From: firstname.lastname@example.org.Virginia.EDU (Larissa M. Bowles)
Subject: Attic ghosts and other things
Date: Fri, 19 Aug 1994 17:22:32 GMT
I have an attic ghost story for those of you who are interested in hearing it. I hope it isn’t too boring.
The house I grew up in was built in the 1930’s or maybe very early 40’s. The downstairs is all wood floors, and the attic goes the length of the house. I’ve lived in it since I was three, and as anyone can tell you when you live in a house that long, you learn to recognize all kinds of noises. You know exactly what it sounds like when the back door slams; when someone is walking across the attic floor; you learn how to walk upstairs to the attic without making a sound; when the wind pushes a tree against the side of the house, etc. For all my 17 years there, I’ve never heard any stories about anyone getting killed or dying there, or even being seriously injured. However, this fact doesn’t stop “our ghost” from wandering around the attic.
I don’t know how long my mom has heard these noises, but she tells of times when my dad wasn’t home. She could hear the ghost walking around in the attic above the living room. Very heavy, solid footsteps. When she opened the door to the attic and turned on the light, they would stop. When she turned off the light and closed the door, they’d begin again. She’s also heard furniture being moved, glass shattering, and things sliding around. But always, when she went upstairs, she found nothing. My brother heard these too. I’m not sure how much of this my dad heard. It’s never really spooked my mom or brother, actually I think they like having a personal ghost. Funny thing was that I never heard it, unless you count the time I was five.
Once when I was five, I fell asleep on the couch. My parents decided to leave me there, and I awoke sometime during the night – I didn’t open my eyes or move around, but I just stayed there. That’s when I heard these footsteps coming down the stairs from the attic (Which empties out into the hallway). They came slowly, but steadily. I figured that maybe dad had come up there for something and it was just him coming back down. But, the hallway door opened and no one came out. There were no more footsteps, no one was visible, and I was terrified! I went back to my bedroom and crawled under the covers and stayed very still until I fell asleep. Up till a few months ago, I thought that all that had just been a nightmare – I used to have them a lot back then. (BTW, has anyone ever had the same dream on the same night every year for a number of years? This is another story, if anyone’s interested.)
But I was also a very heavy sleeper until my teen years, so if anything did happen, I probably didn’t hear it. However, I’m sure what I heard in May was no dream! This past May, I was at home visiting my parents with my boyfriend, Rob. We were both in my room, but I was in my bed and he was on one of those fold out bed-chairs. Anyway, everything was fine until I woke up. Often in the night I wake up, roll over, and go back to sleep. That night, I rolled over and was almost back asleep when I heard four footsteps. There were little noises around it, but definitely four, perfect, man’s footsteps. I froze! When I heard them a few minutes later, again only four, I jumped outta my bed and crawled up next to Rob, waking him up so he’s hear them too. Fortunately the ghost didnt’ make a liar out of me and walked again a few minutes later. Rob got this look of sheer terror in his face. He’d heard of out ghost for a while, but never believed it. So, we laid there, listening to the ghost a few more times. Rob fell back asleep when the noises seemed to die off. There was no way I was going to sleep, no sir, I figured that I’d just stay awake the rest of the night.
When I told my mom about it the next morning, she smiled and said that it must have been us, because the ghost had been quiet for a long while. But she didn’t hear the noises that night. I also know it wasn’t either of our cats, because one was shut in the kitchen with no way to get upstairs, and the other was in the living room. Besides, the attic door was firmly shut. Ever since then, I’ve not been able to sleep a full night in my room. Last time I was there, which was this past weekend, I heard lots of little noises and one to two footsteps at a time. The noises can’t be the cats, they’re not the tree outside scraping against the house (I know that sound very well), and there’s no way squirrels and things can get into the attic from outside. So that leaves…
I’ve also got a story about dreams coming true and one about a visit from a dying relative, if anyone’s interested.