My grandparents lived in an extremely old house in Northwestern Pennsylvania, about a half mile away from the New York border. As they began getting on in their years, I traveled many miles to stay with them. I would help tend their many acres of land, paint the house, clean (or explore) the barn and do whatever other odd jobs that needed to be done.
The room I stayed in was downstairs directly below their room. Every night at 3:00 a.m., my grandfather would get up, make his way down the old stairs and into the kitchen to get something to drink. The house is so old that everything creaks and groans, so I knew exactly at which point of the house my grandfather was in. I got so accustomed to his nightly rituals that I began waking up at 2:50-3:00 a.m. This has stayed with me to this day.
Unfortunately, my grandfather passed away a couple years later in 2007. My grandmother soon became very sick and was put in the hospital for a few months. I offered to house-sit for her and she was very grateful.
The first night of my visit, I awoke out of a sound sleep. I checked the clock; it was 2:55 a.m. As I lay there, trying to go back to sleep, I heard a familiar sound: movement coming from upstairs. After a minute, it was clear the sound was footsteps. Panic shot through my body and I froze with fear. The footsteps moved from directly above me to the stairs -- but that's when they stopped.
I lay there for about 45 minutes, trying to discern what exactly was going on. The only thing that made sense was that there was a burglar. I jumped from the bed and peered out my door. Everything was dark and silent. I flipped on the nearest light switch and blinked back the darkness. Everything was as it should have been. I crept to the stairs and cautiously made my way up them. When I got to the landing, to my astonishment, the door to my grandparents' room was wide open and every lamp in the room was on! The floor lamp, the bedside table lamp, the two lamps on either side of the dresser, and all four bulbs on the ceiling fan were lit up -- even though two of the bulbs were burnt out earlier in the day!
I bolted back down the stairs and into the comfort of my own room. As I stood there panting and gathering my wits, that old familiar creaking of floorboards started once again above my head. This time, I fled from the house without further investigation and drove in a dazed frenzy all the way back to my own home! When I told my parents and relatives of my adventure, nobody wanted to take on the responsibility of house-sitting, so the house stood vacant for many months. My grandmother soon passed away and my two uncles decided to level the house.
There are now new log cabins on the property. I wonder if anyone has experienced any strange phenomena since then.
