Added May 14, 2003
Creepy Childhood HomeRate this encounter: Michael A. Wethington, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1975, firstname.lastname@example.org
It all started when I was about ten years old. We had just moved in to a house that was built in 1910 and had its share of strange encounters.
The people that had lived there before us were a middle-aged couple. The man had gone crazy and killed his wife. He was then committed to a state-run hospital. I don't know the name of the hospital, but like I said, I was about ten years old then and didn't ask the neighbors what the name was.
We moved into the house and by the time we were done on movie-in day, and it was late and my bedtime, so I went to bed. I was lying in bed and had my clothes next to the bed in large black plastic bags. I laid there, and all of a sudden something hit both the bags at the same time. I called to my mom and told her that we had rats, because something just jumped on the bags. When, 'whatever' had hit the bags, I was looking in that direction, but hadn't seen anything -- it didn't dawn on me that it could be ghosts. My mother said, "No we don't [have rats]. Go to sleep" and that is what I did.
A couple of days passed and that night the water in the bathroom connecting my room to my mother's room came on in the middle of the night, so I got up and turned it off. The next morning I asked my mom why she left the water running in the bathroom? She said she hadn't, but maybe Bobby had.
Bobby was her husband -- he drank a lot, and sometimes passed out from drinking too much.
After that night we had a few things happen like lights going off and on. Mom's excuse? "A short in the wires that go to that light."
I sometimes had to go into the basement, where there was one light -- a bulb hanging from the ceiling, and three rooms with no light -- not a great feeling when you went down there. I always got goose bumps and had a feeling of someone looking at me.
Well, things with Mom and Bobby's relationship were not good at all and we had to leave cause of it. After we had left that house, my mom told me that she had often heard someone calling her name from the basement when she was there alone. I had never heard anyone speaking, or if I did I thought it was Mom and Bobby.
I never thought that there were ghosts hitting my trash bags with clothes in it until years later -- we Never found any rats, mice, or rodents in that house.
The neighbors would say before we moved in to that house that they used to hear noises coming from the house. Sounds like people walking on the front porch and people in the backyard. It was weird -- I will never forget that house -- mainly because of the way I felt there or the way the house made me feel.