A Haunted House Story

Ok, I know it's not exactly an original title, but it does what it says on the tin!

When I was eight years old, my family moved from the South Coast of England, to a house in the heart of the industrial Midlands.

It was a beautiful village, and quite a nice house, although it was very cold. In the winter, you would wake up with your face frozen to your pillow, and the net curtains would be frozen to the window.

At first, everything seemed Ok. Looking back it seems like there was a slow build up of events, and I am not sure that everything can be explained by a Haunted House theory.

Things started to break down in the house. The washing machine flooded the kitchen, the fridge broke, the cooker electrics went haywire and untold number of little annoyances like these.

My brother who had been working away for some time, was returning home, and I volunteered to air his bed out for him. This meant sleeping in his room, and I was excited because my brother hated anyone going in his room. I went to bed early that night, and read as I always do. A little while after turning the light off, I heard what sounded like footsteps in the room with me. As I listened they seemed to get louder. This frightened me from the word go, as there was carpet on the floor, and where the sound was coming from, a thick sheepskin rug lay. I turned on the bedside light and the noise stopped. I looked out the bedroom window in case it was raining and I was hearing the drip of the rain on the ledge. It wasn't raining.

Every time I turned the light off, the noise started again. When I turned the light on, it stopped. This went on until the early hours and just stopped of it's own accord.

I never told any one in my family about this at the time, as I didn't think they would believe me.

Not long after, some friends came round to my house, and the only person other than me at home was my brother, who was in the kitchen.

I had told my friends about the footsteps, and they suggested something along the lines of a seance.

I drew the curtains, and placed a glass in the centre of a coffee table, and started asking if anyone was there - the usual questions associated with seances. We didn't have to wait long before we had a response. We heard footsteps almost running down the stairs, and then the lounge door flew open with a bang. My friends and I ran to the kitchen where my brother was but we acted cool, and said we were just wondering what he was up to. However, we would not go back to the lounge on our own for the rest of the day.

After that, things would happen every day. Things would go missing, only to show up in oddest places. My brother always left change around his bedroom, and one day he couldn't find a penny. He found it a couple of days later under the sheepskin rug in his room.

I always felt as though someone was around me, and would see shadows and hear noises constantly. It was also a lot to do with feeling things, like temperature changes. It was a cold house to start with, but then you would get a cold spot in a previously warm patch. It was also just feeling of something not wanting you there.

It's hard to describe, and seeing it in writing it doesn't seem a lot.

Just to put the final horror story finish to it, the day we were leaving, a neighbor told us that a previous occupant had hung herself in the stairwell.

I know for a fact that the previous occupant to us had had very bad luck financially and health wise. We had bad luck, not from the minute we walked in, but it started not long after.

I also know the occupant after us had bad luck professionally and personally, and I would like to know about any further occupants.

I took my son to see this house about five years ago. I can't believe it seemed so innocuous. I would love to set foot in it again, just to see if it still affected me as it did all those years ago.

Contributed by Dawn Burnett and Copyright © 2007 all rights reserved. No part of this story may be used without permission.

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