Something about that house just gave her the creeps. She always credited it to the bad memories of growing up in the midst of that secret whiskey disease kept hidden, but nothing more really.
Apparently there were stories, though she had never known about them until only a few years ago, when they were all sitting around late one night telling ghost stories. Her sister talked of flickering lights, and hearing noises, she described as the muted sound of a party going on, and sometimes she said she would smell food cooking. Her mother talked of feeling a presence, of flickering lights, and smelling food, and said that one time, she felt the weight of something on her chest, but perceived it as being friendly and compared it to receiving a hug from someone. Creepy. She was the oldest of the three kids and the first out of the house, but never experienced anything like that when she was growing up there.
Now that Mama and Daddy had both passed away, and her siblings living far away, she had been left to tend to the house. She'd had her own house for years, so this one had been sort of falling in on itself the way houses do when they sit unoccupied for long periods of time. Her sister had finally given in and agreed to put it on the market. It was an older home and needed a little work, but it was in a great area and had wonderful potential; it just wasn't moving. She had hired a yard service and would periodically stop by to make a quick run though, just to check on things and make sure no vagrants had taken up homestead or burglars had stolen the few things left inside.
For some reason though, she was never comfortable inside the house by herself for very long and always rushed through, flipping on the lights and hurriedly checking each room. There was no reason for this really, it was just more a feeling she had. A feeling like she was always being watched.
Not long after she'd remarried, she and her new husband stopped by one weekend to check on the house. It was an extremely hot and humid day, but when she walked through the door and headed to the hallway, a rush of cold air blew across her face. She thought the real estate agent may have left the air on, but when she checked the thermostat, the unit was off. Not thinking much about it, she passed back through the living room, into the kitchen, and to the den, checking all the doors. Odd, the den felt unusually cold too.
She met back up with her husband at the front of the house and as they began to head out, suddenly the crystal chandelier in the dining room lit up all on its own. She looked at her husband, and he looked at her, as the chandelier began to get brighter and brighter, and then dimmer and dimmer, and then brighter and brighter again. Chills ran the length of her spine and up to her ears and she shivered, feeling the beat of her heart rise up into her temples. She chuckled nervously to herself and shrugged it off as some malfunction with the electrical in the dimmer switch.
Cautiously inching toward the wall switch, her heart reverberating in her ears, she quickly turned the dimmer all the way down and clicked it off, just for good measure. Hurriedly she turned toward her husband and the saving doorway leading to the outside, then abruptly stopped as a sliver of light reflected against the wall. With a crawling turn, she glanced over her shoulder, watching the chandelier once again light up and began to brighten and dim, brighten and dim. She looked at her husband, and he looked at her.
"Okay … I'm outta here." she shouted, pushing her husband quickly to the door, engaging the bottom lockset and nervously fingering the deadbolt, shakily trying to join the key to the keyhole.
As they stepped out the door and she slammed it shut, suddenly, out of nowhere, there were three loud, banging noises … as if someone from inside the house were pounding on the wall. A chill jolted up her back as the keys dropped to the porch. She stooped to snatch them up and nearly plowing over her husband, bolted down the porch and the driveway to the car. She jerked open the car door, in such a rush that she cracked her kneecap against the corner of the dashboard, and shakily inserted the key in the ignition and cranked the car. She looked at her husband and he looked at her. Her heart was pounding so hard she swore he must've heard it himself.
"D-did you hear that …" she asked, her voice quivering, "… that... that pounding?"
"Yeah," he barely whispered. "Yeah … I heard it too." There wasn't a drop of color left to his face.
She never went in that house again after that, and though she often drove by to check on it, she only drove by.
You are free to link to this story if you like, however, the text itself is my original work and protected by copyright. Do Not Copy, Re-post Elsewhere, or Re-Distribute in any manner, without prior written consent.
A hidden talent we knew nothing of there Miss Mary? Riveting...I like this kind of stuff, and love to watch Ghost Hunters. We did have a few 2 here in our place..it isn't so cool when it is your place they are visiting in. I brought one home with me from work, and the other was here when we moved in. The 2nd one was the creepy one. Mary Ann Witkowsky of the Ghost Whispere, she lives nearby and sent them to the light.ReplyDelete
They are gone, and I am happy. It is an uneasy feeling and I relate to the lady in your story, tingly spine and all. Food cooking, smells of perfume etc....perfect story thank you for sharing...
Glad you enjoyed that Faith, but as far as your story... CREEPY!! :) You should write that up for your blog. That is so cool that Ms. Witkowsky lives near you. Thank goodness huh?ReplyDelete
Next installment when? Very nice read Mary Thanks!ReplyDelete