The story starts out like this, I was a small child at the time, only about 5, and the other person in this event is my brother, he was about 16 at the time. My family had bought our first house in Bartlett Illinois, and we were vey excited to move in. The previous owner had all of the windows covered with blankets and he never seemed to come out of the house we thought nothing of it and we moved in. For the first few months nothing really happened, and we were all really happy to be in the house.
Of course things got worse, after a while, in my room (which I shared with my brother on bunk beds). My brother and I could hear noises at night coming from the basement, and for a while we thought nothing of it, and just blocked it out of our minds. Then the noises turned into voices after a few weeks, and there were two, one of a small child or baby crying and a man in about his 40's laughing manically and yelling at the baby to be quiet. Now of course our parents didn't believe us and just told us we were watching too much TV. And my older sister who was 18 at the time told us the same thing, until she started to hear it too.
First she came into our room, and told us to stop making noises, and we told her we weren't and she said "yea right just stop okay?" then about a week later, she heard the voices again, and she heard sounds on someone walking up our basement stairs, now she freaked and got mad at us and opened the door but no one was there, she went into our room and saw that me and my brother were both there, she got really scared and stayed in our room that night.
About a month later, my dad was at work, my mom was out running errands, and my sister who could drive now were out with her friends, so my brother had to watch me in our house. Now up until this time, we only heard the voices at night around 2-3 am. It was about noon and we were in the TV room, and we heard the man and the baby from upstairs in the basement, finally my brother got fed up with it and tried to go yell at the spirit and tell it to stop bothering us and to tell it to leave. This apparently made it angry because he heard me start crying from downstairs like something was trying to hurt me, and he ran upstairs and found me crying on the couch. At this point he was scared and angry at the same time, and when he started saying again for the thing to leave he hard the laughing downstairs again. So he took me by the hand this time and went downstairs again, we were at the bottom of the stairs when we heard from downstairs, our kitchen cabinets creak open, and plates start dropping from them, we freaked out and ran to our neighbour's house until my mom got home. We told her the story and she just got mad at us and said we broke the plates just for the story. My dad basically said the same thing when he got home.
Three months later my parents got a divorce and we moved out of the house with my mother. We later learned that the house was built on an ancient Indian burial ground and we also learned the after we left, the garage burned down for some mysterious reason, but once in a while I will drive by there and I still get the ominous feeling like there is something in there and I drive away a little faster.
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