Thank God We Left When We Did

My husband and I were married April 2012, and are expecting our first child, a boy, next month, September 2012. Just to brush up on my life, thought I would share that! Oh yeah, and this story is long, but this story is true, and if you like true stories, then please continue to read!

Around June 2012, after learning our baby was a boy, we decided to convert the room attached to our bedroom to our child's nursery. If you read in my previous stories, you will know that this particular room is what my little brother, Ben, refers to as the "demon" or "bad" room. But it is an attachment onto our bedroom, so it is the closest and seemingly safest place for a baby to be. I decided one day to start cleaning that room up and painting it. So I went to the local hardware store and bought acrylic forest green and sandy brown paint. We were doing a safari theme for our son's nursery! So, I painted the walls and trim. I had planned to draw a tree on the biggest wall and put monkey sticker decals as though they were swinging from the tree. We got all of everything ready that could be ready at that time. My baby shower was July 7th. I was just shy of 30 weeks pregnant.

We got a pretty heavy rainfall one week and Florida can be pretty unpredictable. My husband and I were asleep one early morning. It must have been before 6 am because the sun doesn't rise until after 6 am. We were awoken by a very loud bang. It sounded like a car crashed into the side of the house. He and I both jumped up. We were awoken and very startled. He and I looked at each other like, "What the hell was that?" My dog started really barking.

So I jumped out of bed and looked around the house. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Until I walked into the kitchen. The floor was littered in debris and water. It was still raining heavily outside. I call for Charles, and he comes running in. "OH MY GOD, what the hell happened?" I said the ceiling fell in. Look. All the particle board that made up the ceiling was caved in, and now all over my kitchen floor. It was a mess. It wasn't like we could look up and see the sky. The ceiling fell in, not the roof! He and I were very upset. I just told him, "Look, we cannot stay here any longer." We knew we had to move. But when the roof came in, we saw the mold and knew a baby would be very sick in this environment! That day I started looking for places to rent. It took us about 2-1/2 weeks to find a place. And in that two weeks, the following happened.

As my husband started cleaning the kitchen little by little... We started to also pack. But whatever was in the house was making it very difficult to do so. Charles would bring home boxes and packing tape. Even bought a big permanent marker for marking boxes. He would mostly work during the day, and I would pack what I could. One day I woke up kind of late. Not feeling too grand, for this pregnancy hasn't been the easiest one, I put a box on my kitchen table and next to pair of scissors and a roll of packing tape. I went to the bathroom and then back to kitchen and started packing all my kitchen utensils and plates and pans and what not. I got that box fully packed. I went to grab the packing tape, that I knew I had sat right beside the box... And even if wasn't beside the box, I knew it was on the kitchen table. And I am not supposed to lift heavy things, so while packing that box I had sat it on the floor, so I could just scoot it across the floor and out of my way. But where in the heck was my tape? I couldn't find it, I couldn't see it. I ran around the house searching for my tape. Looking in places that I knew it would never have ended up. I gave up on that roll and just got another roll from the package of tape my husband had bought. I taped the box up and went on with it.

Then for some odd reason, I felt the need to pack what little bit of baby items I had. A few outfits, bottles, wipes... Just small stuff. So I grabbed another box and folded it together and went into my son's would-be nursery. I looked around the room, quite sad. I had spent so much time painting that room and I was beginning to love it. I put so much effort and hours into that room. And now I had to leave it. I had great visions of painting the big tree on the wall, with the monkeys and his name in the middle of it. I had bought some decorative vine from the dollar store to look like vines going up the wall. I had already put safari decal stickers on the wall. And I had painted the changing table and designed it to look part in a safari. So yeah, I was a little depressed that my son would never sleep in this amazing room that I had designed.

But now, I'm sure glad he isn't. As I started packing up baby boy's items, I reached in the closet to get hanging clothes. And that's where I found a roll of a tape. It was just sitting there on the shelf. And I knew it was the roll I had put on the kitchen table. It was the only other roll of tape open besides the brand new one I had just opened. "Hmm, this is quite odd. How did the tape get all the way in here? I don't know, but I do know that's not where I put it. Ok, so that was weird. But I'm not going to let it affect me." I continue to do what I had been doing. Strange, little things like that happened over the course of 2 weeks until we finally moved out and into an apartment. Things like flickering lights, foul smells, and no, not the smell from the mold in the kitchen. These smells popped up randomly and sometimes smelled extremely bad, sometimes really good. The water heater would have to be turned back on, on a daily basis. Because it would sometimes flip it's switch off. And Charles would have to go out there and turn it back on. He checked it. He's the type that has to get down to the bottom of things and he'll sometimes even spend hours working on one thing, but he didn't find anything wrong with the water heater.

On a few occasions the toilet flushed by itself, and then would randomly get clogged without a moment's notice. Just a few weird things like that. It's like if it could go wrong, it would. Our central air even went out. But before it did it started dripping. It has its own lock away hide closet, the A/C does. And one day, I started hearing drip... Drip... Drip! I located it to the air. I told Charles about it when he got home and he tried to fix it. He said the pipe was clogged in the A/C and he unclogged it. The air stopped dripping after that, but like 3 days later it just stopped working. The refrigerator in the kitchen started leaking and we woke up one day to a big puddle surrounding it on the kitchen floor. The breakers would blow and we would have to go outside and flip them.

I wouldn't blame all this on the paranormal, if it had been happening the whole time we lived there. Or not even that, but if it didn't all happen at once. But if wasn't the toilet, it was the A/C. If it wasn't that, it was the fridge, and if not that it was something to do with the plumbing, or the electrical or something was heard, or moved or smelled. But it was kind of like a Murphy's Law effect. If it wasn't one thing, it was another.

We finally got our bed to the new apartment. At least, we can sleep in a clean, mold free place. Still going back to the old house to pack things and move them, one Sunday after my husband got off work, we went out to Chinese restaurant and then back to the old house. It was night-time, around 8 pm. Charles went to the bathroom but before he did, I asked him to find me a small box so I can put knick-knacks and such things in it. On the refrigerator I had a bunch of magnets and pictures displayed. So Charles found me a shoe box to put it all in. He put the shoe box on the stove. The stove was about 5 feet from the fridge so I went over and moved the box to the table and started loading the magnets and pictures into it.

Next to stove we had a toaster oven. Now, Charles and I haven't cooked or really lived in this house for almost a week now, so he had everything unplugged including the stove, the microwave and the toaster oven. Charles comes out of the bathroom and I can hear him making a sniffing sound with his nose. He walks into the kitchen, "Uhm... Jessica, uh..." he's waving his arms for me to look behind myself. I thought he was trying to be funny, so I just looked at him like, yeah... What do you want? Then he pointed with his finger so I finally looked behind me, and there was a bellow of smoke just steaming from the toaster oven. "OH MY GOD!" How did that happen? From the time I took the shoe box from the stove and placed it on the table, my toaster oven had gotten plugged in, and turned on 450 degrees, max heat. How? I have no idea. But it ruined my toaster oven. It hasn't worked since then and we had to throw it out.

Our friend has been staying in the old house since we've left. We signed the lease to our apartment on July 6th, the day before my baby shower. And since my husband has his own computer business, he has been keeping his computers at the old house. Our friend is a residential contractor, so he has sealed up the kitchen roof temporarily, making it somewhat livable. He patched the roof and fixed what he could and just pretty much has been sleeping there since he works all day long. He is off on Saturdays and Sundays, and has been helping my husband with his computer business on the weekends.

Well one weekend, a Saturday, he was called into work. He keeps his clothes and wardrobe in the room that would have been our nursery. His dresser and all his clothes are in there, and he uses it as his closet. So this Saturday morning comes and he gets ready for work. He has to go into that back room to get dressed for work. Well, when he came home that night, he flipped the light on and hundreds of dead bees were all over the place. Not throughout the house, just in that back room. Which is now why I thank God I never had my son in that room. If he would have been stung, especially by the number of bees in there, he most certainly would have died. What baffles me is how did the bees get in there? There are 2 windows in the room, one of which is an old crank-style window that never properly closed right, so my husband sealed that window up with caulk, sealing foam and screws months ago, pretty much right after we moved in. The other window is a pull up window with a lock on top. It's a fairly new window, and our friend claims it was indeed shut and locked.

He said he had the window open the other week, but since all this rain has been coming in with the Hurricane Isaac, he had to seal it shut. This happened just a few days ago. There are no cracks in the ceiling and there is no air vent in the room. We had bought a humidifier with a fan for the baby and when you leave the door open to that room from ours, it gets pretty comfortable in that room. Weird thing about the bees is, where did they come from? How did they get in there? How did 200+ bees get in there and every single one be flat dead as a dodo bird in less than 9 hours? From the time our friend went to work, until when he got home, which was about 8-9 hours. And why just that room?

Our friend had said that that room door was open along with the bedroom door! So why weren't they in any other part of the house besides there? When my husband and I talk about it, we like to believe it was the house saying it was angry. Some say that structures and homes themselves can harvest energy. And can, to say the least, "Have Feelings!" Like my brother said when we moved into the house, the house was asleep and nothing happened to the house or to the people who lived there... The house stayed silent, quiet, asleep, until we moved in. And for those who don't know about my brother Ben, he is a sensitive to the energy of the paranormal. He can see, hear and communicate with spirits, he can astral project, and go back in time with his mind to see events that took place. Like a paranormal medium can do. He is 12 years old.

Charles and I determined that the house is angry with us for leaving. And no one believes that the house is haunted or not even that, but that it is surrounded with its own energy. Every time I try to talk to anyone about it, even the owner of the home, they think I am crazy. And the owner is my husband's best friend so I feel I can say anything to him, but apparently not! My husband still goes there at least 3 times a week to do his computer work and sometimes he'd even tell me not to bother picking him up, he'd stay there with our friend and do extra work.

I personally think he just likes to get out and our friend always cooks and provides the beer. Lol! Until the bees. After the incident with the bees happened, my husband has not slept over there since. And I personally don't think he will again. I am 37 weeks pregnant now, and he needs to be home with me anyways, just in case. This baby can come at anytime.

Thank you for reading my story. And I would love personal insight, or advice... Or if you think you can debunk any of this, please do so. Because that house has me scared.

Even in our new place, which is a brand new never lived in before apartment... Strange things have happened here. Like our fire alarm deciding to go off at 3 o'clock in the morning 2 nights in a row. Or like when I was washing a load of baby clothes, our washer decided to stop working, but started working again for the next "test" load and has been working like a champ ever since.

I have lived in several places my whole life. And as far as I can recall, only one of those places, an apartment in Winter Garden that I lived in with my mother and 2 brothers when I was 16, was the only place I had ever lived where no paranormal or scary experience, per se, ever happened.