When I was six years old I moved from my house in the city, to a small trailer, next to my dad's friend's house in a small town, with only one store, and a school which held 72 kids grade pre-k through 5th.
The house stands, now being about 300 years old. I only know of one death in this house, but there is more than one spirit here I am sure. I spent most of my time in this house even before I moved in, with my friends Tiffany and Christine.
Every time I was there I could see people watching me and hear noises in rooms I knew no one was in, but no one else believed me. On occasion Tif, would say "Did you hear that? It was probably just the wind though."
My parents, and four older siblings all thought I was crazy, but then about a year later, something terrible happened that would give them reasons to believe me.
The house owner, had died of a brain tumor in my living room by the bathroom door, I remember I had spent that night in the house with his daughter Tiffany. I was in the kitchen sitting at the counter eating cheerios. My sister was in the next room playing video games. You could see down a hall into the living room from both rooms.
He had died. The man I had known since I was a baby was gone. From this moment, as you would guess, the sightings, and noises got worse. Of course, my dad decided to move into the house, knowing I was already terrified of it.
When I moved here, I always felt like I was being watched (and I still do). I would wake up crying and screaming every night. My parents would always tell me it was my imagination and to go back to bed, but I know it wasn't. I would see people sitting at the kitchen table, while I was making a snack. The second I would turn around they would disappear.
In the closet in my room, there were two doors to get into it, one door, you could reach from the hallway, and one entrance in my actual room. I could see people standing in there looking at me all night, with looks that seemed to pierce through me. They wouldn't go away - at all. I would occasionally see the outline of a person run by the bureau, then run off to my closet. Of course, once again, being afraid of the closet, things only got worse.
The entrance from the room to get into the closet doesn't have a door, its just a large section of the wall cut out, about the length of a twin size bed, hmm twin size bed, well my mother thought it would be a genius idea to move the bed into the closet considering I could still see around my room and it was basically a part of my room. The fears got so bad, I would run out into the hallway, and sleep out there and my parents would wake up to me outside their door.
Before I had that room to myself, I shared it with my sister. We had bunk beds, and took turns being on top bunk. One of the nights I was on the top bunk I was awakened to something or someone shaking my shoulder as if trying to wake me up. I woke up and looked around. I saw, standing at the bunk bed ladder, my great grandmother who had died when I was about 4 or 5 years old. She had never gotten to say goodbye to me, and plus at the time, I was basically too young to even realize she was gone. She looked down at me and smiled and she tilted her head to the side. She mouthed the words "Hi" and "Goodbye." I started crying, and hid under my blankets saying "fall back asleep, fall back asleep" over and over. The next day I told my parents about this experience. I described what she was wearing. It was exactly what she had been buried in.
This only made me worse. I was afraid to be in the room for more than 5 seconds or else I would start screaming and crying. I knew people were there and I still do but everyone thought It was my imagination.
The spirits started to realize I didn't like them here. They were still here and I knew it but they tried to make themselves less noticeable. But then one night, they all came back, bringing a few new friends or at least ones I hadn't met yet.
The first new friend was a lady dressed all in black who stood outside my uncle's door with a black umbrella. She looked as though she was going to a funeral.
The second one, was just an apparition that it was impossible to make out, sometimes black and shadowy, but other times whiter than snow.
My siblings started believing me a little bit, when my sister was home alone with her boyfriend and the dogs were both sitting on the couch next to them. They heard footsteps going back and forth in he upstairs hallway, but no one else was home. My eldest brother also heard these.
My eldest sister was convinced there was a ghost of a boy between late teens, or early twenties in her closet. He would stand right outside her closet door by the shelf, or just stay in the closet, he would not go any where in the room.
The most recent one someone has seen other than me was a new one. My dad has a bunch of my stuff on a shelf in this room on the top shelf including a broken acoustic guitar, a chucky doll I bought at Spencer's gifts, and other random things. (This is the room I am in right now.) At about two in the morning, my father was awakened. He saw a girl standing on a chair, playing with things on the top shelf. The closet door was opening and closing, and swinging back and forth. He thought it was me just getting bored and wanting to use some of my stuff, but then he realized it was a little girl in an old fashioned night gown, with different hair and eyes then me. She eventually just disappeared.
There are MANY MANY MANY more stories I could get into, but I think I may have already written more than enough. I have lived in the same house since I was six years old, and to this day, I still believe the ghosts are here. Every now and again, I still witness a little ghost phenomenon.
Contributed by Autumn and Copyright © 2007 True Ghost Tales all rights reserved. No part of this story may be used without permission.
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