True Ghost Tales

Root Cellar

I don't know if you would like to use this story, this is my very first story, so if you like to read though it and correct any errors or reword anything to make it better please be my guest. This is a true story.

This is the first story I ever wrote, so please take that into consideration.

I have lived in New England all my life, my mother was born in Canada and my father in New York State. Like old Northern New England houses, they were built with root cellars. These cellars were used for storing food and other perishable goods throughout the year. Usually the only way to the cellar was inside the home though a trap door or a stair case, so animals could get in. This particular home the only way to the root cellar was though a stair case. Like most New England families from up north we had a large family. I had four sisters and two brothers. With a large family like that my parents had to do odd jobs after dinner for extra money to help with the finances. My parents would work three times a week for another family about 5 miles down the road house cleaning and other odd jobs.

Well this hot and stormy July night they had to leave a little bit earlier to get things done before the storms start moving in. My oldest brother would be in charge of us, he was about 16 and I the second youngest was 6. Well we were sitting around the radio listening to our favorite radio broad cast when a knock started on the cellar door, for a moment we though it was coming from the front door, but who would be visiting at 7:00 in the evening with such bad storms in the area. Joe got up and went straight to the cellar door and put is ear to the door, I guess to make sure that it was coming from there. Just as he put his ear to the door, it started to get louder and louder and we ran to the door to braced our self against it to make sure nobody gets in. with six or seven of us screaming and crying as the knock was getting louder and louder and the door is starting to crack as if their was a large person banging at the door.

It really took all of us to stop the door from opening with the pounding that went on it seems for about five minutes. Then there was load thunder sound that was like a bomb going off and lights flickering and my sister and myself screaming, it was just to much to handle, I started to run to the front door and as I reach the door my parents walked in, and to their surprise to see us leaning up against the door, my father couldn't hesitate to ask what the hell is going on. As we all started to tell how we heard a knocking sound from the root cellar, my father would did not want to hear the nonsense. As my father started to raise his voice to all of us , my mother raised her hands for my father to be quiet. As every one started to settle down we started to hear foot steps coming from the cellar stair case and we all started screaming again. just like all fathers do just with the raise of the hand you knew he wanted silence. As he listened to the sound of the foot steps coming closer to the door, he braced himself against the door like he expected someone to shove the door open, then suddenly with another crack of thunder something pushed on the door and almost knocking my father to the floor. As everything is taking place, like a mother would do, my mother started to gather her children in a corner of the room away from the door. My father screamed saying get the kids outside, as my mother pushing one by one outside there was another crack of thunder and then another, as the cellar door flew open and my father fell to the floor grabbing something for defense. As the lightning flashed and lite the room, the open door way was empty.

As my father grabbed a hammer and a flesh light out of the cabinet, he started down the stairs with caution. With my mother and us kids in the corner of the room with a candle burning for us to see, my mother reach on the wall and pulled down the cross she had hanging on the wall since we moved there two years earlier. She was a strong Catholic and she started praying all types of prayers and I got more frightened by just knowing that my mother was afraid. It felt that my father was down there for along time and I started to think that something could have happened to him, especially with my mother starting to pray louder. With another flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder again we spotted a figure in the door way of the cellar. with another flash of lighting we could see it was our father returning from the cellar. as we all started to ask what was trying to get in, my mother told us quiet down and lite some more candles. My mother walked over to my father and asked, are you all right and my father said yes. My mother said what was it, what was down there, and he said nothing I couldn't find anything. I couldn't believe what I was hearing because I knew I heard and seen with my own eyes and ears the terrible sounds that was coming from that cellar door. My father stood there stunned and unable to say any thing else except for the words , there was nothing down there with total surprise.

My mother knowing that she knew that someone or something broke the door and scared our family half to death, she just grabbed the hammer and a nail and hung the cross over the cellar door. Nobody ever went down there except for my father when he brought every thing up that we needed and nailed the door closed. We never talked about it again, because my mother told us all that with the cross hanging over the door no one or nothing will harm us. We moved out of that house within six months, my parents never left us a lone again in the house, and every day we would kneel down and say prayers. Was there some thing in the cellar and was it evil ? or was it used as a hiding place during the underground railroad and a slave was locked in the cellar and died trying to get out. I went by the house one time about five years ago, it is still standing, but unlivable any more. The vegetation is almost covering the old home.