Joined: 27 September 2006
Joined: 27 September 2006
Joined: 27 September 2006
About 5 yeas ago, I was living in the Midwest in a house that was not necessarily on a farm but out a-ways from the city limits. And first I must tell you that the house did some strange stuff: lights would go on and off by themselves and so would the TV, and the T.V. would change channels on its own too. Things would be moved from where one last placed them. So one night at about 10 p.m. I went outside to feed the dog. I went out the service porch door and kept it open a crack.
While out there, my dog, a large German shepard, kept staring at the service porch door and whining, which was unusual for him to do. I finally looked in that direction and for a split second noticed a woman dressed in 1900 clothing standing there at the door. When I noticed her, she shut the door and disappeared. I was completely freaked out and went to the door. However, now the door was locked, so I went to the front door and accused everyone in the house who where all sitting in the front room watching TV of shutting and locking the door. They of course denied it. So I blew it off and went back outside to finish up with my dog, again leaving the service door a little ajar and unlocked and again the dog was staring and whining at the door. This time when I looked, a man in 1900 clothing was there and shut the door, and when I went to check it again, it was locked.
Accusing my family again of some sort of joke, they again assured me it was none of them and wouldn't do that to me. Later, after more lights and TV turned on and off my themselves and things would be moved, my aunt asked about the property and found out that someone had been murdered on that land and buried somewhere on the property.
by Ben Tombs
A couple of years ago, whilst on holiday from Melbourne, I was staying at my friend Dave's house in the Adelaide suburb of Kensington. At the time, he was living with a female flatmate named Joanne, whom I hadn't met. I arrived in Adelaide on a Saturday and Dave and I had a BBQ and some beers on Saturday night before calling it quits about midnight.
On the Sunday morning, I was using the bathroom (as you do first thing in the morning!). When I opened the door to leave, a girl in her mid-20s with brunette hair dressed in fashionable clothing was standing there, obviously waiting to use the bathroom. We exchanged "good mornings," and as our paths crossed, I thought I should introduce myself to her as she was obviously Joanne, Dave's flatmate. I did this and was rewarded with a smile as she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I thought it a bit odd that she didn't introduce herself, but put it down to more pressing needs in the bathroom!
I went into the kitchen where Dave was looking through the fridge. I told him that I had just met Joanne outside the bathroom and she seemed like a nice girl. Dave told me to stop being stupid as Joanne was in London on business and wouldn't be back for two weeks!
"Then who is the girl in the bathroom?" I asked. Dave said that there couldn't be a girl in the bathroom as we were the only two in the house.
We went back to the bathroom and could hear the shower running and a girl's voice singing softly to herself. The look on Dave's face told me that this was definitely not meant to be happening! As one we burst into the bathroom, which was completely empty, but the shower was going, the mirrors were fogged up and we could smell "Impulse" (a popular Australian women's deodorant). The rest of the house was also empty. I asked Dave if he had a photo of Joanne. He showed me one. A very attractive, but completely different blonde-haired girl!
Dave and I just stared at each other for a long time!
A week later, I was back in Melbourne and Dave e-mailed me. Joanne was back from England early because her cousin had been killed in a car smash the Saturday night that I was in Adelaide. He attached a photo of her from the paper – and sure enough, it was the girl I saw going into the bathroom!I went to Adelaide for the funeral... and to help Dave move out of the house.
Joined: 27 September 2006
Joined: 27 September 2006
by Brandie Pierce
My house was built in the early 1900s. I have a fascination with old homes and historic places, so when my fiance and I found this diamond in the rough, it was right up our alley! Of course the house was run down and needed a lot of work to be livable. We worked on the house for about a month before moving in. We had conflicting work schedules, so we would rarely be in the house together while renovation was taking place. Usually, it was just him alone or me and my five year old son at the time.
A number of unusual things have happened in the house that just can't be explained. There is a presence here. I refer to it as the lady of the house. And I believe possibly that there may be a child here too. I've nicknamed them Hazel and little Molly. The first of the strange happenings occurred when a friend of mine came over to help me hang border in the kitchen, pre-habitation. Her husband came with her and was keeping her two boys and mine entertained.
They were playing hide-and-go-seek in the dark house when Julie and I heard the boys screaming in the living room.We ran around through the dining room and into the living room to find the boys by the closet – a little half closet they were trying desperately to open. Julie's husband was yelling and pounding on the door from the inside. He couldn't get out. Julie ran over and started tugging on the door to free her husband and the door wouldn't budge. I reached out to open the door and it came open with the greatest of ease. It seemed that something was holding him captive in the closet.
The first thing that came to mind was a middle aged lady wagging her finger in disgust as if to say, Stop all the noise; I'm trying to sleep. I told my fiance this story the next day. He laughed it off and called me crazy. Until something happened to him. He was alone in the house at around six in the morning after work. He was putting in a new kitchen counter when the light in the kitchen went out. He went over to the light switch and flicked it off and on a few times with no success. He grew aggravated and yelled into the air, "You stupid piece of crap house!" as he walked back to the counter. Just then the basement door slammed and the light came back on! He left the house in a hurry!
My son and I were in our house by ourselves. He had lay down in the living room for a nap and I was painting the trim around a massive window above the kitchen sink. A few minutes later I heard the wood floors upstairs creaking in the hallway. Thinking my boy woke up and was messing with some heavy duty tools upstairs in one of the bedrooms, I climbed down from the ladder and went around to the living room and my heart sank! There was my boy sleeping on the floor where I left him. I could still hear the noise coming from the upstairs hallway, but there was no one there!
Despite the strange happenings, we moved in the following month. Since then the events have continued. My son is seven now and I still catch him talking to no one in his room. He insists that there is a little girl there that he plays with, and her name is Molly. Periodically, the kitchen cupboards are left ajar when I know that I've closed them all just minutes before. It's a pet peeve of mine!
And then there is the figure in the basement that seems to travel back and forth from the bar to the canning cellar about twice a month. A silleute of a heavy-set woman with an apron on and her hair pulled up into a bun. She never looks over, she just earnestly travels back and forth like she's on a mission. I don't feel threatened in the house, never have. I get the creeps sometimes, but that is all it amounts to. It seems to play tricks on any gentlemen in the house, flicking lights on and off, and gently calling out their names at night. When I first saw the figure in the basement, I was so scared that I ran up the basement steps leaving the lid to the washer open and running! I've grown used to it now. I just calmly leave the basement until the next morning and return to my duties. I would love some history on this house, or any info I can get.
Most of the events seem to center around the kitchen and cellar, which makes sense if this thing is a woman, since that's were women folk usually spend their time. Other than adjusting to some of the stranger things that happen here, we are perfectly happy here and don't plan on leaving for quite a long time!
My mother met my stepfather in 1993. From that moment on, I rarely saw my mother again. She had quickly agreed to move in to his place, and when I finally saw the property, I could understand why she loved it there. It was originally a stone lodge built by a wealthy shoe factory owner, and my stepfather had landscaped and added onto it making it one large estate on the top of a hill. Although I knew my mother liked it, I was more apprehensive about leaving our cozy townhouse to go live in a stone fortress out in the boondocks.
The day my mother moved in, I got the impression that something was as unhappy about the move as I was. A string of shattering events was to follow. Literally. Glasses in the cupboard shattered for no apparent reason. A glass shelf broke in the curio cabinet. As my mother was walking through the large stone living room, the glass globe from one of the chandeliers broke over her head. The whole place was as eerie as you could get. We had met the previous owner of the house while out antiquing one day. She then related to us the unfortunate events that surrounded the house and it's owners. One owner hung himself. A couple of different owners went bankrupt. One couple who owned the property died in a plane crash. Apparently, anyone who owned the house either became destitute or died. The house was either evil incarnate, or just a really bizarre money pit. My stepfather was no exception to the rule either. The house had taken it's toll on his health, his sanity, and his pocketbook, leaving him bankrupt and threatening to kill him.
While I lived there, I tried to stay in the newest part of the property. This is where the bedrooms and bathrooms were. I had every intention of rarely, if ever, setting foot into the old lodge part of the house which included the kitchen, dining room, and living room. On one particular summer's day, I awoke to the sound of a man and woman chattering away. It sounded like a regular morning talk program with the casual bantering between hosts. Although I couldn't pinpoint exactly where the voices were coming from, I made my rounds of the house looking for whatever radio had been left on. I checked the upper level where my room and the spare rooms were, I then checked the lower level with the master bedroom and both bathrooms. I checked the kitchen, dining room, living room, and even walked outside. Thinking that I had missed something, I called both my mother and stepfather to ask if either of them had left a radio on, or if they knew where the sounds were coming from. Absolutely nothing had been left on, or missed by me. As a matter of fact, it dawned on me that the only part of the house I could hear the sounds, were from my room. I went back to my bedroom and opened the window thinking that maybe atmospheric conditions were right, and I was hearing a conversation from neighbors. I leaned with my ear as close to the screen as possible and heard nothing from outside. However, the voices within the space of my little room continued on. Male and female... laughing and chattering away about who knows what. Disgusted, and completely freaked out, I decided to take myself to the kitchen. At that point, I had the strangest feeling as if something terrible had happened. It was a shock when I saw a police car heading up the driveway and pulling in front of the house. Within minutes, the front yard was swarming with police and canine units. I ran outside, fearing the worst and asked an officer what had happened. As it turns out, a couple of girls from the other side of the hill had gone missing. They had gone to get the morning paper and hours later, still hadn't returned. My stepfather's estate stretched way back into the woods and down the hill, so the police naturally selected our driveway to do the meet and greet with the canine unit.
A few hours later, the cops were packing it up and hitting the road. I asked one of the officers what had happened and he told me that the girls returned home... with the paper... and hadn't even realized they were gone so long. As he put it. "They thought they were gone 20 minutes". After everyone left, I headed back to my own realm of the weird and noticed that the chattering was gone. That was the first and last time I ever heard from the voices in my bedroom. I have no idea whether or not it had anything to do with the missing girls, but that day had been bizarre enough to make me consider moving out ASAP.
Odd things still happened in the house even after I moved out. It had gotten so bad that my mother convinced my stepfather to let the house revert back to the bank and just move back to her townhouse. A year later, they drove up to the old property again and found that it had deteriorated so bad, there was nothing left of the gardens and someone had pulled all the usable timber from the Tudor side of the property.
I personally think that the house enjoyed being depressing and foreboding.
Joined: 27 September 2006
Joined: 30 July 2007
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