A couple of years ago I posted a story of some experiences that happened to me. This is an extension of those experiences while living in that same house. Since then, I have moved out of that house and moved into the house next door. (I should mention that both these houses are on the same lot which my parents have owned since the early 70's.)
So to recap my previous story, I was newly married and pregnant and had moved into the back house of the lot. Shortly after moving in. The closet door would open in the middle of the night, and one time while I was home alone, "something" banged on the closet door. Nothing seemed to happen for a couple of years after that.
Since moving out I have come to terms that there were some things that I was trying to explain away while living there. I'm also writing about things that happened after I wrote my last story, and experiences that happened to my husband that he didn't want to mention to me while living in that house since I was often home alone at night while he either worked late or overnight. I'm going to try to write them in chronological order.
After the last experience with "something" banging on the closet door, things around the house had been calm for a few years. Then I started noticing that things would seem to disappear or go missing whenever I would walk out of a room. This happened about twice a week. When I would come back in a room, either my cell phone, keys, or remote control would not be in the same place I had left it. I would look for them for hours. Sometimes I would find it hours later under the couch (after I had looked under there several times), sometimes in another room, one time I found my cell phone in my dresser drawer.
At the time I thought maybe it was either that I was starting to get early onset dementia (not the case lol), or that my nonverbal autistic son was hiding these items when I left the room. My son was about 4 at the time, and not able to communicate to me if I were to ask him where my cell phone was at. Anyway, as soon as we moved out of that house the cell phone and keys has stopped disappearing.
Another time I was home while my husband was at work and my oldest son at school. By this time I had had my second son, who was about 1 year old at the time. I was getting my purse and his diaper bag together to go out and run an errand. My son entertained himself by taking out about 30 DVDs that we had in the TV stand, and strewn them all over the living room floor. I decided I would leave them on the floor and put them away when we returned from my errand. When I arrived home about an hour later, all the DVDs that were on the floor had been put away were they belonged.
This next occurrence had really unnerved me. At the time my oldest was six years old. As I mentioned, he is autistic with a very limited vocabulary, so he receives behavioral therapy at our home during the week after school. It was a typical day for me, my husband was at work, and my parents had taken my youngest to the park while I was home with my son and his behavioral therapist (Jasmine), who is the sweetest girl. I had come to grow very fond of her. She was a good, Christian girl who was working towards her Masters in special education.
I can't recall what led up to this, but my son became very agitated and wanted to lock himself in the restroom. Jasmine and I were trying to coax him out of the restroom. He was very upset, crying, and was trying to lock us out. This behavior was not like my son, he was typically always happy, and for him to just get upset out of nowhere was strange. Even more distressing was that he couldn't communicate why he was behaving like this. Me and Jasmine couldn't understand why he was behaving like this, but I decided we should leave the house and take him out for a drive.
I went to the living room and grabbed my keys and put them in my purse. I put my purse on top of the couch, while I went to the back of the house where the restroom was and helped Jasmine bring my son out. When we walked into the living room, my purse was gone. I looked on the couch, under the couch, beside the couch, and behind the couch! No purse! I was telling Jasmine that it was just on the couch a moment ago. She helped me look. There was an end table next to the couch that was flush up against the couch, and it wasn't near there, under there, nor behind there. We looked, and looked! We looked EVERYWHERE, for two hours!
Jasmine then asked if I would be open to saying a small prayer. I said yes, why not. At this point we had been looking in the kitchen. So that's where we held hands and she said her prayer. I don't know why, but once she was done, I walked straight from the kitchen to the end table by the couch in the living room. RIGHT THERE WAS MY PURSE NEXT TO THE END TABLE! I didn't know what to think.
I was becoming more and more uncomfortable in the house. I also had started having trouble sleeping at night. I would wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to sleep until the sun came up in the morning. Some nights I would have nightmares. At the time I did not attribute this to the house. It happened almost every night, and stopped when I moved out.
On one instance, my husband had gone to the grocery store. Usually when he returned from the store he would enter through the back door, which led into a hallway, past the back bedroom, then a restroom, and a second restroom across from the first with the shower, and then into the kitchen. The house was L shaped, so at this point the from the kitchen you would make a 90 degree turn and walk into our bedroom and then the living room (I never liked the setup of the house, but of course had to live with it).
Well, anyway I heard him enter through the back door and walk into the hallway and make his way to the kitchen. I even heard the rustling of the plastic grocery bags. I was in the living room at the time waiting for him to enter. He never did. I walked into the kitchen and no one was there. He had not yet arrived from the store.
On various occasions whenever my husband was home and would walk into another room, he would always walk back into the room I was in, saying, "What? Did you just call me?", I would respond,"Uhhm, no honey, what do you mean?". He would say he just heard me call his name. Which I didn't. This happened a few times a month. I was starting to get concerned when it continued happening. I thought at the time that maybe he had hearing problems, and contemplated making him a doctors appointment.
After we moved out of the house he told me he always heard someone call his name at that house. He said he didn't want to tell me at the time, but late at night when everyone was asleep and he was taking his shower (he liked taking his shower very late at night after coming home from work), that he would walk out into the hallway after his shower, and he would hear someone call his name. I asked him if it sounded like a man or a woman, and he said it sounded like my voice, but he knew that I was asleep at the time. This happened various times. And again since moving out of the house, he no longer comes into the room thinking I've called his name.
So let me conclude to where I'm moving out of the house. On the days while we are packing and moving out, I felt I had to tell this "ghost" that he should "move on". I was always scared to actually interact with it before this, but I thought now was the time. So I said something to the effect of, "Look, Mr. Or Mrs. Ghost. I don't know if you're a man or a woman, or what exactly happened to you while you were living that has made you not be able to move on. But you need to find peace, and move on. I'm sorry for whatever might have happened to you, but you can no longer stay here. You need to move on, go to the white light." (Am I being cheesy lol? I felt I had to tell "it" to move on. More so for the sake of the people who were going to move in next.)
Anyway, within days of moving to the new house, which is literally 15 ft away, I started noticing little things happening at the new house; something knocked on the window of my bedroom, I looked out and didn't see anybody (by the way, I can see the front of the back house from this window), my scrunchy went missing and reappeared an hour later (I should mention that everything was still in boxes at this point, and there was only the bed and the living room couches in the house that day. So it was hard for me to believe it got "lost"), and when I walked from the living room into the kitchen to get some water one time, the remote control went missing. I looked in the living room, and in the kitchen for it. It wasn't there. I thought, Oh no not this again!
I spoke to it again and said basically the same thing as before. I'm sorry for what may have happened to it, but it cannot stay here. Please leave, and move on. After I said that, I looked again in the kitchen and there was the remote control on the kitchen counter. It's been a little over a year since I moved and no occurrences have happened since.
I'm still not sure what to think, but I'm glad it's over with. My husband has since told me that when he was alone in the house he would hear footsteps in the kitchen, kitchen cabinet doors opening, he saw shadows late at night, and one time heard the toilet flush by itself.
I'm sorry if this story is rather long, but thank you for reading this and allowing me to share it with you. These experiences has led me to a lot of confusion, fear, and questions about the paranormal. Like where did my items and purse go when they "disappeared"? How could my husband hear a voice that sounded just like mine? Why did it stop and then start up again, but with a lot more occurrences? Why did it want to move to the house next door, when I moved? And what happened that had my son so upset that one day? Honestly, I hate to think about that one. The fact that it could have had anything to do with the house bothers me to no end, and I don't like to think about it.
Again, thank you for reading my story. I'd like to hear about any theories you may have about my questions and experiences.