I've been reading through stories on this site for about year or so but haven't wanted to contribute until now. This is actually the first time these experiences have existed anywhere other than my memory.
The earliest memories of odd occurrences were when I was in early Elementary school. When my family and I first moved into the blue house, I became friends with the girl next door. She was the first one to tell me the story of the house. She said that a man was shot and died in the house just a couple of years ago and that's all the information she had. Being so young, this terrified me. I wondered in what room the shooting took place and played the scene in my mind with different rooms of the house as the stage. Looking back now I realize the energy/being/spirit seemed to be mindful of my being so young and easily frightened. The personal experiences I had over the years were mild compared to the experiences of other family members. I can recall things like the TV remote being swiped off the armrest of the couch and crashing down onto the tile floor. Sometimes late in the evening, my mother would come into the living room where my brother and I were still watching TV and tell us it's time to turn it off and get ready for bed. We'd turn it off and we'd all start walking away when the TV would turn back on. My mother would laugh it off by saying "I guess someone wasn't done watching that." There were a few times I was in the shower and was frozen stiff after seeing finger prints and hand prints pressed through the other side of the shower curtain when there was no one else in the bathroom. The shower incidents were the creepiest ones and just seemed unnecessary. I also remember the water issues. I would be in the living room and hear the faucet turn on full blast in the kitchen. Or my mother would be doing dishes and the water would shut off. I have no idea if they ever got the plumbing looked at or not.
After a few years I guess my parents figured we were old enough and stopped denying the existence of "something" in the house. I finally got the whole story that the landlord had told my parents. The man who lived there was a plumber, his wife was the one who shot him (I still don't know why), and he did die in the house. Once the secret was out my mother tried her hardest to get him some help. My mother is Catholic, but also a spiritually open-minded person, believe it or not. She brought in psychics to no avail. Then someone had given her instructions on how to cleanse the house herself with holy water and by drawing crosses in white chalk over every door way. But he stayed. My father told me that he had seen him multiple times when he would be up writing. My father is something of an eccentric nocturnal writer and is always up all night.
When I was around 14 we moved, get this: to the house right across the street. All was quiet there, but he was never that bothersome to begin with. I think my parent's reason for moving was that the rent was cheaper. When a new family moved into our old house, my parents befriended them and over time they confided in my parents and the stories began. Apparently they were experiencing chaos in the house. The plumber was violently attacking this man's family and no one could get any sleep. I felt bad for them and for the plumber. I wondered why he was so upset. He never did anything like that to us. He was even helpful at times. When I couldn't find a paper for school or something else I misplaced, he would put it in plain view or sometimes I felt like he would guide me to it because I would have a "eureka moment" and check somewhere I never thought to look, and there it was. As I got older my interest in the paranormal grew and my next experience was a much darker one.
I started dating this guy when I was 16 and I moved out with him when I was 18. We lived in some dump duplex but we were happy to have our own place. Since I grew up in a haunted house, I was obsessed with all things paranormal and since I'm spawned from open-minded genes I turned into a bit truth seeker. I gave up my Catholic roots long before this and was on a spiritual quest to find a proper home for my soul. I was studying a few major religions: Catholicism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, but always came up empty-hearted. I eventually started reading about Wicca, Witchcraft, Voodoo, and Satanism. I was heavy into shop lifting at the time because, well, we were always broke. I took the bus to and from work back then and one of the stops the bus made was at a local mall. One day I decided to get off at the mall and walk around. I went into the bookstore and headed for the Religious section as usual. That day I came across The Satanic Bible, stuffed it into my purse and casually left the store. When I got home I started reading it. I read it on my bus trips the next day and by the time I got home that evening, I had finished the book. It was basically a cover to cover bashing and mocking of Catholicism but it totally changed the stereotype of Satan and Satanists for me. It's an extremely selfish religion and I used Ayn Rand's philosophy to justify this religion's appeal.
My boyfriend was as open-minded as I was and decided to read it as well. We were sucked into it. We stole items for an altar and started performing Black Masses and rituals for material things we wanted. I remember that during Mass I would begin feeling weak and start sweating like I was exerting tons of energy (or it was being pulled out of me). At the end of Mass we were always drained, so we took that as a sign that something was happening and we were doing it correctly. When we started getting what we wanted, my boyfriend turned devout. One morning he woke up and said "Let's go get tattoos." We walked to a tattoo shop and ended up getting matching inverted pentagrams on our left forearms. I still have it to this day. I've never gotten it covered up or removed and I never will. It's a part of my history and my path.
As we descended further into this occult lifestyle, the Ouija board came out. I know all of you religious nuts are bracing for the worse, and, you're absolutely correct in your convictions. After a Mass we took the board out, placed it on the floor, sat on opposite ends, and put our fingers on the planchette. The only question I can recall was the question that sparked the madness. My boyfriend asked the board: "Are you of God?" The planchette slowly glided towards "No." Then, I felt this warmth ascend from my fingers all the way up my arms. I blankly looked up at my boyfriend with only my eyes and he said I blinked rapidly. Now, I'm going to try my hardest to lay out the proceeding happenings in the most coherent manner possible but in my mind the rest of the night is choppy. I remember still staring at him and noticed he looked nervous and then he said "Okay, that's enough." and pushed the board off to the side. It was late so he started to get into bed and I did the same. I remember lying next to him and laughing manically. I was laughing because I could hear his heart beating and the only thing running through my mind was ways to stop it. He soon got out of bed, turned on the light and called me out on the strange behaviour.
My boyfriend was a very intuitive person and knew what was going on. I did too, but I hate to say that I was enjoying it. Somehow I ended up in the kitchen and I heard him saying "Get out! Get out of my house! You are not welcomed here!" I knew he wasn't talking to me but I responded "No!" I was now on the kitchen floor and he was standing over me telling me to accept Jesus into my heart. This, I knew was directed towards me. He kept telling me to "Say it!" So, I did. I screamed "I do! I accept Jesus into my heart!" At that point I remember starting to cry uncontrollably then peace and calm wrapped around me. I will never forget that feeling of tranquillity. I stopped crying just as suddenly as I started and he got down on the floor with me and held me for I don't know how long. The next thing I can recall is the following day. I didn't have to work but he did. I was still shaken by the experience and was left alone in the house. He told me to pray if I felt scared. Ever since that night we always felt a "presence" in that house. I would be on the computer and feel my boyfriend walk into the room so I turn around to greet him and no one would be there. I'd get up to see where he was and he would be in a snoring open-mouthed sleep on the couch. Things like that were constant. I often wonder why I've never SEEN these beings or energy or whatever they are.
Well now I'm 24. The boyfriend from the previous experience and I parted ways in 2006. I've since gotten engaged to a childhood friend and couldn't be happier. But, my ex-boyfriend still makes regular, vivid appearances in my dreams and enters my thoughts frequently. I believe we're forever connected by a spiritual bond because of what we went through... And of course the tattoos.
I haven't had any notable experiences since that one. As illogical as it sounds considering my experience--I'm not a religious person. However, I'm a very spiritual person, still seeking the truth.
So what does everyone think? In retrospect, I question some of these experiences and try to explain them logically since time has dulled the initial emotions. I'd love to get some feedback.