When I was 8 years old my mom and dad decided to move to a new neighborhood. Growing up in a strict Christian family meant I had many restrictions. I couldn't watch Harry Potter, go trick-or-treating, or listen to certain genres of music.
After we got all of our things moved into the house, my mother called up the pastor and his family to come bless our new home. The paranormal encounters didn't start off right away, but they did progress the longer we stayed in the home.
My first encounter happened when I went downstairs to get a drink out of the refrigerator. I left the lights off to avoid waking my parents. When I finally got to my room, I sat on the bed finishing the rest of my drink when my bedroom door slammed. I waited to see if the slam had waken my parents, but it didn't. I then just went on to sleep.
On school days my parents were still at work when I'd get home, so they made me my own house key. Usually I'd go in the house, start on homework, and watch cartoons until my parents got home, but that day when I got home unusual things happened. When I began to start on my homework, I jumped as I heard the sound of the TV blasting downstairs. I rushed downstairs to see if my dad had gotten home early, but he hadn't. Quickly, I searched for the remote which happened to be on the top of the TV, and I turned it off.
Frightened from the experience, I had told my dad what happened and he believed me when I told him I thought there was a ghost in the house. He contacted the landlord of the home to see if he had known the history of the home. The landlord told my dad that he didn't believe there were any physical ghosts in the home, but he did believe there were spirits.
According to the landlord, a couple had moved into the home a few years back. He said even though they looked as if they were ordinary people, they truly were not. On a daily basis, the couple would create "potions" (as he claimed) and concoctions to summon the dead. After the man had told us the history of the home, my dad decided not to tell my mom because my mom would flip. "God will protect us," he'd tell me.
All seemed normal after finding out the truth, but mild encounters happened occasionally like lights turning on and off and the occasional door slamming, but now that I knew, I wasn't as scared as before.
Everything changed once my mom had her first and last encounter. We were both in her bedroom laying on the bed watching TV. My mom had fell asleep beside me, but I was still awake. As my eyelids were beginning to close, the TV started blasting from the music channel. My mom had woke up yelling at me and we both began searching for the remote, which happened to appear on the top of the TV.
My mom didn't believe in ghosts or spirits, but she did believe in the voice we heard echo throughout the house calling out "help me."