I grew up in the country...in a pseudo-farm house that had been built in the early 40s by distant relatives, one of whom still lived next door in another house he and his father had built together when he was younger. When we moved in, the previous owner (not related to the family in any way) claimed that she would wake up in the mornings and cupboards in the kitchen would be open, the coffeepot would be on, and the toaster would be down. My parents thought nothing of it.
I, on the other hand, am convinced that the house was definitely haunted based on several personal experiences. Footsteps in the upstairs hallway were a constant occurrence when everyone was downstairs; everyone said it was just the house settling, but I knew different.
Fast forward a few years and my sister and I were probably in late elementary school; I was about 10 or so and she was 8. It was summer and we were sitting at the kitchen table coloring when all of a sudden we both felt like we had been scratched. Looking down, we had three identical scratch marks on one of our legs. Spooky, right?
Middle school brought about another encounter. While sitting in the living room during the holiday season, the fully decorated Christmas tree began shaking violently. Just the Christmas tree. The dog was by my mother and the cat was in front of the fireplace. Everyone else brushed it off, but you tell me that's not eerie.
Also in middle school, though perhaps a bit later as my sister and I were home alone, we were watching TV one evening when the pots and pans in the kitchen started rattling. Nothing else was moving and we were the only ones home. Those pots and pans were also fully enclosed in a cupboard.
This was definitely my most terrifying encounter with whatever was in the house. It was summer between 9th and 10th grade. I was sleeping downstairs on the couch because my waterbed hurt my back too much. The window was open and I could hear the combines out in the fields. I could also hear someone coming down the stairs and thought it was just my dad or brother. When I glanced over toward the stairway, all I saw was the dark shadow of a large man (neither my dad or my brother are large men) standing in the doorway looking toward me. He didn't move from that spot. I closed my eyes and pretended he wasn't there. I have never been more terrified in my life.
After that, nothing seemed to happen in the house. I moved away for college and was only back intermittently. However, a few years ago we had a house fire and the entire structure was gutted down to the studs. My mother's friend, Tammy, was in town from Texas visiting her family and wanted to see the progress being made during the rebuild. As soon as she walked in she stopped and said "Your ghost is gone. He's not here anymore." When my mother told me that I knew I had been right all along, even though nobody believed me. And Tammy was right. The house doesn't feel the same at all. It's much more welcoming...especially when you're alone at night.
So...what are your thoughts on the paranormal? Have you ever had a haunting experience?
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