When I was thirteen years old, my family and I moved into a really old piece of property that had been passed on in a family for literally ever. The house was old, but it didn’t look like it. It was absolutely stunning inside and out. The land was an old forest with a lot of history. The Hills had built the house and it started off as just a little shack far back in the forest. To this day you can see the remains of this shack from when a fire inside caught. So then they built the bigger house later on.
The house and property had been passed on to two sons – one father giving it to his son and then the other father giving it to his son. This last son who received it decided to sell the house to us. Before he left, he said, “well my ancestors are definitely rolling over in the graves today” and to this day, I think he was right.
From the second my family and I moved into that house, we knew we weren’t the only ones there. So here are the stories of that my family and I experienced.
The day we moved in was hectic. It consisted of a lot of unpacking just so we could eat that day. So I brought a box downstairs to the basement pantry. It was the coldest room in the entire house, hence why it was a pantry, and it was also the one that feared me the most. To this day I will never go back into that room. I opened the door and went inside. I set the box down and opened it up when I heard the click of the door behind me. I didn’t think anything of it because the door was a heavy one. Also, I thought because it was a pantry that maybe the door was meant to stay closed. So I continued putting jars and stuff on the shelves in the pantry when I saw a shadow move in the corner. I paused, and stared there. I felt the air get colder. I had goosebumps and I was terrified. “There’s nothing there, you are just being silly” I told myself, and went back to what I was doing.
Seconds later I heard an object fall to the ground. I looked back in the corner and there was a jar broken on the floor. My heart racing, I said “Is someone there?” No answer. Well, no verbal one. I suddenly got this instinct that I should get out, that I needed to, but I couldn’t. It is hard to explain, but I was so transfixed on whoever was there, so curious, I stayed, against my better judgment. I stood there for probably about five minutes and stared at that corner where the jar lay. Nothing happened. Confused, I turned back to the shelve and then I got this feeling. I felt hatred and pain, like someone was angry with me for being there. I looked back at the corner and I saw the shadow again, but this time it didn’t leave. I heard what sounded like mocking laughter, a woman’s laughter. I panicked and headed towards the door to leave when I heard the light bulb above my head smash.
Now in complete darkness, I screamed. I tried opening the door, pushing and turning the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. I could feel the woman pacing behind me. She was still laughing at me, but she was saying angry words under her breath that I couldn’t understand. I continued to scream and push at the door, when finally my dad pulled open the door letting me out. I ran out of there, not looking back. And I never went back there again.
Since then, we have had multiple dogs and cats, none of them going near that door. My cats would hiss and my dogs would growl at that door. I don’t know who that woman was, but she struck fear into my heart and has left an everlasting memory.
The next story is one my mother told me. One morning she got up as normal. It was bright and sunny, you could already feel the heat in the air, which she thought was odd because we had air conditioning installed shortly after we moved in. She went to the kitchen to start the coffee when she noticed the patio door was open. She went to it to close it when she saw two chairs pulled out as if someone had been sitting there. There was even a small table with two cups there. At first she thought it was a joke that someone was playing on her but when she went to both mine and my brothers rooms, she saw to her surprise that we were both still asleep. For the next few mornings, the same thing happened. We even put the chairs away in the small garage one night, and they still ended up out there. That’s when my mother had enough and randomly said, “Okay Mr. and Mrs. Hill, that’s enough!” and it never happened again.
Eventually we found out from the Mr. Hill that sold us the house he had parents who had recently passed away and their ashes were spread across the property. Maybe that explains some of these incidents.
A lot of other things have happened to us in that house. Such as small things, like pictures being moved and radio stations being changed. You could also hear foot steps up and down the stairs and if you sat downstairs in the rec room, you could hear foot steps going around the kitchen and the bedrooms. You would also see beds sink down like someone was sitting on them. But nothing as hostile as that woman in the pantry.