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…
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