I wanted to share some things that happened to me when I was a teenager. We lived on Wallace Street in Taylor, Texas. My dad died when I was 15, so I moved into the home with my mom. I should tell you, I didn't consider most of these things to be possibly paranormal until recently. I usually came up with another explanation and moved on. As I was thinking about all the things that happened in the house, I realized something must have been going on there.
The first thing I remember was when my brother and I were babysitting my cousin one night shortly after my dad died. It would've been 1999. My cousin was 3 at the time. We were sitting on our couch in the living room when my cousin looked up toward the hallway and asked, "Who's that man?" This hallway was between my room and the bathroom. I immediately got scared. I was always afraid that someone would break into the house. That was my biggest fear at the time. I was sure there was a murderer in the bathroom waiting for us. My brother tried to brush it off and say it was the heater turning on. Really?! Would a child say, "WHO's that man?" when they hear a noise? I don't think so. I have a 3 year old and he says, "I hear something" or "What's that?" when he hears a sound. I made my brother go check it out and I followed. We made it into the bathroom and it was empty.
I didn't think about this until many years later. I believe my cousin saw someone. He had never met my dad, so he wouldn't have known what he looked like. I wish I had asked my cousin to describe the man. I think it's possible that my dad was walking through the house. Or maybe someone else...
I was doing a school project on the floor in my living room one night. I was alone since my brother had gone off to college and my mom was out. I remember sitting there working when I heard a light tap, 3 times, on the glass door in the room. We had a door with glass panels that had been sealed shut long before we moved in, so it wasn't a usable door. It led to our side yard. It startled me a little when I heard the noise. I wasn't freaked out, but I was aware of the sound. I quickly brushed it off. I got back to work and then there was a louder tap, 3 times. That's when my ears perked up and I started thinking of an explanation for the sound. Could it be a tree branch? No, our tree branches didn't reach down that low. Could it be the dog? No, she couldn't reach high enough without jumping on the door. Could it be someone playing a joke? Maybe, but there were no kids on my street and I didn't know anyone that lived in town. I happened to go to school 2 towns over.
I stared at the window, willing my eyes to adjust to the darkness outside. I couldn't see any one/thing. So I looked down at my project and started trying to work again. And then a very loud tap, 3 times. It was actually closer to a knock. I froze. I planned out my escape in about 15 seconds. I jumped up, turned the light off and ran to my mom's room. I sat there by the phone and waited, listening. Nothing. Very scary. Just recently, after having thought of everything in the home, I realized it may have been something "inside" the house instead of something "outside".
When I was 17 I had filled out an application for a job. I was still in High School, but thought it might be a good idea to make some money. I filled out the application and placed it on a side table in my living room. My mom had also written a note for my senior yearbook. I placed the note with some pictures on top of the application. The day that the note was due for the yearbook, I went to get it off the table and couldn't find it. I checked on, in, and around the table. The job application was on orange paper so it would be easy to spot. I searched everywhere in the house. I mean everywhere! My brother was still at college, so he didn't move it. To this day my mom says she didn't move it. I continued looking for several days. I finally gave up. The deadline for the yearbook entry had passed and I didn't even want the job anymore.
I was walking through the house one day when I looked over at the side table and saw a familiar orange paper. I walked over, picked up the pile and, sure enough, it was the application with the yearbook note and pictures. Sitting right where I had looked several times over the past couple weeks.
We had a major rodent problem in the house. We had mice and rats. Yes, rats. They were huge. I remember trying to go to sleep at night and I would feel tugging on my covers. It was rhythmic. I mentioned the rats because I always thought it was a rat trying to climb on my bed or just nibbling on the covers. I didn't want to know, so I never turned the light on. I absolutely didn't want to see a rat on my covers. I would've never slept in that room again. I used to bang my head on my pillow. Strange, I know. I would basically hit my forehead on my pillow. It was something I did when I was a baby and it was a habit until I met my husband. Every time I would feel the tugging, I would picture a rat trying to get up on the bed and I would start banging my head as hard as possible. I'm sure I was shaking the bed like crazy. The tugging would continue for a little while, then it would stop. It happened several times while I was living in the house.
About a month ago I was telling my coworker about it and he actually said, "No, that's a child." I just looked at him. He said, "Yea, that was probably a child." I never thought of that before. It makes sense, though. If a rat were actually trying to climb up, it would have run off as soon as the bed moved from my head banging. But the tugging always continued through my banging. Also, there was never any sound. I think a rat would have made a sound if it were in my room. It was completely quiet. Maybe it was a child trying to get my attention. If it were a child, maybe he or she was the one tapping on the door...
The last thing I remember is my brother's room. Nothing actually happened in the room, it just felt bad. The room had originally been a garage. It was converted to a bedroom before my mom moved into the house. My brother never wanted to sleep in there. He would regularly sleep in the living room on the couch. I remember never wanting to go in there either. It had a really large closet. Easy for someone to hide in. As I said earlier, my biggest fear was that someone would break into the house. I thought someone would break in and hide in that closet waiting for me.
Only recently did I think about the possibility that there was something negative in there. It was frightening really. I would never go in there unless I was looking for something. I would go in quickly, try to find what I was looking for, and run out. Now that I think about it, I remember having this feeling of mounting fear. It would steadily increase the longer I was in there and would be gone when I exited the room.
It's amazing how all this happened and I never thought of it as paranormal. I never even considered it. When you add it all up, it's hard to discount.