I have told only a few people about the experiences in the old family house my grandparents owned. I wish I knew more of the history and the exact year it was made. I do know that it was standing in 1885 and perhaps before this. It started as a two room house with a detached summer kitchen, over the years the kitchen was moved and joined to the house and a second story was added. What follows is a list of happenings myself and my family have experienced in that house and why I will NEVER go back there.
The two story house was owned by my mother's parents and has been in the family for at least three generations. I remember as a child playing all over, from the attic to the old barn. The "hauntings" came and went. Some days there was only joy and laughter, the fun of a child exploring. Other days you wanted to run away but even outside wasn't safe. On days like that you knew someone was watching you from the upstairs window. But the feeling was filled with malice that you felt even as a child. I thought that someday I would eventually see someone if I glanced up quickly enough but I never did.
When I was around 6 to 8 my father put in a ground source system for my grandparents. Let me take a minute to explain the upstairs layout. From the living room you would go up 13 steps to the top bedroom. From that room you would walk into another one. I never remember a door but only a curtain or nothing at all between the two rooms. In the second room there was an entrance to the attic. You had to bend down to get in and then step down into it.
When my father put in the air system he cut a hole in the attic wall directly above the staircase for a vent. While he was working on it the attic seemed fine. I would bring him lunch and sit next to him. As soon as the work was finished, the oppresive feeling that resided there came back. Talking with people later I realized that we all had this same thought when walking up or down the stairs. Something in your head told you to run past it, while visions of a long black hand reaching out at your would dance in your vision. Imaginations are strong things, however, all of my siblings felt the same as well as both of my parents.
The other thing I remember as a kid there was someone pulling hair and pinching; believe me, my sister and I got into many a scrap over who was instigating it. Also, my grandmother had an old typewriter and she would accuse us kids of messing with it using all of her red ink. There would be pages and pages of mumbled letters printed out. Nothing with a message or sentence just a confused jumble but once or twice the words help and out would be seen.
When I was 19 (6 years ago) my grandmother approached my father about moving into the house and her and Papa would put a trailer onto the property so they didn't have to do stairs anymore. He agreed before talking to Mom about it and she just started weeping over it. She begged him to not make her live in that house ever again. She hadn't told us all she experienced (still hasn't) but my mother does not get scared and does not cry. We moved in despite her protests and everything was ok for awhile.
Before I relate the rest of this, I would preface it by saying that my Grandmother was a preacher with her own following. To say they were a regular congregation or group would be false as they became more and more occult. Grandma would tell her children that God would strike them dead if they didn't please her in all things and when she was pregnant in her late 30s she blamed satan for it. Many of the goings on in the house happened at moments when she was mad at my family for not following her and her group.
After we moved them out into the nicely setup and now disability enabled trailer, things started getting very unpleasant. The feelings that we would get worsened. You no longer felt uneasy, you felt unsafe. She had left some paintings in the house, hideous ones with malformed children feeding scraggly ducks, that sort of thing. She told us we could throw them away or whatever but we knew better. Mom wanted to redo the living room but of course we were nervous about putting them away. I suggested putting it in the Diningroom and keep her happy until we get to that room. Mom nodded her head in agreement, I took it down, laid it against the wall where I was going to hang it, and went for the hammer. Before I could get it the phone rang.
Understand that my Grandmother was in her new house which was approx 2 acres away and there is NO WAY anyone could see into the Dining room from that side of the house anyway. The call was her and her first words were, "Why did you take that painting down? I don't want you touching it, put it back up now!" Mom, asked which painting and demanded to know what she was talking about. Grandma explained in detail what we were doing and said the she didn't like my idea. When asked how she knew that, she wouldn't give any clear answer.
After this I was upstairs redecorating the rooms up there. The kids had taken to sleeping on the floor in the livingroom and would spend no time up there other than to get their clothes. Mom's solution was to make them "fun" to stay in. Only myself and my mother was in the livingroom when this happened. Mom was in the kitchen cooking lunch. For this bit let's call the room with the attic the yellow room and the other one the blue room. Carpet colors you see.:) I was in the yellow room and stepped into the blue room for a few minutes. When I came back the attic door was open. I thought it curious because you have to lift up on the door to raise it over a bump to open it. I made sure it was shut securely before continuing. When I left and stepped back in again the door was open.
I am a down to earth person and do not get spooked easily. So, I decided to lock it to keep the heat from getting in. The lock is an old fashioned one so you have to you pull it up, slide it over, and then slide it down. It is unpleasant to lock it at the best of times but I made sure it was secure before going about my business. Of course, the door was open again. I was trying so hard not to panic at this point but I locked it again and moved a very heavy chair in front of it. One of those spinning chairs from the 60s that you have to walk anywhere you want it unless you are the hulk. I stepped out and then back but was only gone for a few seconds. (I know because I counted and then went back to see the result. The door was open and the chair was in the middle of the room spinning in place.
The thing that sealed the deal was when my sisters were sleeping upstairs again and one of them got hurt. Amanda (fake name) had told us time and again that something would wake her up and then she couldn't move. Dad told her it was sleep paralysis and that she was overreacting.
That night they were sleeping in the yellow room when the attic door opened and heat just poured out and then it turned icy cold. Amanda saw a shadowy figure at the end of the bed and then it was at the side of the bed. She couldn't move as the shadow hovered over her and then got on top of her, pushing her down into the best. My other sister Diane woke up with a terrible feeling and then realized that the bed was sinking down. She looked over to see Amanda sinking deeper and deeper into the bed and struggling for breath. Before Diane could get off of the bed, it sunk so low that she rolled off, OVER Amanda and hit her head on the night stand.
My family didn't take long in leaving then. There was always the small stuff in that house, things moving, bad feelings and thoughts, sounds of walking in the attic and breathing. But we had never encountered anything so awful as that. We had friends help us move and we hadn't told them ANYTHING about this. The husband told Dad that he felt that someone was watching him fron the upstairs and the wife wouldn't let her two small boys out her site. She confessed to my mother that she felt that something wanted to hurt them.
The only thing I would add to this is that when staying over in that house I had a recurring dream. It only ever happened in that house. I dreamed that there was an opening in the attic and that there was an elevator that ran down inside the wall and opened on the outside of the front of the house. There were all of these different people and creatures that used it and there was a keeper in the attic deciding who could use it. The keeper was all black like night but shiny and very mean. This gentleman in 19th century garb with dark hair and a mustache would always take the elevator but get stuck in the walls. He kept asking me to help him out but I didn't know how and was scared of the keeper. I had this dream well over 20 times in that house. I don't know what bearing it has on anything but that man always got stuck and couldn't get out and I was always scared of the keeper.
I would be interested in hearing any thoughts on this from anyone. My family has had experiences before and I have had experiences after. We all are also very perceptive of individuals and their true intent. Some people can't understand why I refuse to be friends with some individuals or why some leave me shuddering and wishing for a safe place as they don't sense anything out of the ordinary. All I do know is, we will never set foot in that house again. Also an odd thing... There was a door in the middle of the wall upstairs. My Great grandmother had a dream about it over and over so they put one there but never made a balcony.