I’ve mentioned before that I live in an extremely haunted house. You may think either a house is haunted or it isn’t. Not so! I’ve lived in a few haunted houses in my day, and this house is extremely haunted.
Here’s how the truth unraveled:
When I looked at the house before deciding to purchase it, the realtor seemed reluctant to even take me to the dilapidated second floor, referring to it as an “attic”. Yet it had a large sitting room and two bedrooms. It was in a bad state of disrepair though, and the vibe wasn’t so pleasant. I assumed it was the water damaged ceiling and walls falling down that was causing it the icky feeling. It was an icky space. I thought this would be a good project and fixing it up would make all the bad vibes feel so much better.
The renter that was living in the downstairs at the time said she had a friend that wouldn’t go up there again because she had a “bad feeling” about what was up there. I still managed to convince myself it was just the decrepit state of affairs up there causing that feeling. You’d think that I, of all people, could differentiate.
I bought the house and started moving in. It was my first home purchase. I was on my own.
The first week I lived here, I maybe should have stopped unpacking, repacked and moved on. I chose to stay and it has been an adventure, to say the least, ever since.
At first, the
experiences were relatively benign and I hadn’t actually seen any ghosts, just the remnants of their activities.
For instance, I would come home from work to find every single light on in the house. That’s including the “attic” and basement/cellar. Two places I never visited. On a few other occasions, I’d come home to find, in January mind you, every window in the house wide open, again, including the “attic”. On these occasions, I did call the local police department to come to check things out. After all, I was a young girl living alone. Of course, nothing ever turned up. I did have an alarm system installed as a precaution though. And frequently, the motion sensors in the system would go off. Even after the alarm company testing and replacing things, could never find a reason for the alarms. I eventually just had it disconnected.
At this point, I was pretty certain about what was going on here.
Then the whistling started. Oh my god, the incessant whistling! I could hear someone walking from room to room, day in and day out, whistling. For weeks, maybe months, it drove me crazy.
Really? No one hears that? Come on! Seriously, someone else has to hear that!
You may remember, at this point, I was terrified to talk to them, so I just took it as long as I could. Then one day, I just broke. I screamed out loud, “SHUT UP!”.
It stopped. Silence.
You know I love a little validation, so here it is: A coworker of mine at the time was talking about her aunt and uncle’s house from her childhood. Then she stopped and looked at me and stated that they used to live in the house I live in now. Really? Then I became interested. She was saying that her aunt and uncle loved to have all the kids over and her uncle would usually just pace while watching over them and whistle little tunes the entire time.
I told her he still did.
It wasn’t long after that when I had my first sighting of those who I am sharing this house with. And things only get more peculiar from there…
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