May 2006 Page 17
and Sister Ghosts
When I was 14 and graduating middle school, my parents decided it was time to move out of our small three-bedroom ranch house. There were five of us, and as we three children grew bigger, it was determined that a bigger house was needed to accommodate our growing family. It was an exciting time as initially we were included in the house hunt. After looking at different houses we found a large, three-story that everyone agreed would be an exciting possibility. Unfortunately, as my parents were near to closing the sale, they realized that the house lacked a stone foundation and sat directly upon the ground. Our house had been sold and a new place to live was becoming an emergency, so as we children were finishing our last week of school, my parents picked out and closed on a house unbeknownst to us and at the end of two weeks, we began the process of moving in.
It was a house that none of us liked. It felt alien and unfriendly the moment we crossed the threshold. I could've chalked it up to feeling disgruntled because we hadn't been consulted about it before my parents had made the purchase, but strange things began happening in the house the first night we'd spent in it.
I remember being amazed at all of the doors in the house, most rooms having three different entrances. My bedroom had two as well as a separate, small room that served as a closet for both my room and my parents. My middle sister had the room next to mine and I had a separate doorway leading into it. Sleeping in a strange house is always difficult, and so my sister and I usually left our communicating door open and would converse until one or both of us fell asleep.
It was just such a night when after everyone else had fallen asleep, we heard the unmistakable sound of heavy, labored breathing in my sister's room. She asked me in a frightened voice if I heard that. I said, "What? That breathing? I thought it was you." She told me it wasn't and that it sounded as if it were right next to her bed. I came in and looked under the bed, thinking perhaps it was my youngest sister pulling a prank, as she so often did. However, there was nothing there. I then became frightened and crawled into bed with her. Sure enough, there was the sound of heavy breathing again, but as I was in her room now, it was noticeably near the bed.
After listening to it for a few seconds, we both screamed for my dad. He didn't find anything after our repeated petitions for him to search the room. After that, it became a matter of routine to hear breathing and footsteps up the stairs and to see dark shadows where there shouldn't have been any. All this seemed innocuous enough and it was even possible to live with, until our entity became more malevolent.
It was early morning, soon before it was time to get up from school, and I woke up with a heavy feeling on my chest. I realized that a pillow was firmly pressed against my face and that I was having trouble breathing. I experienced a strange immobility that I couldn't explain, as there was nothing holding down my arms or legs. I was panicking and thought that I should pray, that maybe this was a supernatural event that only God could conquer. As I began praying, the lethargy left my limbs and I took the pillow from my face.
I wished I hadn't, though, when I noticed what stood beside my bed looking down at me. There were two children, a young boy which I judged to be about five or six years old staring at me with no expression on his face whatsoever. Beside him was a tall girl with long blond hair in a striped blue dress. It was she that made me gag in terror. I have never had anyone stare at me with such loathing, such evil intent that I could only deduce that she meant me harm.
In my sleep- and panic-fogged mind, I hadn't noticed that the two were transparent and their clothes were those you'd find children wearing in the 1930s. I began praying in earnest and it wasn't until I'd said, "In Jesus' name, Amen" that the entities disappeared. I immediately told my mother what had happened, and strangely enough she had no trouble believing my story, as I suspect she'd had her own experiences in that house.
After I'd grown up and left the house to take up residence with my husband, my parents began some remodeling in the dining room. Behind the plaster in the walls, they found newspapers about the first world war and scraps of newspaper clippings from the second, but there was another find in the walls that brought that long ago event fresh into my mind again. There was a photo of a family of four, and in it were the little boy and adolescent girl that had tried to harm me so many years past. I explained this to my mother, and she quickly threw the picture away.
you have a paranormal tale to tell?