Now before you shake your heads and call in the nice men in white coats with the nets, just hear me out. The whole ghost thing. I will say right up front that I have seen and heard things from a young age that there just isn’t any logical explanation for. By and large, I’ve kept them to myself, because I am very aware that it makes me sound like a nutcase.
I don’t believe that spirits try to talk to me, or follow me around. I don’t believe in malevolent spirits stalking families a la Amityville Horror or The Conjuring. I just know that there are things that I catch out of the corner of my eye, things I hear or sense. Could I have an overactive imagination to match my overactive bladder? Sure, you can find an explanation for just about anything if you try hard enough. I’ve just stopped trying and accepted it. Weird, yes. But weird is good and there you have it.
That brings us to this house. It’s a new house. Very new. 2 years old. No one was murdered in it, buried under the slab, hung from the rafters or electrocuted in the bathtub. And yet..there are things afoot here. I joked about it quite a bit when we moved in, the convergence of flies and wasps all over the house, the need for an exterminator when we moved in. Odd sounds. Lights going on and off. But all of that could be attributed away. Bugs, because Maine in the summer in a house with no lawn or landscaping. Lights, because of cheap contractors maybe not doing the best job. Sounds…well…that one stumped me. Let me fill you in.
About 2 months ago I came home from running errands in the morning. All of the doors were locked, just like I had left them. I came in thru the garage door and dropped my bags. As I did, I heard very clearly and very plainly, the sound of shod footsteps walking across Hallee’s bedroom floor upstairs. I froze and said, “Hello?” I knew very well that I was the only one home. Mark was at work, the kids at school and Scarlet asleep on my bed where I could see her. Did a contractor building the house across the street need the bathroom? How would they get in? I’m a freak for locking doors, I didn’t leave one open. No answer from upstairs, no footsteps.
I got enraged, you guys. No way was I going to accept someone being in my house without my knowing about it. You know that person in the scary movies who always has to go investigate and gets their stupid ass killed first? That’s me. I have 911 on speed dial, put my finger on the button and stomped upstairs. Nothing. Not in the closets, tubs, under the beds, behind furniture. Not in the pantry or under the cupboards or anywhere else. Huh.
Fast forward a month or so. Mid-afternoon, waiting for the girls to get home from school. I’ve been here all day by myself. Doors are locked. I’m sitting on the floor brushing the cat and I hear someone stomping up the front porch stairs. We have a very tall set of stairs leading up to our door, 9 wooden steps. The house vibrated with each stomp, I could feel it under my butt thru the floor. I looked at the clock, alarmed, thinking how in the world did I miss Hallee’s super loud bus coming down our dead end street, turning around (beep-beep-beep) and stopping at our driveway? I tore up the stairs and whipped open the front door to see…nothing. No one. I know what someone coming up our own steps sounds like. I hear it several times a day with both kids coming and going. No cars or trucks on the street, no one walking, just me staring out at nothing. But I handled it with typical Ally aplomb. Fiddle-dee-dee, I’ll worry about it tomorrow. Must have been birds. Or one 200 pound bird.
Fast forward again..to about 2 weeks ago. We were all in bed, sound asleep. I was woken up by what sounded like a TV news show. A woman’s voice. I couldn’t hear the words, but it sounded like she was reading the news. I looked next to me and Mark was wide awake, looking out in the family room, where the voices came from. He went out, assuming the TV had been turned on somehow. Maybe Scarlet jumping up on the remote. Nothing. Cat’s asleep, tv’s, laptops, iPads, Kindles, all off, closed and shut down. He even checked our radio alarm clock. It only lasted for about 10 seconds, but it was loud enough and clear enough to jolt us both upright out of a sound sleep.
Fast forward yet again to this past Saturday night. Mad went to her dad’s for the weekend and after Hal went to bed, Mark & I stayed up until about midnight watching TV. We turned in and
because of his snoring I wanted him to have a good rest, so I went upstairs with my book to Mad’s room and fell asleep. At 2 am, every smoke/carbon monoxide detector in the house (and there are many, hardwired) went off. Add insult to injury, did you know those sons-a-bitches TALK now? ”FIRE FIRE FIRE SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK! FIRE FIRE FIRE SHRIEK SHRIEK SHRIEK” WITH STROBE LIGHTS! FLASHING! IT’S A SEIZURE WAITING TO HAPPEN! At about a billion decibels. All of them. Oh mah gah you guys. I didn’t know whether to sh*t my pants, fall down or go blind.
Luckily I did none of the above. I jumped out of bed and stared at the floor, lamenting the fact that I never got to be a Motley Crue groupie in the 80′s.
photo courtesy Wikipedia.org
Strange what goes thru your mind when you think the world is coming to an end. That lasted until Mark came barreling up the stairs, expecting to see the house ablaze up there, since there was nothing down stairs. Come to find out there was no reason for them to go off. Not a one. After calming down an autistic teen who will now probably have PTSD, she and I went back to bed and poor Mark stayed upstairs on the couch to keep an eye and an ear open just in case. The next day he replaced all of the backup batteries as well as cleaning each unit to make sure there’s no dust.
And finally. Sunday afternoon. We were all completely wiped out after our 2 am wake up call. I went to take a nap late afternoon and when I woke up Mark came in and cuddled with me for a bit. One of his arms was under my head and the other was wrapped around me and tucked under my ribs. While we were lying there talking, I felt my bra strap up on my shoulder pick up, with my shirt and get snapped back. Not hard, but loud enough for me to startle and say, “Ow!” Now, I knew that both of his hands were tucked under me. I knew both of my hands were tucked under his. Ya. We did one of those sit up and stare at each other things. ”I didn’t do that” we both said together.
So there you have it. House built on some kind of ancient burial ground? Just a string of odd things that would happen anywhere to anyone? Maybe. But maybe not. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. If I get sucked into the TV, I am going to be pissed.