.
I apologized for all that happened. I stayed on the phone with him for a while to try to calm him down and he asked me how I was ever able to get any sleep at all living in the house. I told him, in a sick way, you just kind of get used to the unexpected. It was a very long time before he ever returned to my home and it was just for very short visits during the day. It was strange how things were all kind of happening with greater frequency and
intensity. The guys that ended up in my ditch had claimed to be dodging someone in the road when they lost control and now my friend said a horse and buggy followed him to town. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but it was clear that something negative was gaining strength at the home and battle lines were forming.
Help From Beyond?
Many strange things happened in the house over the years, but one that I found personally odd, was the fixing of items. On many occasions, things would get fixed without anyone in the home touching them. On at least ten occasions, pieces of clothing would some how mend themselves. Shirts with missing buttons, a tear in a pair of jeans and even a stain that would never wash out, suddenly fixed. It would catch you off guard when it happened. I had a favorite shirt that I always wore that I ended up tearing a hole in. I had placed the shirt in the closet and figured I would end up wearing it for a work shirt. Well, one day I did in fact decide to wear it for working in and the tear was gone. I asked my mother if she had fixed it and she had not. This sort of simple thing happened on many different occasions. There was no reason for it and it never made much sense. Shirts could even be missing a button and somehow, the shirt would end up fixed with the correct matching button. You could never tell the item had been fixed; it just looked like it had never been damaged.
I picked up an ability while living in the home or perhaps it evolved. Shortly after we first moved into the home, my father had an electric drill that wouldn’t work. He was very upset that it quit and for some reason, I told him to hand it to me and maybe I can fix it. He handed it to me and it suddenly started to work. We both thought it to be odd, but he was happy for a few moments that his drill worked and I went on about my business. Later that day, he told my mother what had happened and she jokingly told me to go fix the clock in the upstairs landing. The clock hadn’t worked for years, so I went upstairs and touched the clock, to my shock and actually my horror, when I gave the pendulum a swing, the clock suddenly started to chime. From downstairs, I heard my mother shout “What is that? “I think I just fixed the clock,” I yelled back. She came running up the stairs to see what I had done; all I had done was touch it.
This sort of thing happened many times over the years that we lived there. Something would quit working and my parents would bring it to me to hold. Most of the time, it would start working again. Even after moving out of the home, I still can do it frequently, but not with the same success rate as I did when living in the home. It is strange, I can usually tell when something is going to work or not the second I touch it, something just
kind of tells me it is or isn’t. Not sure what about the house caused items to fix themselves or allowed me to pick up on this strange little trick. I don’t complain about it though, it has been very handy over the years.
Someone’s at the Door
Early in 1988, something happened to my mother that made us really wonder, I think my father as well, what the home was capable of. My mother had been doing laundry and cleaning house when she thought she had heard some noises. She wasn’t sure what they were, but she thought she had heard my father’s voice. She went looking and calling out, but no one was there. She had taken a basket of laundry upstairs and just turned to go
back down the stairs. She was leaving the room at the top of the staircase when she suddenly was struck in the head and everything started to go dark.
She reached for the banister and grabbed hold to keep from falling down the stairs. She finally was able to get downstairs and then outside where my father and I were. She had a huge bump on the back of her head and was still very unstable. We asked her what happened and she said something hit her in the back of the head with a door and tried to knock her down the stairs.
Dad and I went into the house and up the stairs, only to find the door had been shut. We opened it and found no one inside. All the windows had been shut and no outside doors had been open, there was no breeze coming through the home that could have caught the door. My father took a large crock and placed it next to the open door so that it could not happen again.
This was not good. My mother’s health had been getting worse over the last year or so, my father had been distancing himself more and more from us and now something had slapped my friend and hit my mother in the head with a door. Things were getting worse and I knew the end wasn’t in sight. The one positive sign was that my father did seem to be taking precautions. He never really said he thought the door hitting mother was intentional, but when he placed the heavy old antique crock against it, I knew he must be thinking it could happen again.
Standing Guard
Not long after mother was hit in the head with a door, something started to guard the area where it happened. The bathroom to the home was at the bottom of the stairs. People started saying that they thought they saw someone standing at the top of the staircase as they would enter or leave the restroom. The place that people were seeing the figure was where mother had been, when she was hit. Everyone described the figure the same way, an outline all in white.
I too started to see the figure and indeed, it was a figure glowing white. It wasn’t the girl from my room but something else. This figure had no detail, just the outline. It was there often and company as well as family would see it. I never liked looking up at it, for some reason it always made me very uncomfortable. I was used to the female spirit in my room, but for some reason, this spirit seemed to want it’s privacy. I never tried talking to
it, but I am sure it was there to protect against what had happened to my mother.
Next installment on Monday
It was getting to the point where I just wasn’t getting much sleep anymore. I was waking up at 11:34 most of the time, more and more noises would come from the basement during the night and I has just about had enough. One evening a friend of mine had come over and stayed for dinner. During dinner we were talking about the house and how I hadn’t been getting any rest. My mother came up with the idea that my friend spend the night and see if that would help me to get any sleep. The idea sounded stupid to me, I was a senior in high school and having a friend spend the night to keep me company just seemed childish. My friend had never had an encounter with the home and quickly agreed that he would spend the night to see if it helped me get any sleep. I never thought he really believed my stories of the home, but he was too good of a friend to make fun of me or call out for proof like my other friend had. He was one of the only friends I had that I would consider very religious. Most of the guys I ran with didn’t attend church all that much, but this one went every Sunday. I figured maybe having him around that night may indeed be of some help.
That night my mother made him a place to sleep on the floor near the sofa I had been sleeping on. We watched television for a bit and then went to sleep. I hadn’t been to sleep very long when he woke me up. He said he heard some noises coming from the basement. I told him that yes, the basement makes strange noises and to try to ignore them and go back to sleep. I didn’t tell him that the noises were anything to worry about, just told him that indeed, the basement does make noises. I had fallen back to sleep when he woke me up again. This time he was clearly getting concerned. He said he woke up and saw a red light flying down the hall with two white lights chasing it. I indeed had seen plenty of white lights out there, but the red one was news to me. I asked him exactly what had happened. He said that something woke him up and when he opened his eyes, a red light came from the front door area, followed by two white lights. The lights flew very fast along the staircase and the red light turned at the basement door and the white lights followed it in. I told him that was the kind of thing I see quite a bit. I told him the red light was new, but I had a feeling that it was something bad and the white lights were taking care of it.
We talked for a bit more and before going back to sleep, he moved his bedding over very close to the sofa I was sleeping on. I could tell he was getting nervous, but there just wasn’t much I could do about it. Having company did seem to be working; I was falling to sleep quickly, but never for very long. Shortly after falling to sleep again, I was being shaken. I jumped up and my friend was on the floor crying. Now, I had never seen this guy cry. He was a tough guy who never took any backtalk from anyone, yet here he was on the floor crying and very upset. I quickly turned on the light and could tell by the look on his face he had seen something and then I started to notice markings on his face.
I asked him what the hell happened. He told me someone woke him up, sounded like a very deep voice. My father has a very deep voice and at first he thought it was him standing over by the staircase. He sat up and the man walked over and then my friend realized it wasn’t my father. He said the man was all black, had on a long black coat and black hat. He couldn’t make out the face and as soon as he realized he didn’t know who the man was, he started to get up and when he did, the man flew towards him and slapped him on the face. Just after that happened, white lights went flying from upstairs and chased the man out the window.
I sat there listening to my friend, tears were running down his face and on his cheek was the clear marking of a hand. I didn’t know what to think. I had been touched by the girl in my room and had a black hand over my face in the TV room, but nothing like this had ever happened to any of us. My parents heard all the commotion and came downstairs. He told them what had happened and said he couldn’t stay in the house any longer. He told me he was sorry and I told him it was ok, I understood. It was around two o’clock in the morning when he left to go back home. My parents told me I could come up and try sleeping in their room, but I declined. They went back up to their room and all was quiet for about fifteen minutes and then the phone rang. I quickly answered it and it was my friend. He was talking a million words a minute and completely scared out of his mind. He said as he was pulling away, it looked as though he was being followed out of our driveway by a horse and buggy and then suddenly white lights came flying out of the house and started to chase. He said the minute he hit the two lane blacktop into town, he went as fast as he could and tried to lose them. He said he kept looking in his mirror and
they were with him until just as he entered town and then they vanished.
I apologized for all that happened. I stayed on the phone with him for a while to try to calm him down and he asked me how I was ever able to get any sleep at all living in the house. I told him, in a sick way, you just kind of get used to the unexpected. It was a very long time before he ever returned to my home and it was just for very short visits during the day. It was strange how things were all kind of happening with greater frequency and
intensity. The guys that ended up in my ditch had claimed to be dodging someone in the road when they lost control and now my friend said a horse and buggy followed him to town. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but it was clear that something negative was gaining strength at the home and battle lines were forming.
Help From Beyond?
Many strange things happened in the house over the years, but one that I found personally odd, was the fixing of items. On many occasions, things would get fixed without anyone in the home touching them. On at least ten occasions, pieces of clothing would some how mend themselves. Shirts with missing buttons, a tear in a pair of jeans and even a stain that would never wash out, suddenly fixed. It would catch you off guard when it happened. I had a favorite shirt that I always wore that I ended up tearing a hole in. I had placed the shirt in the closet and figured I would end up wearing it for a work shirt. Well, one day I did in fact decide to wear it for working in and the tear was gone. I asked my mother if she had fixed it and she had not. This sort of simple thing happened on many different occasions. There was no reason for it and it never made much sense. Shirts could even be missing a button and somehow, the shirt would end up fixed with the correct matching button. You could never tell the item had been fixed; it just looked like it had never been damaged.
I picked up an ability while living in the home or perhaps it evolved. Shortly after we first moved into the home, my father had an electric drill that wouldn’t work. He was very upset that it quit and for some reason, I told him to hand it to me and maybe I can fix it. He handed it to me and it suddenly started to work. We both thought it to be odd, but he was happy for a few moments that his drill worked and I went on about my business. Later that day, he told my mother what had happened and she jokingly told me to go fix the clock in the upstairs landing. The clock hadn’t worked for years, so I went upstairs and touched the clock, to my shock and actually my horror, when I gave the pendulum a swing, the clock suddenly started to chime. From downstairs, I heard my mother shout “What is that? “I think I just fixed the clock,” I yelled back. She came running up the stairs to see what I had done; all I had done was touch it.
This sort of thing happened many times over the years that we lived there. Something would quit working and my parents would bring it to me to hold. Most of the time, it would start working again. Even after moving out of the home, I still can do it frequently, but not with the same success rate as I did when living in the home. It is strange, I can usually tell when something is going to work or not the second I touch it, something just
kind of tells me it is or isn’t. Not sure what about the house caused items to fix themselves or allowed me to pick up on this strange little trick. I don’t complain about it though, it has been very handy over the years.
Someone’s at the Door
Early in 1988, something happened to my mother that made us really wonder, I think my father as well, what the home was capable of. My mother had been doing laundry and cleaning house when she thought she had heard some noises. She wasn’t sure what they were, but she thought she had heard my father’s voice. She went looking and calling out, but no one was there. She had taken a basket of laundry upstairs and just turned to go
back down the stairs. She was leaving the room at the top of the staircase when she suddenly was struck in the head and everything started to go dark.
She reached for the banister and grabbed hold to keep from falling down the stairs. She finally was able to get downstairs and then outside where my father and I were. She had a huge bump on the back of her head and was still very unstable. We asked her what happened and she said something hit her in the back of the head with a door and tried to knock her down the stairs.
Dad and I went into the house and up the stairs, only to find the door had been shut. We opened it and found no one inside. All the windows had been shut and no outside doors had been open, there was no breeze coming through the home that could have caught the door. My father took a large crock and placed it next to the open door so that it could not happen again.
This was not good. My mother’s health had been getting worse over the last year or so, my father had been distancing himself more and more from us and now something had slapped my friend and hit my mother in the head with a door. Things were getting worse and I knew the end wasn’t in sight. The one positive sign was that my father did seem to be taking precautions. He never really said he thought the door hitting mother was intentional, but when he placed the heavy old antique crock against it, I knew he must be thinking it could happen again.
Standing Guard
Not long after mother was hit in the head with a door, something started to guard the area where it happened. The bathroom to the home was at the bottom of the stairs. People started saying that they thought they saw someone standing at the top of the staircase as they would enter or leave the restroom. The place that people were seeing the figure was where mother had been, when she was hit. Everyone described the figure the same way, an outline all in white.
I too started to see the figure and indeed, it was a figure glowing white. It wasn’t the girl from my room but something else. This figure had no detail, just the outline. It was there often and company as well as family would see it. I never liked looking up at it, for some reason it always made me very uncomfortable. I was used to the female spirit in my room, but for some reason, this spirit seemed to want it’s privacy. I never tried talking to
it, but I am sure it was there to protect against what had happened to my mother.
Next installment on Monday
