Sister Stories 4
I would like toelaborate a tiny bit for you about me and my family. My name isRobert. I'm the youngest in our family. There was 9 of us livingin this house. My 2 parents, 3 sisters and ofcourse my brotherand I. Also living with us was our grand parents. I personalyhave only experanced a few things, but been so young I'm not sureif it was real or just my imagination. One thing I am sure of,was that I would often feel that some one was watching me, eveninto my late teens. Well to go on...i would like to assure youthat all of the stories you have read from us or will read fromus in the future are true and have been recounted to the best ofour memories.
Well we hope you enjoy the stories and will give us feed back onthem. We enjoy reading your responses and would like to hear more.So if you would like to respond to us...you can either post themhere or email them to my address. ComPrt2@worldnet.att.net . Iwill foward each and any response to my sisters.
_______________________________________________________
Lily's stories
-----------------
Hello everyone. My sister Becky and I have a few more stories foryou today. My first story is about the pink room in the thehaunted house we grew up in . The house was originally a 2-roomhome with a living room with a bay window, a good sized diningroom, one bathroom, a kitchen with built in cupboards (some withglass windows for your dishes), and a cool California cooler (anold-fashioned style cooler for your food which was non-electric),an indoor utility porch with a wonderfully deep utility sink. Iused to love this feature (it was great for washing the dogwithout breakiing your back). If also featured a nice front porchwith plenty of sitting room. Later the porch a rea was extendedand turned into a spare bedroom and the kitchen was expanded formore sitting room.
It's funny, later on when we examined the original blueprints forthe house the pink room was not on the blueprints. But when youlook at the house you can tell it was not an addition. How couldthey miss an obvious thing as a bedroom?
Anyway this story takes place when I was about 14 or 15 years old.Everyone was gone and the only ones home where myself, my mother,my two brothers and my little cousin (my mother used to babysitmy aunt's little boy everyday during the week while she worked).One of my chores was to clean the bathroom tub and sink which Iwas doing this day. My little brothers and cousin wouldfrequently follow me around and ask me to tell them stories orsometimes they just wanted to hand around and watch me work or docrafts.
The eldest of my two younger brothers and my little cousin (toprotect their privacy I'll call them M and J) were watching mescrub the sink while I we spoke to each other. My shared bedroom(the pink room) was right next to the bathroom. The connectingdoor was closed and locked. As I was talking to the two littleboys we suddenly heard someone in the pink room. We heard theheavy metal handles of the vanity drawers clink as they werebeing handled and the definite sounds of the drawers opening up.We heard the sound of my heavy bottles of face and body creamsbeing moved around (remember those old Avon bottles that used toweigh a ton?) Since the only kid I didn't have with me was myyoungest brother Bobby I assumed it was him (he was notorious forgetting into things when he was a little boy). I yelled "BOBBY,GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!" Then I heard my mother's angry voiceyell back to me...."DON'T YOU BE YELLING AT BOBBY, HE'SRIGHT HERE WITH ME!" Now let me tell you...The kitchen was agood two rooms away from the kitchen either way you look at it (theother side of the house). My mom said Bobby had never left herside (she was cooking in the kitchen). I said to her "Well,if Bobby is with you and M and J are with me, who is in my room?!?"The hair on the back of the neck prickled and a chill ran up myback. I stopped and went to the pink room to check it out. Mymother trying to rationalize this saying "it was probablythe wind." I don't think so mom......The windows were shuttight,. the doors were closed....and I hardly think the windcould have opened the drawers, lifting the metal handles andmoving around those heavy bulky glass bottles of cream.
My second story is about my grandfather. My grandfather pridedhimself on his yard. He was was always fighting weeds and insectsto protect his flower garden, mowing, sweeping, cleaning off anydead materials. I mean he was a perfectionist when it came to hishome. We never had chipping paint or overgrown weeds at our house!So he would spend a lot of time outdoors in the yard. The househad a smaller house with a bedroom and a half behind it on thesame lot where my grandmother's sister and her common-law husbandlived (we called them uncle and aunt). My grandfather was in thebackyard near this back house when he heard his name being calledfrom inside the house. He got off his knees from the backyard andwalked towards the front house (the one where we lived). Heclimbed the back stairs and walked in the back door. He walked upto my grandmother and asked her "what did you want?" towhich she looked surprized and said "what?" Heexplained that he had heard someone yell for him from the house.She looked very surprized because no one had called him. Heshrugged his shoulders and went back outside to continue his yardwork. This would happen two more times that same day within a fewminutes of each other.
The home in which my husband , my daughter and I live in now iswonderfully spirit free and we all sleep a whole lot better thesedays. When I was growing up, as I got older a lot of this stuffdidn't scare me anymore....It would freak me out a little....butit didn't scare me a whole lot. I guess I became desensitized.But when we moved back in I was not used to it anymore and thehouse sometimes gave me the wierdest vibes that I never reallygot used to again. I did love the comfortable space (the housewas a lot bigger than I had remembered it, seeing that there wereso many of us I had always remembered the house as being small),and it was hard for me to leave this house. It held many memoriesof good times with my family, and it being the home I grew up in.But I really love the peaceful feeling in my new home.
Well that's it for now. It you have any questions, or would liketo hear more of these true stories from Becky and I please let usknow. We'll be glad to share our experiences with you.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Becky's Story
------------------
The "Pink Room"...that is what we called it. This room...inmy opinion is the doorway for the something evil that lives inthat house. The closet to be exact...my father had to put a bolton this door to keep it closed. U could close it tightly...andthen for no apparent reason...either while U were away, orperhaps resting on your bed...it would slowly creak open, as ifopened by unearthly hands. As a child I had seen a hand come outof that closet....I remember screaming, because I had never seena hand like that on anyone. The nails were long, discolored, andpurplish in color....the skin was pasty looking, the fingersknarled...and covered with hair. It played with the doorknob...almostthreatening to come out of the closet....and then slowly....retreatedback into the closet...closing it tight once again.
I slept in the "Pink Room"...I shared this room with mytwo sisters. One night I can remember being very, very tired...sotired that it was almost difficult for me to go to sleep....Islowly started to relax...my eyes almost shut...but I stillhadn't closed them completely. I was sleeping on my back...mylegs crossed at the ankles. I suddenly tried to uncross my ankles...andfound that I couldn't move. I could still see everything aroundme...through the slits of my eyes...but I couldn't move! Istarted to hear buzzing....or a mumbling right next to my ears,maybe words, who knows. I wasn't able to decipher what was beingsaid. Next I saw small sparks of light in front of my eyes, and Ifelt like I was starting to float up...but somehow my body wasn'tcoming with me. I felt like just floating away...to see where Iwould go....to see if I could go beyond the walls of the "Pinkroom". Something caught my eye....it was standing next tothe closet, and the closet was now open..[the door had beenbolted before we lights out that night] It was a man....I couldonly see the outline of his body...because I could see the nightlight in my parents room shinning behind him. He appeared not tobe wearing clothes....and he was very, very tall [his head almosttouching the top of the doorjamb. I couldn't see any indicationof hair on his head....and he seemed somewhat muscular. I felt myheart starting to race...and I could feel the panic starting torise in me....I sensed that he wanted something from me. I wasafraid....what if I left my body alone...would he take my place??I started to fight the feeling of rising....struggling to moveagain...it didn't work. I tried over and over again....andsuddenly I was able to move...bolting upright in my bed. He wasgone....all I could see over by the door...was the glow of thenight light. Something strange though.....my eyes....everythinglooked red....almost as if someone had taken a piece of redcellophane and held it in front of my face......slowly normalcolor started to return to my eyes...until it was completely gone.I glanced over at my sisters...and they were both sleepingpeacefully....
The house watches U....no matter where U are, outside playing...orinside cooking something in the kitchen.....I sometimes wonder ifthe people living in it now have seen or heard anything....Iguess we will never know....