What is it with basements? I have decided maybe the best way to tell all that happened to me in my parent's house when I was a teen, was to take the house level by level since I experienced something on every single level of that house. The first story I wrote talked about the voices I heard and my very first experience in that house. I am going to tell about all the things that I remember happening in that basement.
First of all, when I came home from school that day and heard the voices that wasn't the only time I heard voices from the basement. There were more times. It got to a point where if I had to go to the basement for anything I would mentally prep myself. If I was home alone, I might start by turning on the light at the top of the stairs and yell, "I'm coming down now!" Then, I'd start down the stairs and while I was going think of some song to sing at almost the top of my lungs or I'd hum very loudly. I had started doing this because of the voices. When I did this, I heard them less. As far as I know, no one else in my family heard the voices. However, my brother and sister are both hearing impaired so they wouldn't have noticed anyway. My mom only went downstairs to do laundry, and she never mentioned anything, but once told me she wasn't much of a believer in ghosts. She said she believed in them some but certainly not in our house. My dad did have an experience I will include later in this story also.
We had a little dog when I lived there. We had her ever since she had been a puppy. She was supposed to be my dog, but she attached herself more to my dad. If my dad was not home she was happy to follow me around. We called her Weenie. Weenie didn't like the basement. In fact, I go so far as to say that I think Weenie was scared of the basement. If I went to the basement, Weenie stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at me. She would put her tail in between her legs, and put her head down as she stared into the basement. She'd wait until I came back upstairs and follow me around some more. There were a few times I picked Weenie up and carried her down the stairs with me. These might have been times that I needed extra courage. Weenie's body would stiffen up as we went down the stairs and as soon as I put her down, her tail would go between her legs and she'd head for the stairs to go up. I can remember her turning around to look at me a few times as she'd be running away. As soon as she got up the stairs, she'd stand there- tail between legs, head down, staring into the basement. It was kind of creepy. I never understood why she didn't want to be down there.
My dad had experience with Weenie acting strangely in the basement too. My dad was disabled from an accident working for the railroad and so he was home a lot. He would go downstairs and put wood in the wood stove or do some laundry. He talked about how Weenie wouldn't go downstairs with him either, and how when he put her down she'd run upstairs with her tail between her legs. He talked about how she shook. I never noticed shaking the few times I took her down. He said he'd call her and ask her what was wrong, but she'd only stand with her tail between her legs, head down, and refuse to come downstairs. Weenie didn't like the upstairs either and I am sure she will be mentioned when I discuss my numerous experiences there. He was telling me one time about how he was putting wood in the wood stove (it was so cold down there all the time), and he spun around with the poker in his hand because he swore someone was behind him. I don't consider this part of the voices, but maybe I should because he told me another time when he was in the basement he swore someone came in the house because he heard his name be called. He said he figured it was our neighbor across the road (it was a rural area, but we had a neighbor kind of across the road), and he yelled, "Yeah Lyle, I'm down here in the basement." He said he quickly finished throwing the wood in, and headed up the stairs talking the whole time only to find no one upstairs.
This is the scariest experience I had in the basement, technically I wasn't in the basement, but it involved the basement. I thought it was my mom at first. I was on the phone with a friend, and I was in the kitchen. It was night because I remember it was dark. There was light on in the living room but not the dining room or kitchen. I heard footsteps from the basement coming up the stairs, hit the top and go back down the stairs. I thought it was my mom doing laundry. I heard her go back down the stairs, and start back up. About this time I noticed the light wasn't on going down the stairs. That didn't make sense. Whatever it was hit the top step, and started back down. About that time I knew for certain it wasn't my mom and she wouldn't have come up dark steps anyway. I bent backward so I could look in the living room, and realize the entire family is in the living room watching TV. Whatever was in the basement had hit the bottom and was started back up to the top. I remember walking backward from the kitchen area, but making sure I could see the entrance where something would come from the basement. I hear whatever, hit the top step again and start back down. I went and sat at the dining room table and twisted myself so I could see the step. I stopped hearing it at that point and time, and never did see anything. Putting it down, it doesn't seem so scary, but at the time it certainly was. The steps still bother me but perhaps that's because the steps going upstairs are another story I will share when I tell about what happened in the upstairs of that home. I wish I had the courage to have turned on the lights and went and looked to see what was there, but like with most things in the basement there probably would have been nothing to see.