|Posted by snukij on November 6, 2010 at 5:54 PM|
I currently live in Las Vegas, NV, but I was born in Ohio and was raised there until I was 9 years old. I had an unfortunate childhood, and custody of me and my brothers volleyed between my mother and her parents (my grandparents) several times until my mother finally got it together in 1989. Most of this background information came from my mother, but I do remember quite a bit of the actual "events".
We lived in a VERY old house in northeastern Ohio (Akron to be exact, ex-Home of LeBron James!) that was built before WWI, and has quite a story. That story, according to my mother, goes like this: A family lived in the house, which at the time, was a farm house on a decent sized piece of land. It was wartime, and the man of the house was away at war, and his wife and family stayed behind, tended to the farm, and lived their lives. With the husband away, the wife was forced to somewhat neglect the children by working the farm, leaving them unattended, or in each other's care. With the mother outside working, the young girl was unattended and crawled into the fireplace, and died.
Now, I've never verified the facts, and I've never really been interested to. But my mother told me the story, and I believe her. I don't know where she actually GOT the story, but I have a hunch: my grandfather is a retired Akron firefighter, and I can imagine a story like that being passed down a generation or two, especially if the family is living in the house.
The Story : Like I said, this all happened when I was very young, so there really isn't much to it. I know there were lots of weird things like doors slamming and lights turning on and off mysteriously, but I distinctly recall one event clearly. Every morning, when I'd get ready to leave for school, I'd eat breakfast with my mom and little brothers. Then, she's take me back into my room, clean me up, help me get dressed, and ready for school. We'd then walk into the kitchen, where we ate breakfast 10 minutes before, and every single piece of silverware we owned was scatted neatly across the kitchen floor. The creepiest thing about it, is I can remember my youngest brother in his high chair laughing. He was probably 3 at the time, but he was confined to a high chair, and my other brother tagged along with me and my mother while getting ready, so there's no good explanation for how the silverware got there...silently. Surely if someone just dumped it on the ground, we'd hear it. But everyone who could walk was in the same room with me while I got ready for school those few days. This happened for 3 or 4 days in a row, and then I don't remember it happening again.
The other really creepy event that happened was late at night. The house was pretty big upstairs, and my parents were in one room, and I had my own room, and my younger brother had his, and my next youngest brother was still a toddler, and he slept in my parents room. I remember waking up and hearing footsteps in the hallway. Since I was so young and innocent, I figured it was my brother or mom, but then I heard a little girls laugh. Nowadays I'd have my glock locked and loaded in an instant if I heard that (I know, what's a glock going to do to a ghost? haha) or anything else that startled me, but I was young, and my first thought was a classmate was over to play a little too late. When I opened my bedroom door, my parents were just opening theirs, and so was my next youngest brother. We all were looking at each other, and I remember thinking, "They're gonna think it was me." If you're from the midwest and you live in an old house, you know EXACLTY how the upstairs is laid out. the stairwell comes up one side of the house, and lands on the second floor at one end of a long hallway that runs the entire length of the house, where it meets a door, and another stairway, which goes up to the attic. Well, at the very time I thought I was about to be scolded, a set of footsteps that were short, light, and choppy, like little kids running, raced from the landing, right down the hallway, between all of us standing in our bedroom doorways, and up the attic stairs, and the door to the attic stairs slammed shut. Still being young and innocent, and knowing nothing of ghosts or the paranormal, I thought that whoever ran past us was so fast, I just couldn't see her. It was what my parents said at that moment that forever sealed a fear of the paranormal in me. If they just would have told me to go back to sleep, I think I would have been fine. But my mom said, "Tim (my name), Jesse (my brother's name), come in here and sleep with us tonight." And we slept that night all in the same bed. THAT was the part that scared me the most. Because whatever it was, my parents were scared of it. And they wanted us to be together. We moved a few weeks later, but I can't remember anything else happening after the hallway incident.
Categories: Real Ghost Stories