We live in a house that was built in the 1940s. At this point, the house should probably be abandoned…. The floorboards creak, the paint comes off the walls, the ceiling looks like it’s sagging, and the foundation is faltering. This house should have been a good starter home for me and my husband, but we are finding that time was simply unkind to this place. On top of the problems we have incurred, there is something here that shows its unending hate for our presence. A presence that, when left alone, makes me feel as though I will lose my mind.
It started innocently enough. Items would go missing. Doors handles would rattle. Sometimes there would be a random “thunk”. Almost as if the repairs we were making to the house were being acknowledged. One night, the house seemed to take on a whole new life.
As my husband and I lay in bed watching TV, we heard some footsteps. Alarmed, my husband gathered his courage to scope the house alongside our dog. He came back and shook his head, indicating there was nothing. As he closed the bedroom door (something we have always done), he sat on the bed readying himself to settle in. Suddenly, a massive THUD hits our bedroom door. Startled, we both jumped clear out of bed, our dog barking wildly. We looked at one another and decided to get the door open as quickly as possible to catch an intruder. Alas, nothing. Our dog bolts out the door, wildly running toward the backdoor. No other door is open. The windows are secure. Nothing is even remotely out of place…
Before we moved in, this picture was sent to me by my mom. She had no awareness of the black figure in the corner (it wasn't there when she took the picture)…. Don’t worry though, we’ve painted and redecorated that room since then…. Not that it helped...
- Heather Denomme
February 2020