Many years ago I used to live in Hawaii, on the island of Oahu. I grew up there, met a man in the military, got married, and moved into base housing. I was 19. I made friends with another military spouse, as we were both avid animal lovers and I was helping her raise and care for her rather large menagerie of small animals and do wildlife rehabilitation; mostly birds.
I lived in the old part of base housing- duplexes that were built some time in the 1930s. They were built before electricity was introduced anyway, because all the wiring, etc. Was on the outside of the walls which I thought looked like a mess. Anyway, she lived in another area where the duplexes were newer, cement block construction (by newer I mean probably circa 1960s). When I moved into the duplex with my new husband, I was secretly worried that our housing might be haunted, given that it is so old (and near to Pearl Harbor where lots of trauma occurred). Soon, after spending a few weeks home alone with my husband at work, I realized there was really nothing out of the ordinary and in fact, I began to feel rather cozy in my new place. It was a happy time for me.
My friends and I spent many nights awake late at her house when her husband was deployed. We had many things to do and talk about and we enjoyed caring for the animals together. She has turned her lanai into an aviary by spreading straw and bedding on the floor and I would often help her clean it. She also had a large white parrot that was very bossy and temperamental. Her house was always a fun place to be.
Except for the time when she asked me to feed all her animals the morning she would be gone preparing for the Merri Monarch parade downtown (a Hawaiian hula festival). I agreed to help and drove over to her house the morning she was gone. As I approached her house, something felt wrong. It seemed so dark inside the windows. I know she did not leave light on but it felt very dark for the daytime. But, I thought to myself, it was early morning so the light was not at its full brightness yet. As I opened the door, I just remember feeling scared as though I were doing something wrong or trespassing somehow. I told myself, "That is silly, she asked me to do this!" As I went to put the food in the cages, I felt as though someone was glaring at me or following behind me very closely. I just felt very nervous and uncomfortable. This feeling grew and I worked faster and faster, tossing food in bowls and closing latches as quickly as possible. I felt like there was a timer about to go off somewhere. I know this sounds weird, but as I moved faster I felt as though I were being chased, my heart raced and I realized I was sweaty and in full panic mode. I finally just ran out of the house feeling like someone was chasing me. I could barely lock the door behind me. In fact, I'm not sure if I did.
Later, I told my friend about the weird experience I had in her house and remarked that I never felt scared like that in all the times I had visited her before (which were many). I told her that I really felt like I was not allowed to be there and I explained the feeling of being "chased" out. It was like someone was just screaming in my face, seething with anger, and how there was palpable tension in the air. It was like a potentially violent argument was taking place and I was caught in the middle.
She said, "Oh yeah...that...I forgot to tell you about that. Honestly, I didn't think you would notice it." Um...ok. What was it?" I asked. She said that she felt it too when she first moved in when it was just her alone and her husband was gone. Then she said it was nothing to worry about and it eventually didn't bother her because she learned to deal with it. I asked her what she thought it was. She said that she had spoken to some neighbors about a "creepy" feeling in her house. They said that some years ago a man lived there with his wife (obviously...duh this is base housing, you only get that if you are married or have kids) and after many bad arguments and fights she left him (again, not that uncommon in the military). Although there was no evidence, I felt that this man had killed himself in the house in the back left bedroom. I told my friend this and she denied its possibility. She thought the negative feelings were probably residual from the extreme depression and stress suffered by the man.
She and I have both since moved so this is no longer a problem, and nothing bad every happened to her in her home. But I felt a strong sense of impending danger when I was there. I have always been curious. Residual or not?