Panties in a Frantic Scare
Over the past few days, my father revealed some pretty scary secrets about the house we moved out of. Being a resident of this house a bit over 7 years, you would have thought any secrets would have been discovered. Since moving in in 1997, I thought it was really strange that the people living there then would want to move out of the almost new house after only 4 years of living in it. I couldn't understand why. My father revealed that he heard through the neighbors that the owners of the house before them only lived there for one year. Their little son had died in the house. My father also revealed that in my room, he had to change the lock on the door because prior to our moving in, my door locked from the outside, not from the inside. What were they trying to "lock in" in my room? I know there are only a handful of people out there who believe in the paranormal. There were things in that house that happened to me that made me feel like I was going completely mad.
It was during my highschool years. I went through this phase of darkness and the only thing in my mind was death. I started to see and hear and feel things in this house, but chose not to come to reality on what was happening to me. I'd be watching tv and would feel and hear "light breathing" on my neck. Of course nothing was there. One morning during my senior year (which I hardly attended), waking up was so hard. I couldn't move, I couldn't open my eyes, I couldn't talk. After a few minutes had past, I finally broke out of it. Thinking I was probably still in a state of sleep, I chose to think nothing of it. I went into the bathroom and undressed for a shower. In the shower, my skin started to sting. What the heck was going on?! I looked in the mirror and I had deep raised scratch marks on my back and neck and on my arm were heavy bruises. The bruises were arranged like finger prints, but with the thumb mark on the downside of my arm by my armpit. It was impossible that I had caused these bruises myself.
Feeling like I was crazy, I chose not to tell my family. A week later, the bruising was still there and I told my sister about it. She panicked and told my parents. Of course, they said it was probably the way I was sleeping. I found out two days ago, my father knew all along, that it was probably the little boy who had done it. He didn't say anything because he didn't want to scare us.
Throughout the years, other strange things happened. But again, we chose not to think about it in that way. The blinds in my room would start swaying left and right and 2 or 3 times, a book fell off of my bookshelf. Most times, when I would be watching tv in my room, I would see a shadow of a person at my doorway. There were also other little things that happened. Like watching tv in the family room alone, I would feel breath on my neck and hear rhythmic breathing. I never really gave these things more thought.
My younger sister, who stayed in the little boy's room, told me that she would sometimes hear someone speaking Mandarin in the lobby downstairs. No one spoke mandarin in the house. She asked my father if he ever saw anything in the house. He replied no, but there were occassions where he would be in the garage fixing things and he would hear people talking upstairs. Our garage was right below the kitchen upstairs and you could hear everything that went on there. Knowing he was home alone, he would open the door from the garage to the house and ask who was up there. He'd go up to find the house empty as he suspected. My sister and I used to help my mother with sewing quilts back then. Wanting to catch the best on tv, we would usually go upstairs later at night. We too, would hear chairs moving upstairs and footsteps. Everyone else would be sleeping. Thinking someone might have just gotten up to get water, we wouldn't think anything else of it.
When my grandmother came to visit one summer, she told my mom that she sees a little boy sometimes and he's carrying an umbrella following her. She's getting quite old, so we all thought she was just seeing things.
Do you believe in ghosts?
I am thankful that this happened to me and not anyone else in my family.
It was during my highschool years. I went through this phase of darkness and the only thing in my mind was death. I started to see and hear and feel things in this house, but chose not to come to reality on what was happening to me. I'd be watching tv and would feel and hear "light breathing" on my neck. Of course nothing was there. One morning during my senior year (which I hardly attended), waking up was so hard. I couldn't move, I couldn't open my eyes, I couldn't talk. After a few minutes had past, I finally broke out of it. Thinking I was probably still in a state of sleep, I chose to think nothing of it. I went into the bathroom and undressed for a shower. In the shower, my skin started to sting. What the heck was going on?! I looked in the mirror and I had deep raised scratch marks on my back and neck and on my arm were heavy bruises. The bruises were arranged like finger prints, but with the thumb mark on the downside of my arm by my armpit. It was impossible that I had caused these bruises myself.
Feeling like I was crazy, I chose not to tell my family. A week later, the bruising was still there and I told my sister about it. She panicked and told my parents. Of course, they said it was probably the way I was sleeping. I found out two days ago, my father knew all along, that it was probably the little boy who had done it. He didn't say anything because he didn't want to scare us.
Throughout the years, other strange things happened. But again, we chose not to think about it in that way. The blinds in my room would start swaying left and right and 2 or 3 times, a book fell off of my bookshelf. Most times, when I would be watching tv in my room, I would see a shadow of a person at my doorway. There were also other little things that happened. Like watching tv in the family room alone, I would feel breath on my neck and hear rhythmic breathing. I never really gave these things more thought.
My younger sister, who stayed in the little boy's room, told me that she would sometimes hear someone speaking Mandarin in the lobby downstairs. No one spoke mandarin in the house. She asked my father if he ever saw anything in the house. He replied no, but there were occassions where he would be in the garage fixing things and he would hear people talking upstairs. Our garage was right below the kitchen upstairs and you could hear everything that went on there. Knowing he was home alone, he would open the door from the garage to the house and ask who was up there. He'd go up to find the house empty as he suspected. My sister and I used to help my mother with sewing quilts back then. Wanting to catch the best on tv, we would usually go upstairs later at night. We too, would hear chairs moving upstairs and footsteps. Everyone else would be sleeping. Thinking someone might have just gotten up to get water, we wouldn't think anything else of it.
When my grandmother came to visit one summer, she told my mom that she sees a little boy sometimes and he's carrying an umbrella following her. She's getting quite old, so we all thought she was just seeing things.
Do you believe in ghosts?
I am thankful that this happened to me and not anyone else in my family.
posted by LemonadeParade at 6:53 p.m.
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