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I'd like to start out this week's Hometown Haunt with a moment of silence due to all the unrest in America right now. As I shared on my Facebook page yesterday, hatred is a virus too. For unity we must wipe clean the hatred in our hearts and work toward a real change of understanding, love, and listening. May we each understand this, find it, and cherish it. <3
This week's Hometown Haunt comes from Unknown. This story gave me chills and though I emailed for a name or pen name, I did not receive one. Thank you Unknown for the chills. This is a good one! ~ The house was built in the late 1800’s. If you went into the basement, you would see the beams that the house rested on were tree trunks with shreds of bark remaining. Dark, foreboding, it hunched on the hill like a black widow, waiting for its next victims…. We moved into that house when I was 14 years old. We had no place to go; our house had just been destroyed in a house fire. There was very little that could be salvaged; a few clothes and some furniture. Everything reeked of smoke and burned insulation. My older brother was in the hospital for smoke inhalation and pneumonia, as he had been sleeping upstairs where the fire broke out in the walls. We had no choice… it was here or our car… From the first, the house gave us an uneasy feeling, as if we weren’t welcome; in fact, barely tolerated. There were times you would SWEAR someone spoke, but in whispers that you couldn’t make out, or your name would be called, and the only person at home was you. Knocks in the walls and on the doors… nobody else is there. Footsteps, as if someone in boots was walking up and back, in the carpeted hallway; no one visible, that is. Music playing in parts of the house that had no electricity; it was a strange house, with two upstairs that didn’t connect. One to be used by the family, the other (apparently intended for the servants). There was never any electricity in the 2nd upstairs, and yet music would play and at night, if you were outside, you could see lights on in the far northeast room…. No power, remember? Palm prints in the dust of the landing on the 1st upstairs. So what, you ask? Well… they were placed as if the person that had their hands there was hanging from the landing suspended over the stair well… about 15 feet in the air… the creepiest part? They were clear as day, in an area of the house that had been closed up for over 15 years. My father had moved into town about a year prior and hadn’t been back since he moved. By this point both areas were being used for storage; no one had been up there in years. I have so many tales I could tell. But the one you need to hear, that will stay with you always, is…. If you saw the ghost, then something catastrophic was going to happen. If you saw the ghost, then a terrible tragedy would occur… a fire, a bad accident, death. If you saw the ghost… **GASPS*** Chills!! Loved this weeks Hometown Haunt. Thanks again Unknown. Love the creepy good feels. If you’d like to submit your Hometown Haunts email me at brandy@brandynacole.com.
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