As mentioned previously in several of my stories, I grew up in what I believed was a haunted house. Living there I did not know what it was like to be healthy. I was lucky to go through an entire week without falling mysteriously ill. Usually it was asthma attacks. I felt as though life was being sucked out of me. I was tired all the time.
Every night was spent lying awake and listening to "old house noises" like stairs creaking, doors being opened and closed, sounds of the cupboards creaking. Even the wind sounded like banshees wailing through the night. The feeling of being constantly watched, new bulbs bursting, pets refusing to enter certain areas of the house. The signs were all there.
Finally the time for me to leave drew near and I will admit I was relieved. I did leave with a heavy heart because I loved the area, I loved the people I grew up with, the cliffs where I would spend hours looking out at the cerulean sea, the boats anchored at the horizon, there was beauty everywhere but not in that house! The house I grew up in. I was attached to the place and I did love it but the fear I lived it goes beyond wordy descriptions.
I packed a few things, I gave away a bulk of my stuff. I did not want to carry anything from the old place to my new home. For the first time in my life I slept at night, an undisturbed sleep with nothing that went bump in the night. That was addictively blissful. Sadly, it didn't stop here.
I have gone back to that house and every time I passed by it felt as though the house was begging me to live there again. The house was torn down and there is a new construction in its place but the property is the same. It still has a forbidding, sinister air to it, I still get goosebumps when I dare to go close. The construction has remained incomplete because no one wanted to stay and work. Labourers complained about being slapped around at night and quit the work. Labourers came and went, and eight years later the house stands incomplete.
I still have a connection of some sort there. There have been several nights when I have been in a deep trance-like sleep and I have heard my name being whispered, images of the house floating in my head. I wake up in a cold sweat. Finally, I reached the end of my tether and I spoke to a psychic about it. He told me the house wants me back. It has to finish what it had started.
Now here's the scary part. He told me that had I lived there any longer I would not have survived. This was shocking to me because exactly three months before I left the old house I almost died (and it was not the first time). My lungs were on the verge of collapsing. I had a long asthma attack that lasted five months. When I told him this he said that would have surely been my end. He told me that the house wanted blood, my blood.
I sincerely hope that whoever lives there, lives in peace and leads a healthy happy life. Unfortunately no one has resided on that property for more than a few months. The part that has been complete has remained closed. As for me, I now lead a healthy life. Not a trace of asthma attacks. Nothing drastic has happened to me. Life is now absolutely normal. I can finally rest my head at night without lying awake in bed listening to creaks, footsteps, knocking on the door, murmurs, feelings of being watched. There's nothing extraordinary in my area and I daresay I don't miss any of it now. I can sleep with the light off though the darkness still freaks me out. I can now enjoy blissful uninterrupted sleep.
The house still calls my name but I am no longer listening!
(The history of the area (and I did do research) is that it was a burial ground of some sort. The area was a vantage point in the 18th century. There were gruesome murders. There is a cemetery not far from my old home (and more experiences to talk about). There is a lot of dark deeds that went unnoticed. There were a few murders in recent times as well. Auras that give a vicious vibe. When the sun goes down there will be lots of things that go bump in the night!)