My parents bought an old house with the intent of renovating it (they did, it’s fabulous). Before it was renovated, my dad and I stayed there for a while.
Doors would open and shut completely while we stood there chatting and watching. Now, I understand a door swinging open/shut one way, especially if there was an open window or the floors were warped, etc., but this wasn’t the case. We’d just be sitting there, chatting away, and kind of slowly trail off in conversation watching as the door went click and swung open, then swung quietly shut and click closed.
Didn’t stop us from staying and sleeping there, though.
After it was renovated, there would be creepy sounds. Sounds like the cutlery in the sink being moved around. I understand that might be noises from the pipes, so I’m going to discount that, but it’s creepy as all hell to be sitting there reading a book and hear clink… scrape… clink… scrape right behind you in the sink. And of course when you go to the sink and look in, you’re pretty sure the fork has been moved from one side to another, but you can’t – won’t – trust your memory.
And there were sounds like someone walking across the floor. Dad and I were sitting downstairs talking – the tv was on mute during a commercial – and we heard a sound like someone ran across the floor directly above us. We kind of looked up and looked at each other, and laughed. We know the house is locked; there’s no animals; it’s not the sound of the house settling or the ventilation.
Then there was the time that I was there alone. It was about 12:30 am and suddenly right above my ahead upstairs was the sound of heavy men’s boots stomping across the floor and stopping at the head of the stairs (which is literally a few feet away from where I was sitting). I froze in terror. I’m alone there, it’s late at night, and I’m convinced someone has somehow broken into the house and is standing there in darkness at the top of the stairs waiting for me to make my move. There wouldn’t be time enough for me to make a break for the back door. So what did I do?
Reached for the phone and called my mommy like the scaredy cat that I am. And while she was on the phone with me I checked that house from top to bottom. Everything was locked. Nobody was there. My mom mocked me and hung up. I did not sleep well that night.
My dad died when I was 2, so needless to say I didn’t know anything about him aside from the generic “Your father was a great man.” Well one night I fell asleep like any other night, and it brings tears to my eyes every time I tell this story. Anyway, I fall asleep and I have this dream that I talked to him, but I don’t remember what it was about. I remember crying a lot and that he was sitting on a chair that he pulled up right in front of my bed. I wake up the next morning with a vague recollection of what happened, and my eyes were puffy and red like they had been crying. And then there it was, a chair positioned towards me not 1 foot away from my bed in the same spot I remember him sitting. Mind you the chair was originally on the other side of the room pushed into my desk. I’m not much for superstitions and ghosts but I like to think that he visited me that night.