another long one
I would like to elaborate a tiny bit for you about me and my family. My name is Robert. I'm the youngest in our family. There was 9 of us living in this house. My 2 parents, 3 sisters and ofcourse my brother and I. Also living with us was our grand parents. I personaly have only experanced a few things, but been so young I'm not sure if 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, even into my late teens. Well to go on...i would like to assure you that all of the stories you have read from us or will read from us in the future are true and have been recounted to the best of our memories.
Well we hope you enjoy the stories and will give us feed back on them. We enjoy reading your responses and would like to hear more. So if you would like to respond to us...you can either post them here or email them to my address.
ComPrt2@worldnet.att.net . I will foward each and any response to my sisters.
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Lily's stories
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Hello everyone. My sister Becky and I have a few more stories for you today. My first story is about the pink room in the the haunted house we grew up in . The house was originally a 2-room home with a living room with a bay window, a good sized dining room, one bathroom, a kitchen with built in cupboards (some with glass windows for your dishes), and a cool California cooler (an old-fashioned style cooler for your food which was non-electric), an indoor utility porch with a wonderfully deep utility sink. I used to love this feature (it was great for washing the dog without breakiing your back). If also featured a nice front porch with plenty of sitting room. Later the porch a rea was extended and turned into a spare bedroom and the kitchen was expanded for more sitting room.
It's funny, later on when we examined the original blueprints for the house the pink room was not on the blueprints. But when you look at the house you can tell it was not an addition. How could they 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 babysit my aunt's little boy everyday during the week while she worked). One of my chores was to clean the bathroom tub and sink which I was doing this day. My little brothers and cousin would frequently follow me around and ask me to tell them stories or sometimes they just wanted to hand around and watch me work or do crafts.
The eldest of my two younger brothers and my little cousin (to protect their privacy I'll call them M and J) were watching me scrub the sink while I we spoke to each other. My shared bedroom (the pink room) was right next to the bathroom. The connecting door was closed and locked. As I was talking to the two little boys we suddenly heard someone in the pink room. We heard the heavy metal handles of the vanity drawers clink as they were being handled and the definite sounds of the drawers opening up. We heard the sound of my heavy bottles of face and body creams being moved around (remember those old Avon bottles that used to weigh a ton?) Since the only kid I didn't have with me was my youngest brother Bobby I assumed it was him (he was notorious for getting into things when he was a little boy). I yelled "BOBBY, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!" Then I heard my mother's angry voice yell back to me...."DON'T YOU BE YELLING AT BOBBY, HE'S RIGHT HERE WITH ME!" Now let me tell you...The kitchen was a good two rooms away from the kitchen either way you look at it (the other side of the house). My mom said Bobby had never left her side (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 my back. I stopped and went to the pink room to check it out. My mother trying to rationalize this saying "it was probably the wind." I don't think so mom......The windows were shut tight,. the doors were closed....and I hardly think the wind could have opened the drawers, lifting the metal handles and moving around those heavy bulky glass bottles of cream.
My second story is about my grandfather. My grandfather prided himself on his yard. He was was always fighting weeds and insects to protect his flower garden, mowing, sweeping, cleaning off any dead materials. I mean he was a perfectionist when it came to his home. We never had chipping paint or overgrown weeds at our house! So he would spend a lot of time outdoors in the yard. The house had a smaller house with a bedroom and a half behind it on the same lot where my grandmother's sister and her common-law husband lived (we called them uncle and aunt). My grandfather was in the backyard near this back house when he heard his name being called from inside the house. He got off his knees from the backyard and walked towards the front house (the one where we lived). He climbed the back stairs and walked in the back door. He walked up to my grandmother and asked her "what did you want?" to which she looked surprized and said "what?" He explained that he had heard someone yell for him from the house. She looked very surprized because no one had called him. He shrugged his shoulders and went back outside to continue his yard work. This would happen two more times that same day within a few minutes of each other.
The home in which my husband , my daughter and I live in now is wonderfully spirit free and we all sleep a whole lot better these days. When I was growing up, as I got older a lot of this stuff didn't scare me anymore....It would freak me out a little....but it 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 the house sometimes gave me the wierdest vibes that I never really got used to again. I did love the comfortable space (the house was a lot bigger than I had remembered it, seeing that there were so 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 memories of 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 like to hear more of these true stories from Becky and I please let us know. We'll be glad to share our experiences with you.
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Becky's Story
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The "Pink Room"...that is what we called it. This room...in my opinion is the doorway for the something evil that lives in that house. The closet to be exact...my father had to put a bolt on this door to keep it closed. U could close it tightly...and then for no apparent reason...either while U were away, or perhaps resting on your bed...it would slowly creak open, as if opened by unearthly hands. As a child I had seen a hand come out of that closet....I remember screaming, because I had never seen a hand like that on anyone. The nails were long, discolored, and purplish in color....the skin was pasty looking, the fingers knarled...and covered with hair. It played with the doorknob...almost threatening to come out of the closet....and then slowly....retreated back into the closet...closing it tight once again.
I slept in the "Pink Room"...I shared this room with my two sisters. One night I can remember being very, very tired...so tired that it was almost difficult for me to go to sleep....I slowly started to relax...my eyes almost shut...but I still hadn't closed them completely. I was sleeping on my back...my legs crossed at the ankles. I suddenly tried to uncross my ankles...and found that I couldn't move. I could still see everything around me...through the slits of my eyes...but I couldn't move! I started to hear buzzing....or a mumbling right next to my ears, maybe words, who knows. I wasn't able to decipher what was being said. Next I saw small sparks of light in front of my eyes, and I felt like I was starting to float up...but somehow my body wasn't coming with me. I felt like just floating away...to see where I would go....to see if I could go beyond the walls of the "Pink room". Something caught my eye....it was standing next to the closet, and the closet was now open..[the door had been bolted before we lights out that night] It was a man....I could only see the outline of his body...because I could see the night light in my parents room shinning behind him. He appeared not to be wearing clothes....and he was very, very tall [his head almost touching the top of the doorjamb. I couldn't see any indication of hair on his head....and he seemed somewhat muscular. I felt my heart starting to race...and I could feel the panic starting to rise in me....I sensed that he wanted something from me. I was afraid....what if I left my body alone...would he take my place?? I started to fight the feeling of rising....struggling to move again...it didn't work. I tried over and over again....and suddenly I was able to move...bolting upright in my bed. He was gone....all I could see over by the door...was the glow of the night light. Something strange though.....my eyes....everything looked red....almost as if someone had taken a piece of red cellophane and held it in front of my face......slowly normal color started to return to my eyes...until it was completely gone. I glanced over at my sisters...and they were both sleeping peacefully....
The house watches U....no matter where U are, outside playing...or inside cooking something in the kitchen.....I sometimes wonder if the people living in it now have seen or heard anything....I guess we will never know....
Mom thereafter allowed me to keep the light on, but she was very impatient with me. She told me I had a hyperactive imagination, and that I'd damn well better not mention these steps to my brothers and sister, because the last thing she needed to deal with was four children who were terrified of ghosts. 
