Well wow, part 5 already. Glad you are still hanging in there with me. As many things as I could go on about, I’ll tell you this one little story. After that, and because I didn’t live in this house alone, one of my sisters is ready to tell her story of what it was like in that hell. So let me get rolling here…
You are not Alone…
I stayed home from school one day, I think high school, maybe freshman year? Well, no matter, I stayed home sick and was in my room sleeping away. It’s the best when you can sleep in and the house is quiet, and you’re psyched because you got to stay home, and your dad didn’t even pull you by your toes to get up. Well, that was what I thought I was going to be doing, until my mother woke me up panicked because whatever she saw coming out of my bedroom wasn’t me. At first she said she thought it was my sister, because one of our ghostly friends looked sort of like her because she wore this white fluffy bathrobe. If you saw a flash of white you hoped it was her. My mother got up because the phone was ringing and she thought it was my sister going to answer it. She actually even said to “whatever,’ “I got it” (the phone). But then she realized that particular daughter was at school and I was in the bedroom alone…
We sat in the dining room for hours because we could see the whole house from there. And our TV kept going off and on. We were a mess by the time everyone else got home, and me? I didn’t sleep for a least a month. My mother was truly frightened. All I kept thinking was that ‘whatever’ was in the room with me alone. What was it doing? Was it looking at me? What if I opened my eyes? Until you experience that terror it will be hard to understand or believe, but it’s true. It’s all true…and now my sister’s story in her own words…
We’re in this Together Like Birds of a Feather…
“Main Street…where do I start? So when I was little, probably about the time of double digits, a lot of strange things happened. There was always an overall “creepy” feeling most of the time….especially at night. But there are some things that really stand out from my time there, which was a long time. So…nobody ever really liked the basement. I don’t know what it was, but the feeling that you got down there was not good.
Oddly it wasn’t all the time, but most of the time. A lot of the times we had to come in the basement entrance because that is where our father parked. And later when we got older that is where we parked. From the minute you opened the basement door, you only had a fraction of time to open the door, then slam it shut, and run up those basement stairs and then slam the door shut at the top of the stairs. For me that was pretty much my routine every time. And as a side note, if this was night time I wouldn’t even bother opening the basement door. I would literally walk to the end of the dirt road in the back, around the corner up the road to the Main Street side of the house. That would be the times when I went through our normal porch side entrance. And if the door leading to the basement wasn’t shut, again I would kick the door shut, run up the stairs and pray that the top door to the house was not locked so that you didn’t have to stand next to the attic (Not going to go into that story).
One day I saw a glimpse of a face in my mother’s bureau mirror, a face of a man that I could not describe. I was accused several times by my mother for being home wandering around the house instead of at school. I was either seen wandering around, walking to answer the phone or passing by a doorway…apparently just being a wandering nuisance. This was all because I used to have a white bathrobe and she always saw a white figure. Well all the times I was seen “wandering” I was never home. Ever.
This last story I’ll share is that there were times when I would hear the door knob rattle on its own. When I was younger I used to have these nightmares where somebody was always rattling our front door knob and when I would get to the door it would push open on me and it would basically be blackness trying to come in the other side. I didn’t know what it meant but I used to have that same dream that the doorknob would rattle. And my mother would go to answer it and I would beg her not to open the door, she would open it and then the darkness would push in. That’s the point I always wake up. But it felt real…like there was a darkness or dark force trying to come into our home. I do believe though, it may have already been there.”
MS
We are Family…I got all my Sister’s with me…
We all had nightmares and I believe they all came from what was brewing inside our home. I do want to say though that the doorknob rattling happened daily in our home, and the neighbors homes. Every Saturday morning my sister and I would get up early and watch cartoons. We would sit on the couch next to the door leading to the stairs out to the front door. And every morning nonstop something would run up and down the stairs, jiggle the knob, and run back down. For hours. Hours. We were so used to it we would yell at them to stop. They didn’t. My mother would always unlock the doors and go check it out. Every time she opened the door we thought she wouldn’t be coming back…
To be continued…
Sasysquatchgirl 
I like how you’re getting the different experiences and perspectives of others in addition to your own. The shared creepiness of the neighborhood is spooky and surprising.
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Thank you 🙏 I appreciate that, more witnesses and points of view to come
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