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The Attic Rooms

By LynxKatt73
(1 stories) (8 posts) (the author is a middle age adult)
Date: 2015-10-21
Country: United Kingdom
Paranormal Category: Haunted Places

First of all thank you for letting me join your website. I really hope that I can contribute here in a positive way. Though a little rusty at writing, I will try my best to explain to you what my family and I experienced in this home. And with any luck other experiences we had later on for you all,

We did have quite a few experiences in various homes.

This one still to this day has me wondering exactly what was going on in the attic.

In 1988, I was 15 years old living at home with my dad Paul, mam Jeanette and two brothers Adrian (then 12) and Jamie (then nearly 10). My Grandma (Mam's Mam Colleen) decided to come live with us as Pa (Roger) had died a few months previous and she didn't like living alone. We were happy to have her live with us but the lack of room ment after 6 months my parents went looking for a bigger home to fit us all.

The found the home in Woking,Surrey. It had been built in around 1900. Over 3 floors (with attic) and a seperate garage and a couple of outbuildings for us kids to explore. It needed work but my parents and Gran were happy to do the work as it was liveable and just needed a general tidy up. Repaying and rewire for safety.

We moved in just after Easter 1988. My parents put Gran on the ground floor guest room. They were on the 1st floor and us kids had our own rooms on the second floor. We were all excited to have our own space. Even room to have friends stay over if we wanted with a spare room we put 2 single beds in.

We were living there happily for two or three months when Mam asked Dad at breakfast if he could put some boxes up in attic of stuff she didn't need around the house. Reluctantly he agrees as none of us had so far given the attic more than a passing look when we first moved in. It was filthy with inches of dust on the floor. A couple of old cupboards and a bed drone with wire spring base by itself with no mattress,

Gran and Mam thought the room was probably a former maid or nanny room as the house was the right age when the help of the house was often housed in the attic.

We had heard not a peep until Dad took those boxes up to the room. Oh boy was there problems. But it didn't start until that night after we had all gone to bed. I was fast asleep when a banging on my door woke me up. I got up to see my two brothers there with their torch looking for all the world like they were scared silly.

I brought them in and was about to ask what was wrong when I heard a giant bang like a heavy box or something had been dropped on the floor of the attic. Startled I looked at them like what the hell.

Jailed said "You hear it too. What's going on?"

I said "Don't worry it's probably Dad moving more stuff around in the attic "

"At this time of the night?" Adrian shook his head "not when he has to get up early for work".

We sat a few minutes wondering what to do when all of a sudden it sounded like everything in the attic sounded like it was being thrown around the room at the same time. That was it. My brothers and I ran down to our parents room. And woke them up. We'll kind of they were half awake hearing the noise. Dad said he was about to come up and tell us off for making so much noise when he saw us run into their room with the noise still going on.

Same whirlwind of bangs and thumps brought Gran to see what was going on just a minute or two later (it had to be loud she had little hearing left at that time). We all looked up at the ceiling as it sounded like someone had picked up the old bed up there and thrown it across the room.

Mum begged Dad to go and look and see what was going on. To scared to go alone we all grabbed out flashlights or candles and Dad his cricket bat and reluctantly followed him up the stairs. Soon as we hit the stairs leading to the attic. The noises suddenly stopped like instantly. Back down a few steps to check out what was going on and it started up again. So we climbed to the top of the flight of the stairs.

Dad swore loudly as he suddenly tripped over a pile of boxes. Mam saw them and asked Dad why he hadn't put them in the attic like she asked. Dad swore black and blue he had and had locked the attic door behind him.

Mam suggested to put the boxes in the spare room for the night as she had gone suddenly pale when Dad who promised her he'd placed the boxes in the attic wasn't fooling around.

Once the boxes were in the spare room down on the kids level there was no noise for the rest of the night. And we got a sound sleep.

The next night when Dad came home from work he and Mam talked it over, if someone had moved the boxes they'd know when they looked in the attic due to the thick layer of dust on everything. As Dad was still sure someone was playing games with him. I don't know why.

Dad grabbed the attic keys and we all followed him back up the attic stairs and watched as he unlocked and pulled the door towards himself to open. We all peered inside. None of the dust except a tiny spot just inside the door where Dad had put the boxes had been disturbed at all. Dad had just opened the door and had dropped the boxes in and hadn't walked around.

There was no other signs anything had been there or that anything had been moved. There was no sign that anything could have been there to make those violently loud noises the night before.

We couldn't understand it.

The next night we tried again for experiment sake to put the boxes back in the room. Again the noises kept up until the boxes were moved downstairs. With always no signs of movement in the dusty room. Dad had enough and banned anyone using the attic to store things. Later he bricked up the enterence to the attic when my brother dared venture up the stairs and something he couldn't see tried to push him back down the stairs!

We lived in the house for 2 further years until Gran died and we moved to Birmingham for Dad's work. That house never felt very welcoming. We were glad to eventually be able to afford to move out.

We still have no idea what was in the attic. Whatever it was it didn't like us disturbing its place of residence.

Frankly even now given my knowledge of ghosts. I'd still not want to go up there to find out just what was so angry. It still frightens the hell out of me.

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Comments about this paranormal experience

The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by yourghoststories.com. Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, LynxKatt73, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion.

skeptic_1960 (7 posts)

8 years ago (2015-11-02)

Really enjoyed reading your story, thanks for sharing it.
Thanks Again,
Skeptic_1960

LynxKatt73 (1 stories) (8 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-31)

Biblio,
Hey it's ok. I'd rather you ask and I answer where I can and hopefully be of help to you rather than leave you thinking it's some silly tale. I will do what I can to help with your interest in my story.

1/ It was about 2 weeks after the initial incident that dad bricked up the attic as he had to get the bricks and the stuff to make the mortar. His brother my uncle Nathan helped him lug all the nessesary gear up the stairs with them I remember that much. Uncle Nathan was a bricklayer and I think he may have helped dad get the products for building the wall. Dad was a long distance Truck Driver and some time mechanic.
2/ My family and I were only guessing that the ghost was a she and that's why we regularly called it her but I don't know that's why I say she or he/she as I really have no idea having never seen any physical appearance of what ever was in the attic your guess is as good as mine at the sex of the spirit. And your right families did hire help that were of both that's why I am unsure mostly say she because I think the feeling from the spirit was that it was more feminine so was called she. I could be wrong though.
3/ Dad never told us if he had any other experiences in that house but I think he may have as he didn't always like being in the house alone for long when the rest of Us were out. He was closed on the subject and refused to talk to me about it. I've asked mam if he said anything to her but she says she can't remember these days as it has been a while and she is sadly starting to show signs of altzimers disease and sadly sometimes even forgets us family members. I've asked my brothers and they seem to think as I do that both our parents did experience other things but kept it quiet for reasons that they didn't want us to get frightened and that they maybe weren't quite sure what to do about the situation.
Gran I know wouldn't go to certain parts of the house alone or be there by herself for any real long peice of time. I think something scared her bad too. But again she dispite prodding on the subject when alive wouldn't say anymore then the place gave her the creeps. And she was a strong woman.
4/ My dad was very old fashioned and what he said went if he decided on something being done he thought would protect us from the spirit he would do it without consulting mam. He had ruled the house with a iron hand when growing up with him I learned not to ask a lot of why he decided to do things the way he did as he often had no worries of giving me a clip over the ear as he put it if I got too big for my boots as he said. He wasn't cruel or abusive actually quiet the opposite he just felt as head of the house it was his job to keep us safe and happy. And he did what he thought was the best way to go about making our lives that way.
5/ My family aren't greatly religious. I believe in God but my parents were very closed on the subject growing up. Dad would have never agreed to have a priest or similar bless the house. Mam apparently wanted to give it a try and my dad said if any church person turned up to bless the house he'd be very annoyed so it wasn't done. I think it should have been tried it may have made a big difference. But what dad says goes and nothing came of it.

I was glad in many ways when we moved out to go to Birmingham as the place was starting to rattle my nerves for reasons I still can't fully understand other than my mind just was being mixed about by whatever was in that place. That's the only way I can think to put it. The place still makes me feel scared now rethinking our time there. Maybe I've blocked things out? I don't know and that's what scares me more.

Yeah good old Maggie Thatcher. I actually used to like her as did mam and gran. Dad hated her as she made it hard for distance truckers like himself to often get fair pay and rights for a while on and off. But I admired her strength.
And I have many fond memories and many scary ghost encounters in Brummie too. I will try to post some soon.

Thanks for reading.
Blessings and kind regards.
LynxKatt73

Bibliothecarius (9 stories) (1091 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-31)

Lynx:

Thanks for your serious review of details in your quick response. Sometimes, when I have a lot of questions, it can seem like I'm attacking the storyteller!

Your initial responses to other comments echoes a thought I had when reading your story: though you include both genders, you prioritize the feminine each time: "she/he." I had the initial reaction that the responsible entity was feminine, even though both men and women were employed as live-in help when the house was built.

[No, I'm not thinking of Highclere Castle (Downton Abbey); even modest homes for the well-to-do employed domestic staff. Along with my paternal grandfather's employment as a 20h-century chauffeur, I'm descended from a Head Gardener, maids, and several cleaning ladies on my mother's side].

Your father's bricking up the entry to the attic is still nagging at me. Was he the type of adult who uses children's behaviour as a pretext for accomplishing a task he'd intended to perform anyway? How soon after your brother's activities did your dad brick up the door? Was it, to your recollection: almost immediately, like he'd already got the supplies; pretty quickly, like he'd been setting aside the necessary funds* to pay for it; or was he the sort of dad who'd state his plan, then get around to it "soon"? If it is either of the first two options I listed, I'd suspect that he'd had additional experiences -such as when he may have been home alone, or when having recurring nightmares- which he did not share with everyone else. As his actions were a surprise to your mother, she was not privy to the extent of his plan, nor given the opportunity to veto his modification of the house. Bricking up a doorway seems more like ignoring a problem than dealing with it. Even skeptical individuals, when confronted with supernatural hostility, briefly will consider asking a minister to bless the home, if not to perform an exorcism.

I enjoyed your narrative, and thanks again for responding to my questions.
-Biblio.

*Being from the Midlands, I have some rather stark memories of the economic upheaval of Mrs. Thatcher's Britain on the nightly news; I'm sure your Birmingham recollections reflect this, also.

LynxKatt73 (1 stories) (8 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-31)

Biblio,
Thankyou for your comments and I will try my best to help answer your questions.
1/ We call her both mum and mam she answers to either equally. Most of it though on here was caused by spellcheck changes which I didn't notice until the story was published. My appologies.
2/ Sorry I can't remember why I used both flashlight and torch words in the story. My mind was just trying to get the story out. I can't think why I'd put both other than I've been watching to much TV from the USA and their words are getting stuck in my head...lol.
3/ I have to say I often wondered myself why dad bricked it up even my mam got confused to ask why. He just said it made him feel safer. He wasn't usually easy to scare but that thing in the attic sure did. Luckily we had no roof or attic problems in our time there. My thought exactly was how were they going to fix any hassles but being a teen I had no say in the house at the time. Dad has since passed and sadly I can no longer try to get answers from him on the subject although I wish I could.

RedWolfe,
Thankyou too and I agree.
That's why when living there I made sure I stayed well away from the attic stairs.

Seraphina,
Thankyou kindly also.
No sadly I never got a chance to ask the neighbours about the house we lived in then. I'm kicking myself now wishing I had. Hindsight is annoying isn't it.
I remember my Gran tried asking a old lady who then lived across the road when we lived there about the house. And Gran was told to mind her buisness even after she told the lady it was her buisness as she was living in it the old lady across the road refused to say anything to her about the house and apparently the old woman had lived there for years. If anyone could have known something she probably did but wasn't saying.
I don't know if anyone else was approached or not my parents never told us.

Spockie,
You a trekky?
Thankyou to and I agree it does seem weird that ghosts are always in attics or basements... Crazy that's for sure I agree. I'm glad she/he was only there though. I'm not sure I would have been to happy living there if they had been haunting anywhere else in the house.

Caz,
Thankyou for your kind welcome. Again I agree fully. I just hope she/ he isn't bothering people to much anymore now but I'm not silly enough to go back and check!
Glad you liked the story and I will try to post some more soon when works not so busy. And I have some free time.

Kind Regards to you all,
LynxKatt73

Bibliothecarius (9 stories) (1091 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-31)

Greetings, Lynx.

While most of your narrative is perfectly comprehensible, there are a couple of points where your diction is oddly inconsistent. I also have a question about the ending to your story. I'm not trying to nitpick your story to death, I'm genuinely curious:

1) Your brothers had their torch -understandable- when they woke you, but later you use the American term "flashlights." After WWII, American soldiers who'd used them for nocturnal signalling called them "flashlights," hence their alternate name, whereas Brits used them as "electric torches" because they produced a steady light and were more reliable than candles. Why did you switch from the British nomenclature?

2) You refer to your mother, Jeanette, as "Mam" and as "Mum" alternately. My mother is "Mum" to me and to my brother; her mother was always "Mam" to her and her two brothers. While my mother used the word "mum" when referring to herself or when speaking about maternal relationships in general (e.g.: "I want my mum!" in a crisis; "is your mum or dad at home?" on the telephone), she only uses "Mam" in conversations about her deceased mother. May I ask why you alternate nouns?

3) Why did your dad brick up the doorway? It does seem like a lot of effort when an electric drill and a few long screws through the doorframe should have prevented your brothers from 'trespassing' in the attic. When "something he couldn't see tried to push him back down the stairs," was so extreme a deterrent really necessary? Given the expense of bricks and mortar vs. A handful of 4" screws, wasn't your dad worried about any potential need for repair work in the attic, on the roof, etc? Was he planning to use a 3-storey ladder to enter the attic via a window, should the need arise? I don't understand the rationale behind his actions.

Thanks for clearing up these points, Lynx; when I'm reading, ideas like these nag away at my mind and distract me from the remainder of the events.

Take care,
-Biblio.

RedWolf (31 stories) (1292 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-31)

LynxKatt
Very interesting story. As Spockie said at least the spirit didn't venture into the house, although a bricked up door wouldn't have stopped the spirit if it wanted to. It sounds like this one just wanted to be left alone.
Regards
Red

Seraphina (7 stories) (147 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-30)

LynxKatt, I enjoyed reading your story! Did you ever learn anything about the house's former owners? ~Seraphina

Spockie (8 stories) (203 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-30)

I cannot for the life of me figure out why ghosts seem to like attics, basements and cellars so much, but apparently they do. Sounds like the one in your story was very territorial. At least it didn't venture out into the house and wreak havoc there.

Caz (342 posts)

8 years ago (2015-10-30)

Welcome to YGS! Good story and well written! It's quite obvious someone was still 'living' in the attic and wasn't happy about 'their space' being invaded! Can't wait to hear your other experiences! 😉

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