mercy_angel_09 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mercy_angel_09) wrote2011-10-21 11:16 am
mercy_angel_09) wrote2011-10-21 11:16 am
Entry tags:
Writer's Block: Paranormal activity
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Oh God how I wish I were making this up.
My parents live in a house that was built in the 1950's. A reverse "R" floor plan, to be exact. It's had some work done over the years - the sun room/porch was extended the length of the house and walls were knocked down to create a great room for the living room and dining room. A bay window was added to the living room instead of the classic large picture windows that dominate the neighborhood. When I was a freshman in high school, we took the kitchen down to the studs and completely re-did it.
You wouldn't think that a house that's barely fifty years old would be haunted, but it is.
I think the clearest moment I can recall was when I was in high school. I'm pretty sure it was my junior year. I had gotten my cousin's old computer - they had just gotten a brand new machine and I needed one for my personal use and for school work - and it had been set up in my bedroom. I really couldn't do much more than word processing and play Final Fantasy VIII on it - hooking it up to the internet was simply out of the question (this was back in 2001, roughly, so before wi-fi dominated).
One night my siblings and I had been joking around with each other prior to going to bed, and one of the most common things we joked about, all being basement dwellers, was the ghost that lived in the house. It was something that we had always said from the moment we moved in - but had never really taken seriously.
My sister and I seemed to have the most experiences with him. It wasn't uncommon to wake in the middle of the night to see someone standing next to the bed. I have a blown glass dolphin figurine that was also prone to moving on its own. (It hasn't been an issue since I moved out nearly four years ago.)
But the one experience I will never forget is the sound of someone running their hands over the keyboard of my "new" computer.
It was late, probably between eleven and midnight, and after being up and talking with my siblings, I had finally settled into bed. Just as I was drifting off I heard the rather distinct clacking of someone running their hands over the keyboard. I knew it couldn't be my siblings - they had all retired to their rooms before me. Added to that was the knowledge that my bedroom door wasn't exactly quiet. In fact it was rather prone to sticking and consequently made quite a racket when opening. It took a practiced touch to get it to open without making a ton of noise, something my siblings, to this day, haven't quite mastered. Even my kid sister who is now living in that room.
I heard the sound about three times before it stopped. At first I thought I was dreaming it, but then it started up again - louder and faster. I was tired, a little cranky, and surprisingly not at all scared. So I mumbled the only logical thing my half-asleep brain could come up with, "Please stop, I'm trying to sleep."
...It stopped. It never happened again.
However I knew that the ghost hadn't left. He (and we're certain it was a he - the apparitions my sister and I had seen were always masculine in build) simply made his presence known in other ways. Like moving the blown glass dolphin. (I'd leave in the morning and it'd be angled, when I'd come home it'd be facing straight out to the room on my shelf. I tried to debunk it in every possible way.
It shifted due to vibrations through the wall caused by people walking up stairs?
People running didn't cause a damn thing to budge.
Air movement from me opening and closing my door forcefully?
Nothing moved but the dresses on my dolls.
My sister banging on the shared wall between our rooms?
Aside from some slight rattling, nothing shifted. NOTHING.
I wish I were making all of that up. I really do. But those are the facts people. Trust me, I tried to debunk how the dolphin moved. After the twentieth or so time of moving the dolphin and finally snapping at the air, "Will you stop touching my stuff?!" it never moved again. Let it be known that the ghost at my parents' house is polite, and when you tell him to stop, he does. He just finds new ways of making his presence known.
Oh God how I wish I were making this up.
My parents live in a house that was built in the 1950's. A reverse "R" floor plan, to be exact. It's had some work done over the years - the sun room/porch was extended the length of the house and walls were knocked down to create a great room for the living room and dining room. A bay window was added to the living room instead of the classic large picture windows that dominate the neighborhood. When I was a freshman in high school, we took the kitchen down to the studs and completely re-did it.
You wouldn't think that a house that's barely fifty years old would be haunted, but it is.
I think the clearest moment I can recall was when I was in high school. I'm pretty sure it was my junior year. I had gotten my cousin's old computer - they had just gotten a brand new machine and I needed one for my personal use and for school work - and it had been set up in my bedroom. I really couldn't do much more than word processing and play Final Fantasy VIII on it - hooking it up to the internet was simply out of the question (this was back in 2001, roughly, so before wi-fi dominated).
One night my siblings and I had been joking around with each other prior to going to bed, and one of the most common things we joked about, all being basement dwellers, was the ghost that lived in the house. It was something that we had always said from the moment we moved in - but had never really taken seriously.
My sister and I seemed to have the most experiences with him. It wasn't uncommon to wake in the middle of the night to see someone standing next to the bed. I have a blown glass dolphin figurine that was also prone to moving on its own. (It hasn't been an issue since I moved out nearly four years ago.)
But the one experience I will never forget is the sound of someone running their hands over the keyboard of my "new" computer.
It was late, probably between eleven and midnight, and after being up and talking with my siblings, I had finally settled into bed. Just as I was drifting off I heard the rather distinct clacking of someone running their hands over the keyboard. I knew it couldn't be my siblings - they had all retired to their rooms before me. Added to that was the knowledge that my bedroom door wasn't exactly quiet. In fact it was rather prone to sticking and consequently made quite a racket when opening. It took a practiced touch to get it to open without making a ton of noise, something my siblings, to this day, haven't quite mastered. Even my kid sister who is now living in that room.
I heard the sound about three times before it stopped. At first I thought I was dreaming it, but then it started up again - louder and faster. I was tired, a little cranky, and surprisingly not at all scared. So I mumbled the only logical thing my half-asleep brain could come up with, "Please stop, I'm trying to sleep."
...It stopped. It never happened again.
However I knew that the ghost hadn't left. He (and we're certain it was a he - the apparitions my sister and I had seen were always masculine in build) simply made his presence known in other ways. Like moving the blown glass dolphin. (I'd leave in the morning and it'd be angled, when I'd come home it'd be facing straight out to the room on my shelf. I tried to debunk it in every possible way.
It shifted due to vibrations through the wall caused by people walking up stairs?
People running didn't cause a damn thing to budge.
Air movement from me opening and closing my door forcefully?
Nothing moved but the dresses on my dolls.
My sister banging on the shared wall between our rooms?
Aside from some slight rattling, nothing shifted. NOTHING.
I wish I were making all of that up. I really do. But those are the facts people. Trust me, I tried to debunk how the dolphin moved. After the twentieth or so time of moving the dolphin and finally snapping at the air, "Will you stop touching my stuff?!" it never moved again. Let it be known that the ghost at my parents' house is polite, and when you tell him to stop, he does. He just finds new ways of making his presence known.
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That's a pretty cool story. I can imagine how irritating that must have been to deal with at a young age. I myself have never been on the receiving end of an apparition, but I can feel presence's energy sometimes. Like the feeling of an arm around my shoulder or just that feeling that someone you can't see is near you.
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I was sixteen or seventeen when this happened (so it's been ten years at least), and I would have to agree that it's more irritating than scary. Also, sometimes confusing because most of the time I wouldn't see an apparition unless I was half-asleep so a lot of the time I just passed it off as a dream. (That is until my sister and I were talking and realized that we had seen the same person standing by our beds. Right about then we went, "Well...huh.")
I do recall that I spent a lot of my childhood in that house (we moved into it when I was seven) being aware that I was never quite alone. This was really hammered home when I was house sitting for my parents and I was sleeping with the dog in my room the basement. In the middle of the night she jumped up, looked at the wall, and started barking. And not the, "I'm alerting you to the presence of squirrels in the front yard," bark, but the, "Stay away from my human or I will tear you bit from bit," bark. Which is impressive seeing as she's a seven pound Pomeranian who is more fluff than dog.
Something was in my room that night, and the dog knew it. And judging by the way my arm hair was standing on end, I knew it, too.
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I really was never scared of our ghost. That isn't to say that sometimes I was a little ill at ease, but for the most part I never felt that I was in any danger.
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