So I’ve talked about the spirits I saw when I lived there. Let me tell you about a story that comes from someone else, someone who didn’t know the house was haunted, not when they moved in anyway.
After we moved out, I couldn’t bear to sell the house. I still can’t. To this day I have an unnatural connection to it as if it’s my job to watch over them now. Weird, I know, add it to the list. But move out of the house for our peace of mind we did (that sounds a little Yoda-ish, sorry) and we decided rather than leave the house empty, we’d rent it out.
Our first renter was a friend of the family. Great couple with four kids. My husband was adamant that if we wanted to rent it out, we could NOT tell anyone it was haunted.
So we didn’t.
Until about two weeks into the rental when our friends stopped by and said “by the way, when were you going to tell us the house is haunted.” 👀
Aside from the in house music system turning on twice at 2 a.m. blaring the radio and scaring everyone, they had a very unique incident.
The husband and wife were in the master bedroom watching television when they heard extremely loud bumping and stomping from above them. Assuming their two teenage boys were rough housing or fighting, the father left the first floor master bedroom and went upstairs to the kids’ bedroom directly above them.
He stopped in the hall in front of the bedroom door and the two boys stopped wrestling and were each sitting on their twin beds staring at him. He proceeded to colorfully and loudly explain to them that it was bedtime and this horseplay was unacceptable for this time of night.
He insisted they turn out the lights and immediately go to bed.
Right about this point, the father heard his kids call his name from the first floor. He looked over Joe’s walkway railing (see earlier post for Joe reference) down into the family room to find his two sons sitting on the couch beneath blankets watching television.
They asked him why he was yelling. What was the problem? Most especially, what was he doing upstairs? He was too stunned to reply. He stepped to his left to peer back into his sons’ room, and the boys were gone.
The room was empty.
When we lived in the house, we encountered “the boys” under similar but different circumstances. For a year or two when my daughter was a young toddler, she would often put her hands over her ears in that room. If you asked her why she was doing that, she’d tell you the boys were fighting again and they say bad words.
At night the floor above my bed was always active with jumping and footsteps and pounding.
My gut tells me it isn’t actual fighting to harm, but more two teen boys working out an eternity of angst and boredom with each other. I think about them often, wondering if they prefer to be there or are stuck.
I had a women who said she was a medium walk through the house in the earlier years, and she felt the presence of two Native American boys. Could those be the boys in the room above my bedroom?