Today is one of my favorite holidays, one that is often overlooked in the glare of the coming Christmas season. I read Stacey Nash’s post and although not part of that blog hop, I thought it would be cool to share one of my true ghost stories. ‘Tis the season, after all. 😉
I have several, since the house I grew up in (and where my parents still live) was haunted. I use the past tense because the spirit(s) that was once there has moved on. When I was 5 or 6, I remember waking up one night to hear all of the kitchen cabinets open and close. It was like someone was walking through, searching for something. The sound was unnatural and I was instantly terrified. I knew it wasn’t any of my family because the house was pitch black. That was the day I became afraid of the dark. I still can’t sleep and will panic if a room is pitch black. I sleep with a nightlight on. Not ashamed to admit it. Another instance of the ghost in our house was when my older sister was a teenager. I think my twin Abby and I were 12 or so. All the family was at the kitchen table. I think we were playing a game or something. There was a sudden crash from the back of the house. When we went to check it out, everything had been knocked off my sister’s dresser. It looked like someone had swiped a hand across it. I got chills. No one else was home. We didn’t have cats in the house at the time who could’ve knocked it over. The windows weren’t open so it couldn’t have been a strong gust of wind. The only thing I can figure is it was our ghost.
My sister slept in the middle room at that time and it seemed this ghost had it in for her. I think it has something to do with teenage hormones. Have you ever noticed it’s usually the teenage girls who are haunted? She told me years later, after she moved out, that one night something pulled her covers off and she felt someone glaring at her. It was too dark to see if anyone was really there. And she was too scared! When we were teenagers and the only kids left at home, my sister and I moved into that middle room. Nothing supernatural ever happened in our old room. But when we moved to the middle room, I would wake up at night to someone whispering my name. I felt someone watching me, though it never pulled off the covers. The whispering happened almost every night, right in my ear. I think now that the ghost just wanted help moving on.
My theory is that it was the ghost of Clayton, a man our granddaddy told us about. Clayton was a freed slave. The land our house was built on used to be the slave quarters of the Kenan Plantation. The remnants of a slave cabin stood behind our house as long as I can remember but has since disintegrated. Clayton stayed on the land. He had a wooden leg, or so Granddaddy said. Granddaddy was quite the storyteller so he may have embellished. 😉
Activity wasn’t limited to the middle bedroom. I remember once that the TV remote kept turning to channel 11 when we were trying to watch a movie. Replaced the batteries and it kept happening. The stereo would sometimes come on by itself.
My mom would tell us it was our imaginations and there was no such thing as ghosts. But years later, when we were all adults, she finally admitted she used to hear the back door open and someone walk down the hallway toward her room. My dad worked the night shift back then and she would think it was him…except she knew it wasn’t and it sounded unnatural. Almost like an echo of what it really sounds like.
Once, when Abby and I were teenagers, after working with our parents in the field all day, we heard it. Funny thing was it was daytime. I was in the middle room and she was in the bathroom across the hall. Our parents were on the porch swing outside. The back door opened and it sounded like heavy work boots stomped through the house, walked by the rooms we were in (it didn’t sound right, I was frozen in fear and couldn’t look), straight to our parents’ room and their bathroom. The door slammed. I still remember how Abby and I opened our doors and looked at one another, wide-eyed, then looked out at our parents, who we could see out the side door were still on the swing. Then we looked toward their room. It took a huge amount of courage to go to Mom’s room and open that bathroom door, which was closed. No one was there. The footsteps hadn’t come back out of that room. The air conditioner was on so no windows were open. The door couldn’t have blown closed. I have no explanation for it, other than it was the ghost.
I have a few other stories, some at that house, some in other places I’ve lived. I guess some people attract the activity and I might be one of them. It’s been years since I personally experienced something paranormal. I’ll be okay if I never do again. 😉 I’d love to hear your stories so feel free to leave them in the comments, or write a blog of your own if so inclined. 🙂 Happy Halloween!