Yellow House
When I was 11 yearsold my family moved into a big, brand-new, yellow house inSouthern California's High Desert. The house had not even beencompleted when we first moved in, and workman would come in everyday to put the finishing touches on the house. In spite of itsnewness this house was as haunted as any Victorian-era home onthe East Coast. Though this may sound terribly cliché, it wasrumored that most of that area had been sacred land to the NativeAmericans. That isn't as far-fetched as it may sound. That smallvalley was indeed inhabited by several tribes of Native Americans.The entire valley always had a strange energy to it- far morestrange than any energy I have ever felt anywhere else. TheNative Americans, being very in tune with the energy of the land,surely must have noticed this. It stands to reason that thisvalley would have been sacred to them.
It was my little sister, Elaine, who is two years younger than I,who first began to notice that our family wasn't alone in thehouse. She would tell me about seeing disembodied hands restingon doorknobs and strange figures appearing in her room. I scoffedat first, knowing that Elaine was fond of drawing attention toherself.
Soon after we had moved in, though, I couldn't help but see whymy sister felt the house was haunted. Every room in the housethat faced the back yard had an evil, stifling feeling to it-Elaine's room being one of the rear-facing ones. The kitchen alsofaced the rear of the house. I remember before we got blinds forthe windows facing the backyard I would be terrified to get adrink of water in the middle of the night. One night I had adream that I was in the kitchen and I felt compelled to look outthe window. When I looked I saw what looked like a person walkingbehind the back wall of our small backyard. I stood petrified asthe "person" turned and looked at me. The face wascompletely dark and I didn't notice any features except twolarge, evil-looking silver eyes.
I believe the first time that I actually saw an apparition inthat house was when I was 12 or 13 years old. I had just taken ashower and gotten into bed. I fell asleep with the towel stillwrapped around my head. I woke several hours later and reached upto pull the towel off my head when I saw it. Right next to thebed, no more than a foot away from me was a large black shapewith the same evil, silver eyes as the "person" in mykitchen dream. I immediately reached up to turn on the lamp on myheadboard, but it had vanished completely.
Through the years, my sister and I both witnessed many, manyother paranormal disturbances. Though our parents never noticedanything odd, many of our friends had seen or heard our "housemates"on several occasions. At one point, a large, empty room in thehouse dubbed the "gameroom" became so unbearable thatno one ever went in there, and when they did they didn't staylong, due to the very strong feeling of something awful watchingin there.
We had two resident ghosts, and many "transients." Ourresidents we called "the Man" and "the Lady."Though I only heard her once, according to Elaine, the Lady wouldwalk through the house, calling for my sister and I. She wasalways very discreet and never caused any trouble. She was onlyever heard by my Elaine, myself (once- and that was enough), andElaine's boyfriend, David.
Our more infamous resident, "the Man," made appearancesnot only to my sister and I, but to several of our friends aswell. One evening as I was walking from the living room to thekitchen, I saw a man who I thought was my father standing in thegameroom. He was wearing a bright red shirt and blue shorts. Justas I turned away from him I heard my father calling me fromupstairs. This confused me, because I was standing right in frontof the stairs and he would have had to go around me to climb them.I asked him if he had just been in the gameroom, and he said no,that he had been upstairs all evening. I searched all of thedownstairs area, but I was alone. I immediately called mypsychologist (whom I had been seeing for my "night terrors")and told him about the man. He couldn't find any way to explainwhat I had just seen. When I told my friends the story they justlooked at me oddly. Finally one of them said, "I knowthere's a ghost in your house. I see him all the time," Theothers just nodded their heads and began to tell me the storiesof their sightings of the Man.
For months something terribly evil took residence in my bedroom.I am almost positive that it was a demon. As I was trying to fallasleep at night I would feel a horrible, evil presence emanatingfrom one corner of my room. It was so strong I could almost feelit as a physical sensation. My sister stopped coming in my roomall the time, as she used to. One night I woke to find yetanother horrible apparition hovering close by. I stormed out ofmy room trembling with terror and anger. I went into my parents'bedroom and woke my father. "Get up. You're coming with methis time!" and I dragged him into my room. "Do youfeel this?" I asked angrily, "Even you can't deny thatthere's something evil in here!" He stood there for amoment, then said, "In the name of Jesus Christ I commandyou to leave!" We waited a moment or two, but the presencedid not leave. He tried again. "That doesn't work, dad,"I sighed. I had prayed to God every night to protect me from thisthing, but it appeared regardless. He sat on my bed and looked atme. "I always knew that there was something special aboutyou," he said, "And I guess they can sense it, too.You're here for a reason and they're trying to stop you." Iwas stunned. I always knew that my father had dealt more with thesupernatural than he had ever let on, and this comment wascompletely out of character for him. We hugged and he went backto bed.
Another night I awoke to find the dark brown, see-through figureof a man in my room. I sat up in bed and screamed, but he didn'tvanish as all the others before him had. When I saw thatscreaming wasn't getting rid of him, I threw a pillow at him.That didn't make him leave either, though I believe he finallywas realizing how much he was freaking me out. He began to backup and put his hands up as if to say, "Hey, calm down! I'mnot here to hurt you," but still he wouldn't vanish. FinallyI worked up the nerve to go around him and out my bedroom door. Istood in the hallway with my back to the door calming myself.When I felt enough time had passed that he was probably gone, Iturned to go back into my room, only to find him still there. Iturned back around and ran down the hall to my sister's room,where I spent the remainder of the night. I never saw thatparticular guy again, and I am fairly certain that he was not ourresident ghost, "the Man," or that evil, nasty thingthat had plagued me for all those months.
Another odd thing about our house was the fact that something inthere was very particular about whom we invited over. One of mybest friends, Nick, and my sister's boyfriend, David, would bothcomplain that they were either too hot or too cold while theywere in the house, even though everyone else was comfortable.
This is just the tip of the iceberg. Many, many other strangethings happened to my sister and I the 12- 13 years we resided in"The Yellow House." About six months ago my parentsfinally sold it. When I asked if they had mentioned to the newowners anything about our house's "peculiarities" theyjust said, "Of course not!"
That house is not the only place I experienced odd things- farfrom it! Perhaps I will submit other stories about my otherfreaky experiences.