Holiday Spirit

About a week or so after the paranormal investigation at our home, things began slowly getting back to normal.  The spirits settled down, the kids bought into my whole "it was all just for fun" story, and I started sleeping with the TV and the lights off again.  Only every once in a while do I get creeped out now.

Oddly enough, the one part of the house that still really bothers me is the bathroom.  (And not  just because it's disgusting due to the fact that I live with five boys.)  For some reason, when I walk into the bathroom at night and all the lights are off and it's pitch black, it terrifies me.  I start scrambling in the dark to flip the light switch on, which of course makes it that much harder for me to find.  My heart starts pounding so hard, you'd think I was locked in the basement with our grumpy man ghost and the incinerator.  But the bathroom?  The investigators didn't find anything in the bathroom. Then again, they didn't really investigate in there, either.

The other night, I was making one of several middle of the night pee runs (my bladder is seriously ridiculous), and I was too tired to even bother to turn the bathroom light on.  I was so out of it that when I first heard the sigh/moan of a child, I thought one of my kids was outside the bathroom door, trying to get my attention.  It was very loud, unmistakable, and distinct.  It was a little "mmmm" like they wanted my attention, but were too tired to speak.  But.  My kids weren't home.  And the bathroom door wasn't closed.  And the noise wasn't coming from outside it.  It was coming from inside the bathroom, in the corner.  I jumped up so fast, I'm surprised I didn't get pee on myself.  (TMI, I know...but it adds to the humor of the situation.)  I bolted out of the bathroom, almost crashing head first into the wall at the end of the hallway.  I raced into the much-brighter-than-the-bathroom kitchen to wash my hands, then hurried back to my bedroom, buried myself under the covers, and cuddled up next to my husband.

He woke up just long enough to ask me what was wrong.  I told him I'd heard a noise in the bathroom.  He jumped up, still half asleep, ready for battle.  I tried to explain to him that there wasn't anyone "real" in the bathroom, and that I didn't need him to go running in there like a bat out of hell to protect me.  I'm pretty sure the only part he heard was "you don't have to go in there," and he was back asleep.  And I was terrified.  I never fell back to sleep after that.

Last night, while we were sitting on the couch catching up on our DVR'd shows for the week, I told my husband about what had happened in the bathroom the night before.  Before he could respond, the door to an antique Army ammo crate we use as a display piece came unlatched and flying open.  Not creaking open, not swinging open, but bursting open.  With force.  I turned to my husband, who was staring in disbelief.  "You see?!"  I squealed.  It's funny how, even after all the things that have happened, I still feel like people think I'm crazy when I talk about our house being haunted.  Even my husband.  "Did you see that?!"  I asked again.  He let out a long sigh and shook his head.  "Yep.  I saw it."  Validation.  I shouldn't need it, but I do.

I'm not sure what's caused the surge in "activity" over the past few days or how long it's going to last, but I don't know if my nerves can take it.  Maybe it's because I rearranged the furniture and got out the Christmas decorations.  Or maybe it's the time of year.  This is going to be our first Christmas in the house, so I don't really know what to expect from our "housemates."  Maybe the spirits are just getting into the holiday spirit.

Breakdown of a Haunting

It dawns on me, with as much talking and writing as I've done about the results of our paranormal investigation, that the one place I never talked about it was here, on the site designated for posts and stories about the house.  Ummmm.....sorry about that!  Rather that rewrite or copy and paste all the stories from the websites on which they were posted, I will provide you with a comprehensive list of links so that you can find everything about everything all in one place.

But first.......the verdict.  After a wild and crazy and insanely spooky night, three teams of paranormal investigators and two local radio personalities all came to the same conclusion, the one I came to after less than a week of living in my country castle: MY HOUSE IS HAUNTED.  Not just haunted, but EXTREMELY haunted.  We don't just have a ghost, we have several spirits occupying multiple rooms in our house.  The master bedroom, the basement....even our yard is haunted!  Not only are the ghosts "intelligent" and able to communicate with the living by responding to questions asked and completing simple tasks (whistling, dropping things, etc.), but they communicate with each other, which, by all accounts, is extremely rare.

So, without further ado, here is the breakdown of our haunting, complete with photos and audio files: (Disclaimer- Stop reading now if you're home alone and get spooked easily!)


Here is my original blog post for Army Wife Network's Loving A Soldier blog, where I explain why I think our house is haunted, and what led to us being chosen for 97.5 FM's fourth annual paranormal investigation: Paranormal Activity: Army Edition.

After an absolutely insane night during the investigation, and a pretty spooky few days that followed, I wrote about what happened that night.  Here is my personal take on the investigation after it was over, but before we got the "official findings" from the investigators: Others.

Even though I knew our house was haunted, I was absolutely not prepared for what the investigators found during their review of all of the information gathered during the "ghost hunt."  Read about it here: Paranormal Activity: Army Edition- The Conclusion.

97.5's Josh Strickland wrote about the experience as well.  Read his take on it here: Paranormal Investigation: The Shocking Conclusion.

One of the paranormal investigation teams, Marter Paranormal, posted their findings on their website.  See what they had to say here: Marter Paranormal: Grand Ledge Residential.


Are you freaked out yet?  Ready to hear the craziest part of all?  We have ZERO plans to move.  We love our house, ghosts and all.  I even find myself talking to them sometimes when I'm home alone.  We don't feel threatened, and according to all of the "experts," we're in no danger.  So, for now, we're staying put.

The Little Ghost Boy Caught on Film?!

These photos were taken by investigators during our paranormal investigation, just seconds apart.  In the first photo, you see a very distinct mist surrounding the tire swing.  In the second photo, it's completely gone.

Paranormal Investigation

Last week I got an early morning random text from one of my very best friends.

Her: "Please tell me that you tried to get your house on 97.5 for their paranormal investigation!!!  Call Strickland right now, last chance to nominate your house!!!"

My immediate response: "Noooooooo!!  I don't want to make 'them' mad!!"

But then I thought about it.  I've listened to the Paranormal Investigation every year.  And truth be told, the thought crossed my mind that I should submit my house this year as soon as I realized that it's haunted.  BUT.....I feel like if we do have a ghost (or multiple ghosts), we're currently co-existing peacefully.  I really don't want to disturb that peace.  But.....how freakin' cool would it be to be "The Paranormal Investigation House"?!

I struggled with my buts (insert joke here, then notice that I only used one "t" in the word but), and then gave in to my adventurous side.  On the last day, at the last minute, I submitted our house for consideration.

AND WE WON.  Won?  I don't know if that's the right word.  I guess we'll see.  I'm really excited at the thought of having the house researched and investigated.  But I'm also really, really nervous.  Because I REALLY don't want to make "them" mad.

The ideal result of the investigation would be to find out that there isn't a "them" at all.  I realize that would make for a disappointing story, but I would be thrilled to have an official "ghost free" stamp on our house.  My second choice?  To have my thoughts confirmed....that there are "others" here, but they're not dangerous.  To continue in our peaceful coexistence, with maybe a better understanding of each other.

But what if something goes wrong?  What if we find out that what we're living with is something that's not safe to live with?  Or what if we upset them, and what was once a peaceful coexistence becomes very unpeaceful?

Only time will tell.  In the mean time, I'd appreciate any kind thoughts, prayers, etc.  And I'll keep you all posted on when/where you can hear all about our Paranormal Investigation!

Visit the 97.5 webpage for more info:   97.5 FM Paranormal Investigation

Surprise!

Hindsight is 20/20.  Looking back, it all makes sense now.  Looking back, the warning signs were there.  But sometimes things happen that are so shocking, so unexpected, they are simply unpredictable.

Take my day today, for example.  It started out great.  I slept in, watched some TV, made plans for the errands, housework, and back-to-school stuff I wanted to get done, talked to The Hubs, even took a nap.  (Don’t judge me….it’s been a LONG week.)  And then it started….

I was right in the middle of a conversation with The Hubs about my upcoming trip to Texas when I heard a noise that stopped me mid-sentence.  A high-pitched, squeaky noise.  A high-pitched, squeaky, mouse-like noise.  And I hate rodents.  HATE RODENTS.  I cope better with the increasing possibility that my house is haunted than I do with the fact that living in the country means that, from time to time, we’re going to get “critters.”  I had a mini-freakout, then sat, silently, listening for it to happen again.  About two minutes later, it did.  This time, though, it was louder.  And it sounded like it was coming from outside, which I was okay with.  I like nature.  I just don’t like it in my house.

Reassured, I forgot all about the squeaky thing after my nap.  I got up, went into the kitchen, and was making myself a sandwich when my seven year old Pomeranian mix, Sammy, came flying around the corner, almost as if he was chasing something.  I watched in horror as he cornered whatever “it” was underneath the bench in the foyer.  I was paralyzed with fear.

I tried to convince myself it was just a bug.  But the crazier my dogs went, the more certain I was that I wouldn’t be getting off that easily.  I didn’t know what to do.  When I say I hate rodents, what I really mean is that I’m absolutely terrified of them.  So I came up with a plan, albeit not a very good one.  My in-laws were coming over later, so I would keep an eye on that corner of the house until they arrived, then have my father-in-law investigate.

Unfortunately, my adult ADD foiled those plans.  About ten minutes after the dogs forgot about the creature hiding in the corner, I forgot too.  It was the last thing on my mind when I decided, at 2:00 in the afternoon, that it was finally time to take a shower.  I grabbed a towel, headed into the bathroom, flipped on the light, and then……and then I screamed, probably louder than I’ve ever screamed in my entire life.  There was something in the toilet.  Something alive.  Something treading water.  I didn’t stay long enough to figure out what it was.

I slammed down the toilet lid in hopes that “it” wouldn’t be able to escape, closed the bathroom door, shoved my towel into the crack underneath the door, then pushed a chair against the door for good measure.  By the time I picked up my phone, I was borderline hysterical.  So I did what any hysterical girl would do.  I called my husband.  Who was 1,200 miles away.

“There’s something swimming in the toilet!” I screamed, before he could even say “hello.”

“One more time?” He asked, caught off guard and trying to stifle a laugh.

“There is something alive, swimming in our toilet!” I screamed again.  “The squeaking, the thing in the foyer….whatever that was, it’s now in the toilet.  And it’s alive.  It’s treading water!  I think it’s an otter.”  I was no longer borderline hysterical.  My hysteria was full-blown.

“What would you like me to do about it?” The hubs asked in that incredibly rational way that drives me crazy when I’m being completely irrational.

“Get it out!!” I yelled.  Obviously.  And therein laid the problem.  As much as my husband would have loved to be my toilet-monster slaying hero, he couldn’t.  He’s stuck in Texas and I’m stuck at home, fending for myself.  That was the real reason for the frustrated tears rolling down my cheeks.  Well, that and the baby alligator that had taken up residency in my bathroom.

I’m used to taking care of everything myself.  The kids, the house, the pets, me.  I manage it all on my own when The Hubs is away, which is most of the time.  But it’s a very fragile balancing act.  One so fragile that when the unpredictable happens, it doesn’t just tip the scales, it causes them (and me) to come unhinged completely.  And I’m reminded, yet again, how much this long distance nonsense sucks.

But because I had no other choice, I put on my big girl panties, dried my tears, and dealt with the problem myself.  Which did not, I repeat, NOT, involve me getting rid of “it” on my own.  I did what any hysterical girl with an absent husband would do….I called my dad.

For inquiring minds….it was a chipmunk.  Seriously?!  Who finds a chipmunk swimming in their toilet?!  Only me….

Proof

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  So I'll keep my words short.  I woke up this morning and found this at the end of my bed.  All in all, there were six footprints, one right and five left.  They ended right at the very edge of my bed, facing the bed, as if whoever they belong to climbed into my bed.  

I am meticulous about my house, if they'd been there before I went to bed, I would have seen them.  Even still, before I mopped them up, my kids and I (who are the only ones who've been in the house in the past few days) all got our feet wet in the soapy water to compare footprints.  These belonged to none of us.

I guess I always sort of knew we weren't alone in the house.  Well....here's my proof!!

Goings-On

It's been a while since I've posted anything about the goings-on in the new house, but not because there haven't been any.  For one thing, I've been INCREDIBLY busy with the release of my first book (that still feels so weird to say, by the way.)  For another thing, I've gotten comfortable in my new home over the past three months, despite its....quirks.  So the things that bothered me in the beginning don't really scare me so much anymore.

But today I was reminded just how creepy my house can be, and I started thinking about all the things that have been happening lately that I've been turning a blind eye to (or trying to, at least), and now I'm thoroughly creeped out.  So, let's recap:

Things That Go Bark In The Night:

My dogs, who weight a total of 25 pounds between the two of them, are pretty quiet by nature.  They bark when someone comes to the door, but that's about it.  We live on a very busy road, a highway in fact, so they're used to 24/7 noise.  That's why I was sure someone was here when, about a month ago, my Sammy Dog started barking ferociously at the back door in the middle of the night.  It woke me up out of a dead sleep, and my adrenaline was already pumping.  It was 3:00 in the morning.  What. The. Hell.  I grabbed my phone and headed to the back door, where I looked out the window and saw....nothing.  There was nobody there.  Still, Sammy kept barking.  What's more, he was standing so that he could see out the window that looks over the porch, and appeared to be looking right at something, or someone.  But there was NOTHING there.  I looked out all the windows, and even did the whole "are you kidding me, how stupid are you?!" thing and opened the door and went outside to investigate.  There was nothing.  Nobody.

After about five minutes, Sammy calmed down.  So I went back to sleep.  Less than a half hour later, it happened a second time.  After the third time, I gave up any hope of actually sleeping, and turned on the TV.  In total, Sammy started barking at the back door five separate times that night, and the same thing has happened on a handful of occasions since.

Sophie, our puppy, likes to sleep in bed with me.  Demands it, actually.  Probably about once a week, usually right around 3am, she gets up, goes to the edge of the bed, stares out the bedroom door, and barks. And barks.  And won't stop unless I get up and turn the lights on.  Once I've confirmed, for my own peace of mind, that there's nothing there, she stops.  But as soon as the lights go off again, she starts barking again.  No rhyme or reason to it whatsoever, it happens so frequently that it doesn't even freak me out anymore.  I think I've accepted that there probably is "something" there, and I've made my peace with it.

Alarming:

One of the very first "Oh my God, what is going on in this house?!" things that happened, which I've talked about before, was the smoke detectors going off for no reason, even after I replaced all the batteries.  That hasn't stopped.  Usually in the middle of the night, but sometimes in the middle of the day, the smoke detectors in the main hall and in my bedroom start going off for no reason.  Not while I'm cooking (which would be understandable), not when there are candles burning, just whenever.  One day, I got home from work and they were both going off.  Who knows how long my poor dogs had been listening to that horrible screeching.

It got so bad, I made my landlord replace one of the smoke detectors, the one that was going off on an almost daily basis.  He replaced it last week, and I haven't had an issue since.  The one in my room, however....well....we'll get to that in a minute.

Batsh!t Crazy:

Last week, I came home from work to what I thought was doggie doo on the living room floor.  Not the best way to start an evening, but not totally unexpected, as I'd just started leaving Sammy out of his crate during the day a couple of days prior.  I went and grabbed a plastic bag, the disinfectant spray, and some paper towel.  It wasn't until I bent down to clean the mess that I realized it wasn't doggie doo at all.  It was A DEAD BAT.  Those of you who know me know that I do NOT deal well with rodents of any kind.  They terrify me.  But I'd never before encountered a bat.  A winged rodent is pretty much the worst thing I can think of, dead or alive.  I screamed, grabbed both of the dogs, and ran outside.  I sat in my car, bawling my eyes out, with the windows rolled up and the doors locked, until my father-in-law showed up and removed the bat from the house.  

I've never in my life had such an intense physical reaction to fear like that.  I was literally paralyzed with fear.  It was awful.  The immediate concern, of course, was rabies.  I took the bat to animal control the next morning as soon as they opened, and had the bat tested.  It was negative.  So that was a HUGE relief.  But then I started thinking.  How was there a dead bat in the middle of my living room?  According to my father-in-law, who got the only up close and personal look, there was no apparent trauma to the bat.  It hadn't been mauled by the dog, (which was my first thought), and the theory that it had flown into the ceiling fan was shaky at best....there was no blood, no injury, no nothing.  It was just dead.  In the middle of my living room.  Weird.

Today:

So here's why I'm telling you all of this: Today, the weirdest, most frightening thing to date happened.  Something that has me rethinking my whole "sure, we have ghosts, but they seem to be nice ghosts" stance.  I was home alone, in the bathroom getting ready for the day, when Sammy, who'd been sleeping out in the main hall, came running towards the bathroom.  Sophie, of course, followed him.  Right as they reached the door, a smoke detector started going off.  Sammy jumped up on my legs, so I picked him up.  He was shaking like a leaf.  Not a fan of physical affection in his old age, the way he buried his face into my hair and held on to me for dear life was quite out of character.  I scooped Sophie up in my other arm and went to investigate.  By the time I reached the part of the house the noise was coming from, it had stopped.  Still, Sammy wouldn't let me put him down.  When I tried, he started clawing and scrambling and dug deep gouges into my chest and neck.  Did I mention he was still shaking?

I headed back to the bathroom, where I brushed my teeth with one hand, held Sammy with the other, and kept reassuring Sophie, who was at my feet, that everything was okay.  After about two minutes, the smoke detector started going off again, causing Sammy to sink his claws into me yet again.  I set him down and went to investigate.  It was the smoke detector in my room.  I climbed up on a chair, took it off the wall, and disconnected the battery.  As soon as I climbed back down, Sammy was in my arms again, still shaking.  He made me carry him around with me for the next hour.  He's just now starting to calm down.

My husband suggested that he was just scared of the noise, which would most certainly be understandable.  Those detectors emit a horrible noise, one that I'm sure hurts the dogs' ears more than it hurts mine.  But here's the thing....they've heard it before.  Many times.  And while they don't like it, it's never been cause for either of them to completely freak out like that.  Not only that, but they came running for shelter BEFORE the smoke detector even started going off.  Today was too much for me to just "brush it off" like I've done in the past.

Today really made me think.  All along, I've had myself convinced that if there is someone or something in our house, it's friendly.  It leaves us alone, we leave it alone.  No sage burning, or ouji boards, or paranormal investigators.  Just peaceful coexistence.  But now I wonder.....what if this "thing" isn't as harmless as I've always imagined it to be?  What if this is just the beginning?