Nightmares & Hauntings – PART 1 (Story Time!)

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Have you ever had a dream or a nightmare that was so real that even after you woke up, you had this sense of unease as if you were still dreaming? Have you ever had one of those uneasy dreams reoccur night after night for years on end? I have.

This is going to be a bit of a story, so bear with me. The recounting in this series of articles are 100% true as far as I am aware.

When I was a little girl my family lived in a little house along the bay in an old fishing/logging town. We lived in a section of the area called Empire, which was a bit like the ghetto of an already insignificant place. The entire area’s population was under 6,000. We didn’t have a Wal-Mart or a mall, or even our own hospital. What we did have, was history.

The house I grew up in once belonged to an old sea captain (or so I was once told), and though I don’t know the exact dates of the house, I know that when my mother first moved into it, it was the only house on the block. I remember once when I was little my father tore down a wall to expand a room and discovered the beams were made out of driftwood and old ship-timbers covered in barnacles.

I don’t know if anyone ever died in the house before we moved in, but I can tell you that someone died in it after, and I can assure you that it was haunted.

When I was little I used to share a room with my identical twin sister. We used to go to bed at night pretending we were on a Star Trek ship in our individual quarters, and we would jabber on about nonsense well into the night. Eventually, my sister would fall asleep, and I would be left wide-awake. I had what doctors refer to as 4th degree insomnia. I had trouble falling asleep, staying asleep, and going back to sleep once I was awake. Usually this meant I lived off about 2 hours of sleep a night taken in 20-minute bursts until I was well into adulthood.

Now don’t get me wrong, I was a very nervous kid. Our home wasn’t the happiest and I was on practically constant alert to be verbally attacked or hit. I’m an anxious person by nature to this day, but I will still swear to you that as a child, I didn’t sleep because once the lights went out and the house grew quiet, other things besides my sister and I came out to play.

I still remember laying in my bed, covers pulled up over my nose, watching small shadows move about my room like little dark goblins investigating my toys. I know my sister saw them too because she used to refer to them as the Darklings, and later by other names when she started drawing them into comics and writing about them in novels. I also remember waking up one night to see a man walk through our dining room (which my bedroom was adjoined to) and thinking it was my father—only when I asked him the next morning, my father had never gotten up out of bed.

By far my most disturbing memory however, was about the attic. You see, the attic in our house had only one entrance, and that entrance was in my room. It sat not a foot inside the doorway to my room, and it had one of those drop-panels as a door that sunk in between two ceiling beams. The only way to open it was to push the panel up and over out of the way. Attics still give me the creeps because of that house. Every night before bed I would make sure the attic was closed and the panel was in place, and every night I would lay in bed and listen to footsteps and skittering above me and listen to the attic door slowly dragging open. Now, being an irrational kid, I thought a gorilla or aliens lived in my attic. I was a kid after all, but that doesn’t change the fact that I spent every night scared out of my mind as I watched that attic door slide open.

I would wake up each morning to find the attic door slightly open. Sometimes it was only an inch, sometimes it was 6, sometimes the door was nearly entirely removed. My parents told me that wind gusts in the attic had moved it, but I knew better. They hadn’t heard or seen the things I had. Finally, one day, my sister moved into her own room, and my parents let me choose a new color to paint my brand new i-have-to-be-here-alone-OMG room. The trouble was, when they took down the attic panel to paint it as well, they discovered it was covered in three-fingered child-sized handprints. They had to paint over it 3 times before the prints stopped showing up through the paint. A few years later my mother died in that house, and we moved a few months later.

Trouble was, our new house was haunted too.

(Story Time will continue in Part 2)

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8 thoughts on “Nightmares & Hauntings – PART 1 (Story Time!)

  1. My parents live in a haunted house and it’s unsettling to say the least! My brother and I didn’t grow up in this house- my parents bought it after we were away at college. I feel the spirit’s presence the strongest. My parents had a psychic come in who says that the prior owners haven’t moved on yet….

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      • I would only live in my parents house as a last resort! I have severe insomnia when I stay there. I wake at one, two, three o’clock in the morning, see things, hear things, have nightmares- not pretty!

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        • I know exactly what that is like. I swear I spent most of my childhood awake in the dark. Even now that i’m adult it’s become such a habit that I only sleep 2-4 hours a night and wake up at least three times. The dark still freaks me out … i always wonder if one night i’m going to wake up and see the things i saw in that house again.

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  2. Firstly, I’m glad you’re feeling better! I know it’s unrelated to this post, but eh. Anyway,
    Oh my god, that’s horrible. It’s like something out of a horror story, you could probably write a pretty good one about that actually, it must have been terrifying. And I’m sorry about your mother :(.
    Living in a haunted house, is NOT nice. The house I lived in for over 10 years was haunted, though thankfully they didn’t move things around, I just saw them sometimes. Like, this one time, on the subject of ghost stories (I love talking about ghosts, even though they freak the crap out of me) I was sitting in that old house (a cottage out in the countryside) when a woman walked past the window. I wasn’t imagining it, because I remember her perfectly; she had a yellow coat, one of those raincoats, and short, curly hair, kind of like Nicole Kidman in The Golden Compass. I went to the window to see, and she was gone.

    I’ve seen some other things, but that was the one I remember the most out of the ghost sights, other than the ghost cat. Yup, our house was haunted by a cat. The cat wasn’t really scary because, I mean, it was a cat, but it was kind of funny. The first time I saw it, was while sitting watching television. I saw the tail of a tabby cat going around the hall entrance (the hall was the creepiest place ever, I swear) and I thought it was our old cat, Tibbs, and was worried he’d pee down there.
    I told my mother, and she went to look for him, but he wasn’t there. I learned that she and my sister had seen some ghost cats too, and another strange thing, was when my mother’s friend and baby daughter came around, the baby suddenly started pointing into the hall saying, “Poppy, Poppy!” Poppy is the name of their cat, but as Poppy wasn’t there, and the baby doesn’t know what ghosts are yet…

    I also have some weird stories about that house that didn’t have to do with ghosts, but the paranormal, if you want to read (I like sharing these stories)
    Like, the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me is when I was talking to my sister. She was telling me about the ghost of an old man she’d seen, and for some reason I pictured him as a bald man. I didn’t say this, but all of a sudden she quickly said, “He wasn’t bald.” Now that was just freaky. She was surprised herself.

    Then there are the times my sister clearly saw my mother outside, but then my mother turned up behind her. Like this time, she looked out the window and saw my mother digging up potatoes (we grew them sometimes) in the garden, quite clearly, and then mum came out of the bathroom behind her. There was another time when she saw mum out on the bench.

    Also, one time, my sister was lying down in bed, when she heard an American voice clearly say a word she’d never even heard before, which is strange because how can she imagine it if she’s never heard it before? And it wasn’t her mind making it up, because when she asked about it, she found out it was a real word.

    Another creepy thing that happened to me was I was lying in bed at an old house I used to live in, though not the cottage, when I heard breathing outside my door. Heavy breathing, almost growling. When I looked, nothing was there. That was creepy.

    That’s pretty much all my paranormal stories, though I do have some that happened to other people.

    Like, that time my sister’s friends did a ouja board (I think I spelled it right, not sure…) at her friend’s birthday party. My sister and another friend, Mary I think it was, went upstairs on their own because they didn’t want to be a part of it, but most of the strange things actually happened to them instead. Like, they were just standing there, when a poster slipped off of the wall and slid under the door, just like that.
    The house has never been the same since, it’s HORRIBLE. It is so, so creepy. Once, they were away and so my mother had to feed their dogs, and I went with her and had to wait in the hall while she went outside. I was so terrified, it was horrible. Nothing happened, but it was just the feeling there in general. Like, y’know usually haunted places just FEEL haunted, like there’s something weird about them.

    Also, my mother lived in a really haunted house when she was little. Like, taps would turn off and doors would open and slam shut. She hasn’t told me much else about it because she doesn’t like talking about it.
    Another thing that happened to her, was when she was minding her friend’s house while they were away. At night time, she heard something brushing against the walls outside, and presumed it was just cattle seeing as it was in the countryside.
    But ages after that, when she mentioned it while talking to them, they laughed and casually told her that it wasn’t cattle and that it was just the ghosts.

    And ANOTHER thing that happened was to my mother’s friend, whose flat was haunted. Every night, which is really creepy, he would feel hands pushing down on his chest as he tried to sleep.

    Well, that’s all I got for now. Hope you enjoyed reading them, and I’m looking forward to reading the next part of your story!

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    • 😄 i’ve been in the same situation as some of those stories! (part 2 has more on that and is on it’s way) so I totally sympathize. T_T my parents always treated us like we were making this crap up, but I still remember it all so clearly, and it still freaks me out.

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