When I was a few months old my family moved from Texas into a beautiful home in Louisiana. It was out in the country, and there were few houses that were close to us. At first we were just renting it, but the man that owned it later sold it to us because the house went into bankruptcy.
As far as I'm concerned there was a baby and a mother. At night my dad used to watch TV late. Sometimes he would hear me cry (or so he thought), so he would go check on me. It seemed to come from the other side of the house, but as soon as he would reach the hall it would stop. Figuring I just stopped crying, he would come make sure I was okay, but when he looked closely there were no signs that I had been crying. It happened more than once, and I was never the one crying. He would try to sneak to my room, but there were always the same results. Sometimes I would even be sleeping in my mom's room, or not even home. It still always seemed to come from that side of the house, and it was a baby crying. A young girl (my room and the hall was a whole different house that was moved to that location many years ago. A doctor bought the house and added on to it).
When I was maybe three or four my dad started working overseas, so there was only my mom, me, my brother, and my sister (both teenagers).
My sister's boyfriend would sometimes stay at our house. My mom moved me to the other side of the house in her room because I was terrified to sleep in my room. I always felt that something was watching me and I was also scared of the staircase -which I could clearly see from my door. My mom would offer William to sleep in my room, but he refused. No matter what, he would sleep on the couch.
I loved to draw when I was little, and I still do, so we would put all of my drawings at the bottom of my closet. One day he finally told my mom that the reason he wouldn't sleep in my room was because one night he woke up and heard papers being moved. He got up and went into my room and saw papers floating in the air and being tossed to the side as if they were being looked through. Not only that, I had numerous wind up toys and a laughing phone that would wind up in the night. The little girl loved to play with my toys!
One night I had a dream that the little girl was my best friend, but no matter what, we would always play by the staircase and in my room. She refused to go anywhere else.
After a while my brother and my sister moved out, so there was only me (a young girl), my mom, the ghost mom, and the ghost daughter (which also seemed to be a young girl).
I know there is a mom because, one day, my mom was going upstairs to clean my brother's room, and a lady in a long brown dress was standing on the staircase blocking her way upstairs. Also, one night I woke up to a creaking noise that was coming from my mom's room. When I walked into her room the rocking chair was rocking back and forth, and when I went to see if the window was open in case the wind was blowing... It wasn't... And there was an indention in the chair... As if somebody was sitting in it. Like the mother was rocking her baby to sleep.
When I was in first grade we moved to Grand Isle, but we would come to the house on the weekends. Since we left it was never the same. When we would come home no matter what we did, it was cold (we even got a fireplace installed... We would come home and it had gotten so cold that our plates were cracked and my fish had died), and the house had a weird feeling to it. I missed the house, but I for some reason I just couldn't stay in it when we came to visit. I would ALWAYS go to a friend's house.
One night I had a dream. My mom and I were outside and all of a sudden three men came up to us and tried to kill us. They looked Chinese or Vietnamese. In my dream our yard was a sugarcane field (our house is actually built on what used to be a sugarcane field). The men made a box, and it seemed very important to them. Everything was a sugarcane field -except for our driveway and a tree. The three men killed my mom and I and buried the box next to the tree, the one on the side of our driveway. I know what tree it was in real life but we moved before I ever thought about digging there.
My mom and I were talking one day, and all of a sudden she said that one night she woke up to what seemed to be a horrible fight. It came from the other side of the house -yet it seemed like it was happening right in front of her. From what she remembers there was three men yelling and screaming... Killing the mother and daughter... Just like in my dream, except it wasn't my mom and I. Whatever the men were screaming the K in the language was mostly what was heard. She pictured three men of a Vietnamese type... I had NEVER spoken to her about the dream before.
People that came to our house would hear whispering, see shadows, and they would also hear my toys being played with. They all said that it was coming from my room or the staircase. They knew the house was haunted, but if they were making up stories, how would they know that things usually only happened by my room?
At first my mom and I thought they were just two innocent little ghosts, but our minds were changed. As soon as my mom got the idea to get the house blessed and look up the history of the house, our lives were turned upside down. We were FORCED by my dad to sell the house, and many other things went wrong! When my mom and I thought about everything that had happened over the years, we began to realize maybe we were wrong about the ghosts all along. Where they ever really nice? There was always bugs and snakes in and around the house no matter what. No matter what, it was cold, nobody wanted to stay, they moved out refusing to stay... Everybody except for me and my mom... Doesn't it just seem a little weird that there was a mother and daughter ghost... And me and my mom were the longest people to stay in the house?
We finally moved and our lives seemed so much better. Even thought it was a beautiful house and will never live in one like it again, my mom and I have found a nice town in southern Louisiana, and were just fine without a nice fancy house... I guess money really can't buy happiness.
We actually sold this house not even two years ago. The people that we sold it to had two little twin girls, and I guarantee you they stayed in my room (it was pink and pretty), and that is where most of the stuff happened. The house is already for sale again. I think the girls became scared. Who buys a house for $400,000 and sells it not even two years later? Perhaps they couldn't keep up with it... mowing the yard, having to clean the house... but then again I doubt it... they redid almost the whole house. Doesn't sound like their lazy. I'm dying to know if they experienced the same things that my mom and I did when we lived there. I would get my mom to call them...but they might go crazy on us and sue us.... (we didn't exactly tell them it was haunted.. oopsie.)
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