If you have read my previous post, you will know that I used to live in an old fisherman's cottage, which I thought was haunted. My family moved from there in October 2002 from the beach to the town. It is in a housing estate, on a hill on the outside of the small town. It is about ten years old, with a front and back garden. You go through the front door; there is a living room to your left, the stairs to your right (with a bathroom underneath that is as creepy as sin at night) the kitchen/dining room is in front-with the entrance to the extension which contains a utility room, my old bedroom and an ensuite. If you go upstairs, there is the main bath, with my parents bedroom to your immediate left at the top of the stairs, then my brothers room (which is at the front of the house) and beside that my bedroom, which is also in the front of the house.
When we first moved in, we found glass scattered all over the carpets. My cousin told me that the house had once been a flat, which she had lived in with two or three other families. She said there was always trouble and shouting, she didn't say anything else. We listened with interest and started our new life in the house.
Things were quiet for a while, just odd noises and rustlings. But I put that down to new house noise. I was living downstairs at the time, enjoying the fact that I had my own bathroom and easy access to the kitchen. So I didn't really go outside of there at night. However there would be some nights that I would get freaked out because I thought I saw someone staring at me through the window-or our coal bunker would sound as though someone was going through it-even though it was locked. I ignored it. Although I hated the under stairs bathroom-I don't know why. Whether it was night or day-I would prefer to go into my own bedroom than use the one under the stairs, as there was a window from before the extension was built that they hadn't removed. I kept getting the feeling that I someone was watching me.
Then my grandmother came to stay, because it would be easier for her to be downstairs-I would go the upstairs bedroom. This meant having to use the main bathroom, and having to walk past the stairs and by the hallway. I do not know what is with me and hallways-I seem to have some irrational fear about them. It was so pitch black-and seemed like a well-and you would get the feeling that someone was there. In the end I used to leave my bedroom light on (as there were small windows above the doors) and RUN into the bathroom, while purposefully not looking. Sometimes my brothers door was open, and I'd walk by I'd see a figure sitting on his bed. However when I would look again he would be gone. I tried to convince myself that it was my imagination, but if I repeated the action-I wouldn't see it.
When my Nan moved in with us permanently I moved in upstairs. After a few months for some reason I woke up at 3 a.m. I wondered why I had woken up-then I heard it. Someone had rapped on my window. A thrill of terror ran through me. I switched on my bedside light, and sat up to make sure I was awake. I was on the first floor! How could there be someone knocking at my window. It happened a third time, too scared to look-I just switched on my radio so I couldn't hear it. I was too frightened to sleep, so I just began to read. But all the while I could feel someone watching me through the window above my door.
One evening I had a dream I would never forget. Normally my dreams are odd and distorted, things don't flow shall we say. But this time things were different, I was in the kitchen cooking when the phone on the wall beside the hall door began to ring. I put down what I was doing and ran over to the phone, and answered it. What I heard was absolutely terrifying, as I write this my eyes are welling up and I am shaking even though it's been about six years since. I heard screams, the screams of children; screams of agony, of pain and of terror. I felt sick, and tears rushed to my eyes. I slammed the phone down; horrified and scared beyond reason. I ran, I opened the door and went to run from the house. As I ran down the hallway, I could feel something gathering behind me, something dark and evil. I couldn't bring myself to look, I was too frightened. I didn't want to look. I knew I wouldn't get out of the house in time, so I ran into my living room and slammed the door shut. Just in time. I pushed the settee against it, just as the 'thing' tried turning the handle. It shook the door, but when it couldn't get it open it stopped. I stood there shaking; just then the screaming started up again-surrounding the room-twice as horrifying as before. Tears were streaming down my face and I sank to the floor because I knew I couldn't help them. I was screaming for it to stop, crying for help.
Thankfully my mother then woke me up; she said she had heard me sobbing and come in to see what was wrong with me. I was in a terrible state, and couldn't get back to sleep.
To this day I refuse to sleep in the sitting room, or sit in their after midnight by myself; I always have to make sure the door to the kitchen is closed at night as well. This is the only frightening incident in my house, as of yet. It still feels like home, I don't know what caused this... I would love to hear your opinions. I shared this with one of my neighbours, and she too is frightened of her hallway, living room area, and she has also had some weird experiences there. I have since found out that our housing estate was built on hanging grounds.