Today seemed much like an ordinary evening, as I sat on the front step over-looking the desolate street, which I faced for the past two hours. My thoughts rambled across my mind about how many years our father had lived in this two-bedroom old Victorian farmhouse that was built sometime in the mid 19th century. After 10PM I decided to get off the stairs and opened up the front door to escape the cool autumn air, which suddenly came up with the northerly wind. I decided to watch a little television before retiring to bed. About 20 minutes later I shut the TV off to proceed into my bedroom. Being in this old house for over 15 years, your mind keeps running at the thought of seeing shadows or noises that glide across your imagination especially during the wee small hours.
Just as I drifted off into a calm sleep, I heard a massive “crash!” that re-sounded from the basement, which made me jump out of my wits, and made me sit up right on my bed gasping for reassurance. Slowly, I got up and grabbed my housecoat, which hung on my three-drawer dresser and proceeded towards the bedroom door, which was shut as I dozed off to sleep earlier. Opening the door with a creaky hiss, I found my way cautiously down the hallway, which led me towards the basement door. Partly paralysed with fear, one part of me did not want to open the door. But the more rational side made me wanted to investigate the matter. I started to walk down the cold stairs a little shaken on what I was going to find. Thinking for the longest time, it might be an intruder that had broken into a basement window below. I forced my legs to lead me down the rest of the stairs.
At first, everything seemed normal and I took one last look around the entire basement memorizing each area half asleep. I felt a lot calmer now with what I saw and the windows were all locked up tightly for my security. I was just about to turn around and walk back up the stairs and I heard another noise, but quieter at the end of the basement. I strained to take a harder look and noticed a darkish yet transparent shadow that was running along the side of the wall near the furnace watching me intently. I could not believe my eyes, as I had to take another hard glance to make sure I was seeing what was in the corner of the basement. Before I could react, I gasped to grab my breath and bolted right up the stairs as quick as I could to prevent any more hysterics. I was half way up the stairs and I could feel my legs giving starting to give way but with all my power, I managed to get to the third last step before the second level. Then, I felt it. Something cold and clammy grabbed my right ankle, which caused me to scream like mad, and I tried to precede to the last few steps but whatever it was, had a strong hold of my leg and I couldn’t go any further. I fainted on the final step which by early morning, my oldest sister found me there completely stunned on what happened to me the previous night. Later on that afternoon, it took some time to gather my thoughts and I had the strength to tell Marion what I experienced the evening before. On a sceptical view, she thought it over and said while giving me the supportive comforting look ” are you sure this happened last night? You didn’t just faint?” I told her right away defending myself “No! I heard something in the basement and then when I was about to walk back up stairs, something grabbed my leg… it was awful!” We didn’t discuss it anymore since I assumed she thought I was absolutely nuts, for even considering about telling her.
Marion decided to leave shortly after and I don’t know what probed me to investigate this problem further, but some strong determination made me go back down stairs to inspect this troublesome nightmare. I shakily proceeded down the stairs with the lights on this time (no flash light) and a unusual pulling feeling came over me .I became quite nervous but this sense of uneasiness made me continue to find out why this unknown phenomenon wanted to contact me the way it did. I poked around the basement quarters for over 10 minutes and didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, until the feeling I had earlier had drew me to the furnace door, which resided on the far corner of the wall. With all my strength, I took in a deep breath opened the door and found a large chunk of long concrete that was split in sections on the floor and it made me cringe. I could not look any further because I noticed there was a lump underneath the slab of cement and I knew it was a burial area from a person who lived in the house before our father did. Our dad didn’t investigate this certain part of the basement and honestly, he did not want to know. The next day, I contacted the Historical & Archaeological Society and they came down with their materials to inspect the interesting burial plot I acclaimed to them earlier. They brought up the remains to pre-date them and found out that the owner, who had the house in the late 1890’s, had lived there for over 30 years. He ended up committed suicide in the house, after his wife and twelve year old child died in a farming accident. When I heard the agonizing story, it just made me feel sick to my stomach on how long this haunting was going on before our dad even took residence here. The two Archaeologists took the remains and then told me they’d have a burial for them at the nearest Cemetery. Ever since that terrible day, I still get the feeling I’m being watched. Not only in my bedroom but also all over the house particularly the basement. I sometimes had second thoughts on bringing those scientists to our dad’s old house. I somehow consecrated the ground and the haunting activities have gotten worse. I’ve even had a Priest come in and bless the house but I still have strong experiences. That in turn ranges from, plates flying out of the cupboard, footsteps resounding down the hall way, into my bedroom and the television and lamps turn on and off by itself. I hope one day I can find the solution on how to quiet this spirit. It will never rest and I unfortunately cannot either.
