Beginning's End

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about living in a haunted house, it’s this: you get used to it. Just like you get used to footsteps on the ceiling when you live in a downstairs apartment, or road noise when you live on a busy street, you adjust to the things that go bump in the night. Which I guess is how we find ourselves here, two and a half years (!!!) between blog posts. We still see things, hear things, and experience the unexplainable. It’s just become somewhat commonplace. Something will happen, I’ll be too busy to sit down and write about it right away, and then within a day or so, I’ve forgotten all about it. But our otherworldly friends haven’t left us. We are, however, getting ready to leave them.

It’s been over five years since we moved into our spirited little corner of the world, with no idea what we were in for. I’m so glad that I decided to chronicle our time here, even if I have been pretty lax with it the past couple of years. I love that we’ll have this weird little blog to look back on years from now, when we’re struggling to remember what it was that made this house so damn creepy. But all good things must come to an end. And so, after ten years as a commitment-fearing renter, I decided it was time to dip my toes back in the cesspool of home ownership.

Yep, I BOUGHT A HOUSE! A new beginning. A fresh, ghost-free start. And yet, I’m a little sad to be leaving behind our roommates. Recently, I took a drive out to the new house for no other reason than to admire the “SOLD” sign in the front yard. One of my favorite things about the new house is the 1920s twist doorbell. I have to ring it every time I’m there. So before I left that day, I walked up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. And as I turned to head back down the steps, I heard a door slam from inside my completely vacant, completely closed up new house. Well. Here we go again, I guess. Stay tuned, folks…

Shattered

So, it's been a while. And for good reason. Nothing worth writing about has happened in months. The most recent "event" I can think of was a few weeks ago, and that wasn't much. I was in the bathroom around midnight, and heard laughter coming from upstairs. Only our two youngest boys were home at the time, so I informed the hubs that they were still awake and needed a reminder that it was way past bedtime. He went upstairs, and found them both fast asleep. But I definitely heard children laughing, the sound was unmistakable. The situation was curious, yes. But not out of the ordinary.

Tonight, however, I have a story for you. Last night, a little after midnight (so technically this morning), the teenager came running downstairs and into my room, terrified. He said he was trying to sleep, and kept feeling someone touching him and running a hand through his hair. He said at one point, he distinctly felt someone sit down on his bed. (Which was what prompted him to come flying out of his room like a bat out of hell.)

Too afraid to go back upstairs, he slept on the couch. I slept on the loveseat beside him. Several times during the night, he jolted awake, insisting that someone had poked him or touched him. Once, he said he felt someone pulling on his leg. He kept thinking he saw shadows walking through the house.  I didn't see anything, didn't feel anything, but I did keep hearing weird noises- creaking floorboards, the typical "things going bump in the night."

Needless to say, it was a rough night. I was thankful the boys had a snow day today to catch up on sleep. (Only wish I'd been as lucky.) Tonight when I got home, all was back to normal. The teenager was up in his room Netflixing, and everyone else was downstairs doing various things. Then from upstairs, we heard a loud crash/pop/explosion. The teenager found it before the rest of us got upstairs. The light fixture in his brother's room shattered in place. Didn't fall, didn't get bumped. Just exploded. There was no one in the room at the time.

So, basically, what I'm trying to say is....they're baaaaaack.

The Tooth Fairy

Sometimes, I forget our house is haunted. And then, always, something reminds me.

We're full swing into the holidays, and just celebrated Thanksgiving at home with our family yesterday. Which means that our house is still somewhat spotless.  (Aside from the kitchen. For the love of God, stay out of the kitchen.) Which means that it's easy to spot something out of place.  

Tonight, the boys and I went out to pick up dinner. We were gone about ten minutes, and the house was empty. When we came home, I walked into the living room and found a pillow in the middle of the living room floor. Not just any pillow, but a small "Tooth Fairy" pillow that we only get out when one of the kids loses a tooth. (And that hasn't happened in months.) I keep that pillow in my dresser drawer, in my bedroom, where it's been since this past summer. How it got into the living room, I have no idea.

I looked around the house for anything else amiss, and saw one of my picture frames in my bookcase tipped over. When I went to stand it back up, I found a dollar bill and a baseball card sitting on top of it. Those things also DEFINITELY were not there before, as the bookcase was just dusted yesterday.  It's too cold to be leaving windows open 'round these parts, so it's not like the wind was blowing stuff around.

I tell you all of this calmly, but I swear on all things holy, if one of the boys loses a tooth tonight (nobody has any loose), I will motherf'n freak out. That's all for now.  

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!  

With a Bang

Things have been pretty quiet around the house as of late, but last night, our haunting came back with a bang. Quite literally.

Around 3:30 in the morning, the entire house was awakened by a loud “crash” coming from my son’s room upstairs. Then another. Then another. Then several more. Then I listened in horror to what sounded like him falling down the stairs.

I was paralyzed with fear, which was definitely not a good reaction to have, but hey, it was 3:30 in the morning and I was woken from a dead sleep. I began yelling for my son, who, thank God, didn’t fall down the stairs. He ran down them. He came flying into my room saying, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I just got really scared.”

We all took a few minutes to catch our breath, and then he explained that things started falling all over his room, which (understandably) freaked him out. He spent the remainder of the night on the couch downstairs, and this morning (after the sun came up) went back up to his room to check things out. On his floor were his phone from his nightstand, his TV controller which was on his bed, a video game controller that was on his entertainment center, and three action figures that were on display on a shelf in the hall.  We’re talking multiple items from multiple rooms here, people.  Apparently Bobby didn’t want us to sleep last night. Sounds like he just wanted to play.

Hatchet

So, my son found this in our yard today. Well, not in our yard, but in our driveway. The same driveway we are in and out of a bazillion times a day. If you know where we live, you know that we're not in a neighborhood. It's not like somebody walking by could have dropped it in our yard by accident. Where it came from is anyone's guess. All I know is that for as proud as my son is of his newfound treasure, I am equally freaked out.

3:31 A.M.

Recently, the hubs and I acquired some hand-me-down bedroom furniture. I was excited, because A.) I would finally get to have a “grown up” looking bedroom, and 2.) it had a very “country” feel to it. At long last, our bedroom was able to join the country/funky/antiquey theme the rest of our house has going. So we bought new bedding and rearranged everything. I even got one of those antique pitcher and bowl stands, which creeps people out, but I love it.

As I’ve noticed pretty much every time we make changes to the house, it seemed to rile up the spirits. With our bed in a different position, we now face the bedroom door, out into the middle room. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen “someone” standing in the doorway to our bedroom. Always very briefly, and it’s gone before I’m even really sure I saw it, but it still weirds me out.

A couple of weeks ago now, my younger son was spending the night at a friend’s, so the teenager had the entire upstairs to himself, which he was very excited about. Around 2:00 in the morning, he came running down to my room. He said he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and then something slammed on the ground right outside his bedroom door. He said it was so loud, he thought it was me or his step-dad coming up to check on him. When he realized nobody was there, he freaked out.

Last week, my older son was at a friend’s, so only my youngest was home. He was asleep in bed with me, and my husband (bless his heart) was out on the couch. In the middle of the night, I woke up from a very strange/scary dream. (I don’t remember it now, but I did at the time.) I didn’t move or make any noise, just kind of laid there with my eyes open, trying to calm myself down. A few seconds later, my son sat straight up in bed and started reaching around like he was looking for something, mumbling incoherently. Just as he laid back down, I heard my husband get up from the couch and go walking through the middle room. At 3:31 am, all three of us woke up, completely on our own. That’s weird, right? I stayed up for a while, waiting and watching for something to happen, but nothing did. Still, it was pretty odd.

A couple of nights later, we were getting ready to go to bed, and my husband went into the kitchen and turned off the light. He said as he turned it off, he felt the sensation of someone covering his eyes with their hands. He said he couldn’t see anything, and could actually feel the hands covering his eyes. That night, he said he woke up very suddenly in the middle of the night. He looked at his phone. It was 3:31 am.

So, all of this is going on, and I can still say that it’s been a really long time since I’ve been genuinely scared in my own home. Until last night.

Last night, I passed OUT.  Fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. Which means that, naturally, I woke up a couple hours later and was wide awake. I got a glass of water, went to the bathroom, put on actual pajamas, and crawled back into bed. My dog, Sophie, wanted to join me.  She scratched frantically on the side of the bed a few times, using both paws. Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch! I told her to go get in her own bed, and the scratching stopped. Then about a minute later, I heard (and felt) it again. Scratch…scratch…scratch. This time it was much slower. But I still heard it just the same, and felt the sheet tugging under my hand. I rolled over to swat at Sophie, but she wasn’t there. She was across the room, in her bed. I got up. Freaked out. Turned on the TV. Then tried to go back to sleep.

I tossed and turned for a few hours, then was awoken again by Sophie scratching on the bed. Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch!  I told her to go away, praying that what came next wouldn’t happen again. But it did. Scratch…scratch…scratch. The sound was slow and deliberate. The pull of the sheets under my hand was undeniable  And Sophie was across the room, in her own bed. I had this overwhelming feeling that I had to get out of my room. So I grabbed my pillow and my phone and did exactly that. My head was killing me and I felt sick to my stomach. I settled on the couch for what little bit of sleeping time I still had left. I looked at the clock. 3:31 am.



Cuddle Time

Hope you all had an awesome 4th of July weekend! We were busy, busy, busy- starting with the fireworks we attend every year on 4th of July Eve (otherwise known as July 3rd.)

On the 3rd, I got out of work, came home, and decided to take a short nap before we got ready to go watch the fireworks with friends.

I laid down on the couch, closed my eyes, and began to drift instantly. Over the next hour and a half, I slept and awoke in erratic intervals, all while my husband ran his fingers through my hair, which he often does when we're cuddling on the couch, or lying in bed together watching TV.

I woke up for the final time when the dogs began barking like crazy, at the sound of a truck in the driveway. My husband's truck. He'd left to go to the store before I even fell asleep. He wasn't beside me on the couch the entire time. And he definitely wasn't running his fingers through my hair. Apparently, nobody was...