In the spirit of Halloween and all things spooky, I thought I would tell you all a ghost story.
Leland and I live in a house that was built in the 30’s. It was once a private residence, a nursing home, and then a private residence again that was also a drug house. We figured it would have some sort of interesting history, but since we haven’t done any research, all we know about the house we heard from the neighbors. Other than it being a drug house, none of the history was really bad. Just normal old house stuff.
When we first moved in, I had a couple encounters with what could have possibly been a ghost. Nothing terribly scary, just some things that couldn’t be explained. Though I was weirded out, I really didn’t think much about it. I just went on living and unpacking and trying to get things organized.
From day one, there have constantly been unexplained noises. We thought it was just the house getting used to us. We have often heard stomping noises coming from upstairs even when there was no one up there. These little things really didn’t scare us. If it was a ghost, at least it was just hanging out and not causing problems. We were hopeful that we wouldn’t turn into the next Amityville horror.
Though all of these little things were happening, I wasn’t that convinced that it was some sort of ghost. I believed they were just noises. No big deal.
Until one night I got up to go to the bathroom at 4am. We do not have a bathroom on the second floor of the house, so I had to go to the main floor to pee. Again, no big deal. I do this all the time. This time was a little different though. When I made it down stairs, I heard music coming from somewhere. I looked outside to see if anyone had lights on or was blasting music in their car.
I wandered into the kitchen to check the back door. When I got into the kitchen I noticed that the music was getting louder and louder. Like I was getting closer and closer to where the music was coming from. When I made it to the top of my basement stairs, there was no getting around that the music was coming from my house. My basement.
I stood at the top of the stairs for about a minute deciding what to do. I really didn’t want to wake up Leland. I am a tough, hardcore woman and I could handle a little noise. But at the same time, I really didn’t want to be one of those stupid girls in horror flicks who knows she shouldn’t be investigating weird noises by herself but does so anyway.
And ends up getting gutted with a machete.
What’s a girl to do?
I went downstairs.
When I got there, I relaxed. It was just a CD player playing one of Leland’s heavy metal CD’s. I was admittedly a little embarrassed for being so freaked out. It was just a CD player. I laughed at myself and went to turn off the music.
I pressed the stop button and it wouldn’t stop.
I pressed the power button and it wouldn’t turn off.
I went to unplug the damn CD player to find that it wasn’t plugged in.
When I went to take out the batteries I found that there weren’t any.
The music just kept playing and I could not turn the CD player off.
And somehow the CD player was running without any power feeding it.
As fast as I could, I opened the CD player, snatched the CD out of it, ran back upstairs, and got back into bed next to Leland. It was only then that I realized I had never peed and really had to go, but there was no way I was going back downstairs alone.