Sasysquatchgirl

Down on Main Street…Part 6…Nightmare on Main Street…

One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…

It’s bad enough when you’re being stalked by ghosts in your waking life to then be terrified asleep too. My sisters and I were having nightmares almost every night since we were little.

Three, four better lock your door…

Bedtime had a ritual while I was little. My mom would watch tv or sleep for a bit In my sister’s and I’s room till we feel asleep. If I woke up during the night and she was gone? Well then you played the grab your pillow and your stuffed protective Sheriff dog and run full speed like your ass was on fire game…don’t stop and look at anything just run.

I feel bad she didn’t get much time to herself back then because I was a chicken shit. But I was a play with my Barbie doll princess. I couldn’t handle this ghostly insanity. I was just to young to deal. But I did the best I could, we all did.

5,6 grab your crucifix…

Okay back to bedtime. It took me awhile to fall asleep. I needed the TV on, the kitchen light and my mother to do it. But when it sleep did come? It was a different kind of fear.

7, 8 better stay up late…

Down on Main Street…Part 7…I Don’t Wanna go Down In the Basement…

There were a few hot spots in our house I especially didn’t like – the hallway by my mother’s bedroom, her actual bedroom, and the front hallway. They were all to be avoided whenever possible. Just thinking about the basement in that house gives me the creepy crawlies. Full on nightmare material I’m telling you.

I recently purchased my own home, do you want to know what it doesn’t have? A basement, that’s what. I’ll take my chances with the tornadoes of the world. The lack of a basement was one of the things I liked best about the house. The realtor was like, “You probably won’t like this, but it’s just a slab.” Well then, pop the champagne, I’m buying a house today!

I don’t want to go down in the basement…

On Main Street there was a huge basement and the only way to avoid being close to it when you came and went was to go through the front hallway. Well I didn’t like that vibe either. For some reason there were always hornets there (which I got stung by many times). So the basement it was.

There’s something down there…

I can’t describe the feeling of walking through, or passing by the door of the basement any better then by saying, pure terror. I’m talking, break out in sweats, wide eyed terror. I have no idea what could have ever happened down there that could have been so bad. Whatever it was, it left an echo or evil stain on it for the rest of eternity. By the way, one second in that basement actually felt like an eternity. My sisters and I were all terrified of it. I never actually saw anything odd down there. I don’t think James Brolin is walled in there but you never know. And even though we didn’t see anything, we felt something menacing down there watching us, and we always thought if we stood still in there long enough whatever it was would grab us.

I don’t want to go…

I can’t talk about the basement and the staircases without talking about something that I always kept secret. I was young and I thought maybe I was losing my mind. I was afraid to tell anyone, even my family and we shared everything.

Some days I would walk to the top of the stairs and then the next thing I knew I was at the bottom by the basement door and outside door. I was always panicked at first because I didn’t remember coming down, and what if I fell? But I would remember a sensation of floating down them and I definitely knew I didn’t walk down them on my own. Some days I would stand up top and wait and see if I would float down, like a game. Later, when I was in my tweens, I never felt that again. And I wondered, did they jump into me trying to find a way to get outside of that house? All I knew was no one said anything about it happening to them so I wasn’t saying a peep.

About a decade ago, give or take, my sister’s and I were having dinner and chatting away. The Main Street house came up, as it often did, and my sister said she had something happen to her there that she never talked about before. Well we were all ears. She started to explain how she felt like some days she floated down the steps and my other sister said “You too?!” And then we realized we couldn’t all be having the same hallucination, we must all have actually experienced this.

Here’s one sister’s account of “floating” down the stairs…

“So, some of the times that I came home…and actually sometimes when leaving the house…I would get the feeling that I floated up the stairs (or down depending which direction I was going). And I wouldn’t know really how I got to the top or the bottom. It was surreal. This was just the crazy leading to crazier.”

Here’s my oldest sister’s experience…

“I didn’t like anything about that entrance. At the bottom, to the left of the stairs, was the entrance to the terrible basement, at the top was the door to our kitchen. Not exactly at the top, though. the door was around a blind corner, and you never knew if you were going to run into whoever was always turning the doorknob. The staircase itself was…mysterious. For a good chunk of my childhood I had many trips down the stairs (it only happened to me when going down the steps, never up) that I had no memory of walking. I’d be at the top, have a brief sensation of falling, and then floating. My brain would be all foggy, like when your under a mild anesthesia. Suddenly, I’d be at the bottom of the stairs, wide awake, hand on the doorknob to exit. And I’d be SCARED, because I knew something wrong was happening, but I had no way to make it stop and no way to PROVE it was happening. So, I said absolutely nothing about it, until I mentioned it at dinner one evening, ten or so years ago…

I don’t want to go down in the basement…

What did the spirits want with us, with our body? Why only float us on the staircase? (I should mention I only floated down). Were they trying to get out of the house, and when we got to the door they realized they couldn’t leave? I can’t believe all these years as adults who understand and believe in hauntings we never told each other. I truly thought I was crazy. I’m amazed I can share this with everyone now. I’m learning it doesn’t matter if you think I’m a silly, crazy girl at the end of this story, because what’s important is getting it out of my system. There just may be a person (or a family) like ours that needs to know they are not crazy. Isn’t that why most of us in this paranormal world are here? We want to understand what we went through, we want to help those living through it now, and we want to show the world we aren’t crazy, we are not alone in this.

I truly hope this helps some young girl or boy. If you’re reading this, you are not alone and you are not crazy. I believe you. If you can have ghost encounter PTSD, then I have it. I’m a night owl who barely sleeps at all, and I need a light and noise to not be afraid to close my eyes. And unless my sisters and I had shared hallucinations, then spirits are real, very real, and hopefully they aren’t in your home right now…

To be continued…

Song lyrics are from, I Don’t Want to go Down to the Basement by The Ramones

Down on Main Street….Part 6…If you Have Ghosts…

If you have ghosts you have everything…

Part six and you’re still here, I thank you for that. I think I mentioned I’m one of three sisters. My older and wiser sister has a story to tell as well. Hers is fresher in her mind because she was older when it all began. I like to keep saying older sister just to annoy her. Okay I’ll stop now, and here it is, my oldest sister’s tale (I tried, but you are older after all)…

You can call it surprise there it is…

“When we moved into the Main Street house I was incredibly excited about the move because our previous apartment was very tiny, and this place was HUGE. Built in the early 20th century, it was a maze of interconnected rooms, lots of doorways and hallways with 2 entrances and a large basement.

In the beginning it was fine for us kids, but my mom immediately began hearing people walking around in the kitchen in the middle of the night when we were all asleep, seeing doorknobs turn with nobody on the other side, waking up to find “people” around her bed talking to each other, but not seeming to notice mom in the bed, and many other bizarre experiences.

As we got older we were better able to recognize that some of the things we were hearing, seeing and feeling were not normal. I have a few memories of my own that haven’t faded with time….

In the night I am real…

My bedroom-Most nights I’d lay in bed with my eyes scrunched closed, trying to sleep, but there was so much NOISE. Items, large and small, sliding around on my dresser, drawers opening and closing, sometimes windows. I never saw anything moving because I never, ever, opened my eyes.

My parents bedroom-For a while we had my great grandmothers rocking chair in their bedroom. It was one of those 18th century padded, apholstered numbers with flowery fabric. I loved that chair, but often when you entered the room it was rocking. My scariest memory was the night I decided to lay on my parents bed for a little rest because I could still see into the dining room where everyone was sitting and chatting. After a couple of minutes I could hear the dresser at the foot of the bed, drawers with jangling handles, opening and slamming, over and over. My eyes were open but I refused to look. Suddenly the window opened and slammed shut, then all was quiet. And I ran.

My sisters’ room-I think my sister may have already told this story, but here it is again! We were sitting on the floor, listening to a Duran Duran record, and our cat was laying on the open window’s sill behind the slatted headboard of the bed. Shockingly, she was pushed through the headboard, ribs first, with her head and tail following. Bent in half. It was awful. I still can’t believe she came through that scared but unhurt.

The back hallway-The worst. Door knob always turning with nobody on the other side, footsteps up and down the stairs at all hours, the basement door at the bottom of the stairs that we were all too scared to walk by if it was open (major creepy-crawlies). And the stairs…that’s a story for Sasy to tell in another installment.

Many of the homes on our street were like our place, and I can’t finish up my story without mentioning that my mom was the neighborhood kickass ghost buster. Strange noises, doorknobs turning, faces in the window? No problem! She would pick up her broom (I’m not even kidding) and march into dark hallways, fling open doors, windows, anything, with her broom raised high. And she did that for all the neighborhood kids whose parents worked and they came home from school to an empty house. Well, almost empty house…”

VBE

The moon to the left is a part of my thoughts, and a part of me is me…

I’m glad my sisters are purging this story from their mind and soul as well as myself. It wasn’t fair to grow up, make friends, go through puberty, first loves, etc with this always humming around us making us doubt our sanity. I’m glad we were close and always had each other. But at least you’re learning now what makes me…me and how and why I’m so weird. Seeing is believing they say. Well like the expression goes, I’ve seen some things. And the spirits in my material world were just a gateway to all other high strangeness. You can tell me anything, you won’t shock me and I will believe you, because I know…I know, how important it is for someone to be that ear. Someone you can be weird with and they’ll support you no matter what, I hope you all find that one person…

To be continued…

Down on Main Street…Part 5…Sisters are Doing it for Themselves…

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.”

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…

Down on Main Street Part 4

What are the people in the neighborhood…

I was a baby when we moved into the neighborhood so I can’t tell you anything about moving day. I do know the house started out as a brown shingled one though. I only knew three neighbors when I was very young. Well, three and the local priest. See, we lived next to a church. St. Mary’s church. I remember it being very ominous to me when I was young. I had many nightmares about that church. My sisters did too. My nightmares were either end of the world types with the church’s bell tower coming down on us, or about aliens invading. In the dream I’d look out the window and see their ship above the church. Nightmares, I had them almost every night. I didn’t know what was worse. Sleeping or being the only one awake at night in the house. The priest was very kind and patient with me. I would ask all kinds of questions about life and death and he would do the best he could answering them while I ate all his cookies.

I also lived next to a professional puppeteer who taught us how to make paper mache puppet heads. I mention this because as if it wasn’t bad enough being scared of my home, being scared outside by them was too much. Every Halloween the puppeteer donned a witch’s costume, stood on stilts, and scared the neighbors. I knew it was her. I did. But all the same she still scared me off.

The only light in this deal for me was when I hit my tweens. Someone new bought the house across the street. That light would be the boy next door. My best friend still to this day. We survived puberty as friends, if you can do that together as a boy/girl friend mix, you can do anything.

I loved escaping to his house, no worries and fears, or so I thought, but as it turned out the whole neighborhood had gone to the ghosts. But I’m going to let him tell this tale, because it made him a true believer, from just believing me to knowing it’s true isn’t easy. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but lord I needed one friend who did…

Jay’s house as of a week ago. Abandoned because no one stays living there either.

As I said, I’ll let Jay tell it in his own words:

Oh You’re My Best Friend...

“I remember it being a nice summer night. We were in my pool as usual and no one else was home. While splashing around in the pool we happened to look up into the second floor window and saw a women in the window.

It was not a woman we recognized. She scared us so bad we jumped out of the pool running across the street to her house soaking wet looking for safety. After talking to my mother she mentioned she had seen some strange things in the house as well but was keeping it to herself.”

J.E.R

I asked him what the one thing about my house that scared him the most was, here was his thoughts…

“I had a best friend who lived across the street in an old house like mine. To get to her door I had to pass the stairway to the basement every time. All the time I had this eerie feeling anytime I passed. Sometimes the feelings were stronger, I remember often it was stronger at night. You just felt like something was waiting to grab you on your way passed the entrance”

J.E.R

What little research we could find on his home did say that someone had fallen down the stairs and died from a broken neck.

I Aint Scared Of no ghost…

There were other neighbors as well that reported strange activity in their home. The house to our left had come up for rent and my father’s best friend at the time was looking to rent it. Although my dad was not a believer, he let his friend know what everyone else believed. His friend didn’t believe in them either. He and his son lasted one month. They heard doors, windows and drawers opening and closing all night, voices, and odd sounds. My father’s friend made sure he let my dad know on his way out that it was true. It was all true.

Everyone on the street seemed to have one common scare. They would hear someone or something running up and down the stairs at all hours and jiggling the old doorknobs trying to get into the house. And no one was ever there. Ever. And how did I know this was happening to all of them?

Who you gonna call….

My mom was the only stay at home mom on the block at that time so they would call her scared out of their wits that someone was trying to break in. I remember she used to grab the broom and head on down the road. The broom was just a prop really, she knew who (or what) was in their house and they weren’t trying to break in because they already were in and they weren’t going anywhere. But these particular friends were not believers yet. They would be, eventually…

To be continued…

My BFF, no, my brother, son to my parents, uncle and godfather to niece and nephew and my best thing…love you Jay, thanks for doing this when I know you hate writing lol.

Down on Main Street…Part 3

It’s nothing new to most that animals are known to be able to sense and see what us mere humans can not . Of course some of their senses are stronger than ours. Their ability to smell and hear from a distance might give them an edge over us predators. Of course we have no concrete proof that these senses can see dead people, but enough unusual experience reports have us believing they can. And I’m telling you if you asked my beautiful family cat, affectionately named Puss, she would tell you they sure as shit do. Here’s the story of a spoiled cat surviving with dastardly ghosts hanging around.

Look what the cat got dragged into….

Puss was one of the most beautiful, spoiled, evil, awesome Maine Coon kitties you’d ever meet. She did not want to be petted and picked up. She just wanted to tear up every awesome rock poster you ever had on your wall and move on. Specifically my life size Vince Neil poster. My sister and I smuggled her into the house when her friend’s cat had a litter. We got briefly yelled at. My dad yelling, “Bring that cat back where it came from!…yada yada,” then once we weren’t looking he was all, “Here kitty, kitty,” and we knew it was a done deal. It was what we were banking on. But some days I wished we never had brought her there. It wasn’t easy in that house. And I knew that she knew we weren’t alone. Don’t ask me how I knew, it’s just a feeling and from watching her actions. Running out of rooms like her ass was on fire. Looking and tilting her head and staring at things that weren’t there. If you were there you would know she knew.

I think the first time or times maybe you could say, because this happened on more than one occasion, that we knew she wasn’t safe at home alone was when we had a late night out as a family. Which happened often. But on this particular night we all went to see a show and got back from Boston pretty late. As soon as we came in the door we looked for her everywhere, calling her and freaking out. I don’t know what made us check our buffet in our dining room that first time but we did and the bottom doors were magnetic and always stuck. I mean, I would have to brace a foot and pull hard to open it, but we did and there she was, jumping out and running away. Believe me when I tell you, she couldn’t possibly paw that open then lock herself in afterwards. I could just barely do it. But every time we went out there she was locked in there or a closet. My mother was refusing to leave her home alone after awhile.

This might sound horrible to hear and it was not pretty to see either but she went flying through the air a few times.

One night my sister and I were listening to music in her bedroom, the cat was lying in the window. Now her bed was up against that window. You could see her through the slots on the bedpost. She would jump on top of the bed post then jump down into the window. But this time she was literally shoved sideways through the slots. She would not be able to do what we saw. We thought she had to be injured but she took off running. Immediately afterwards my bedroom phone started ringing. And then it stopped and rang again and so on for a couple of minutes. So after I composed myself from what I just witnessed, I went to answer it. My girlfriend was yelling, “Who is the guy the keeps answering your phone, saying hello and then hanging up on me?” Now it took a minute to hit me but when it did, I unplugged and threw that phone across the room. Not seconds later my other sister who was passed out watching tv on the living room floor came in the room asking what the hell we were doing and why did we keep walking back and forth right next to her? We didn’t. But those are the kinds of things that kept happening to her and us.

She got locked in closets, cabinets, rooms, etc. all the time so I know she knew. It must have been hard for her to resign herself to that fate, but she did. So, for 19 years she stayed with us. And we spoiled her rotten. My dad always said if he asked my mother to choose between him and that cat he was a goner. But I’m really sorry Puss, we probably never would have brought you home If we understood then what we know to be true now…

Animals can sense things. You know it’s true. Watch and listen to the signals they are giving you. If they are telling you to run, then run damnit.

This post was actually one of my favorite to write. Although the content is a little stressful, it was nice to think about and look at pictures of my first baby again. Miss you Puss…meow

And Now a Word From Bigfoot About the Fourth of July

Well it’s that time of year again. One of the few days you fools leave me alone in the woods to myself, while you go try to get blown up by fireworks 💥.

I myself am not a fan of explosions and fire. Hair catches fire to easily ya know. That is why you never see any evidence of fire from us. No sir..but no matter how many times your houses, lawns, decks and fingers catch fire you keep on keeping on.

Someone has even set the forest on fire, my forest here…on freakin fire…that cannot happen again. Some of my forest friends did not make out as lucky as I.

You don’t know this, but while you’re taking a break from following me, I get a chance to observe you. I’ve even crept up to the edge of your backyards. And let me tell you something. You have not seen stupid if you haven’t observed a backyard Fourth of July party. Allow me share some of my field notes with you..

1. First off, It’s to Hot to have an outdoor party, your guests are roasting and you don’t have a pool. New rule, if you don’t have a pool, you are not allowed to have a summer party. Period.

2. Omg! Tell that awful band to stop croaking already. Dear hairy god, could they be anymore Wedding Singer bad.

3.There actually can be to much red, white and blue. Blinking glasses, hats and even shirts. People, just no.

4. Now let’s talk about cuisine. I’m sorry, how long exactly has that potato salad been out. And are those flys on top of it. Those hot dogs are more shriveled than, well all right I’ll spare you the end of that sentence. But it has a lot to do with cold water. Which no one here has to worry about , because you don’t have a pool!!!!

5. And now your host..blinking flag moron. Your friends husband, whom you can’t deal with but you feel obligated. He has no shirt on. Hairier chest than me with blinking shorts that say “is that a light in my shorts, or does he just automatically light up whenever I see you?” He is the biggest drunk there. You feel violated when he just stands next to you, and you’re planning out how to escape and take his children with you.

6. The other guests. Really, hahaha if those were my friends I’d take off and live in the woods somewhere. Oh wait, I already do. Guess mine suck too.

7. Let’s get ready to rumble..and now the main event. The one not staring Ryan O’Neil and Barbara Streisand. The fireworks 🎇 💥🔥🙌. The ones you are about to light up, next to all the other fireworks. Fool. But I’m prepared to run, always. That’s what I do. You have no clue what you’re doing. You’re letting blinking dick light them, while children are around and you’re only 20 feet from your house! And he’s throwing the used ones in the fire pit! The one 10 feet from the fireworks. Omg, I can’t watch anymore it’s to much.

The house, lawn and hairy chest went up in flames. The end of field 📝 notes.

I’d like to say if I shared this with you, you would learn a lesson and be safer and smarter next year. But this is the second time blinking dick had burned his hair off…

All pics found on google