There were no cold spots or weird feelings when we bought the place. It was just a house. It fit what we needed and it meant we were finally getting on our way. It wasn’t an old Victorian home or a family homestead. It was just a house in the suburbs, 3 bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms, half decent yard and a finished basement; it was built in the housing boom of the early sixties.
The first creepy thing that happened was when I was getting ready for bed. I was standing at my dresser, brushing my hair in front of the mirror, our cat was sitting on top of the dresser watching me. Suddenly he leapt up and arched his back, he started hissing at something. I turned around to see what had him so pissed off. There was nothing there. He jumped off the dresser and bolted under my bed. I turned back to the mirror and I figured it was just one of those crazy cat things. There was something over my left shower, in the doorway, where Shadow had been staring. It was like a fog but there was a face. It wasn’t clear but I had the distinct impression that it was a man. I spun around, I remember my brush flying out of my hand and hitting the wall. There was nothing there. Nothing. No shadow, no face, no man. Nothing but doorway and the hall beyond.
I was so scared, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even call my husband. I don’t know how long I stood there until I could call out to R. I finally managed and he raced up the stairs. I told him what happened and he told me it was probably a light reflection from outside or just some kind of light trick. I brought up the cat and R. said he was nuts anyway and not to worry about it. I tried to feel better about it but I didn’t sleep very well that night. Shadow refused to come out from under the bed until sometime during the day, while we were at work. I started to do my nightly brushing in the bathroom. I didn’t care what R. thought; I didn’t want to see that trick of the light again.
Later that week, Mr. Trick of the Light was in his man-cave puttering around with something. All of a sudden, I hear him pounding up the stairs, the front door flung open and he was outside. I went to door to see what the problem was and I saw him disappear around the back of the house. He came back a few minutes later; he was pretty upset about something but he refused to tell me what it was. It didn’t matter what I said and he started to get mad at my attempts to find out what was bothering him so I just shut up.
We went on up to bed. It was starting to get cold, so I went into our spare room which was used for storage as well as a guest room. I wanted to get another blanket for the bed. I went to pull the blanket out of the drawer and it slapped shut, just missing my hand. It didn’t just close a little bit, it slammed shut. I was freaked. The blanket stayed where it was, half in, half out of the drawer. I took off to our bedroom, R. was sitting on the bed and I was crying at this point. I told him what had happened and he got up to go to the room, I followed him. I was still crying. I was scared to death. R. opened the drawer and pulled out the blanket. He opened and closed the drawer a few times, there was nothing wrong. It opened and closed normally. This time he didn’t try to offer and explanation. He brought the blanket back to our room and I put it on the bed. We didn’t say a word.
We were lying in bed, and R. told me why he raced out of the house. He was fixing a chair on his workbench, there is a window over the bench. He was turning a screw and looked up at the window. There was a man’s face. An old man, looking in at him. He figured we had a prowler and raced up to catch him. The yard is fenced and his window faced the fenced area. There is only one way out, through a gate or through the house. The gate was closed and no one was there. Neither of us slept very well that night; we talked about possibilities and they were all too flimsy to be believable.
In the morning, we were sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking coffee. Shadow was sitting on the window sill, grabbing some sun; he jumped off the sill and took off out of the room. It happened so fast that I almost spilled my coffee. My husband, in a really quiet voice said to me “C. look, look at the window!” There was a face. It wasn’t like a real person, the face was kind of misty, out of focus and that window is over 7 feet from the ground. No one could be standing there and looking in, without a ladder. Then, it just disappeared. It didn’t fade away, it just kind of popped out. Gone.
What happened next, sealed the deal for us. The cream flew off our counter and hit the floor. It was about 6 inches from the edge. It didn’t just tip over, it flew off that counter and hit the floor. We packed a few things, grabbed Shadow and called the real estate agent from R.’s parents’ home. We put it up for sale and took a loss. We just couldn’t spend another minute in that house. I don’t know if anyone else had bad experiences, I do know that the house has been put up for sale twice, in the past year.