The house I grew up in Hagerstown, MD was nothing spectacular. It was small, and cramped, with 4 sisters, a brother, and my two parents. (One bathroom and 5 women, now that's scary.) My eldest sister was, well, I hate to say it, but she was 'sensitive' (if she were rich they'd call her eccentric). She would constantly go screaming into my parents bedroom in the middle of the night to tell of the 'things' in her room (which she shared with the other girls, they never saw anything). Personally, I wrote it off to her just being 'weird', although my father still tells stories of hearing someone running down the stairs in the night. Thinking it was my older sister having another nightmare, my father would run after her, and find no one downstairs, and all the kids sound asleep. Now, I'd like to tell you of my experiences in that house.
One night, when I was 16, I was reading William Peter Blatty's 'The Exorcist'. I heard one of my dogs paw nails clicking on the linoleum of my bedroom floor, a very distinct sound. I reached out to pet him and he was not there. He wasn't anywhere upstairs that I could find him. I was done with that book for the night. Over-active imagination from reading a horror story? Most likely.
A few years later, and most of my siblings had moved out. I took over the attic bedroom. My eldest sister, Jenny, hated to sleep up there, she always complained of being tormented by the 'things', pulling her hair, grabbing her feet, etc. Again, I laughed it off. One night, though, I was reading once again, and I managed to spook myself. I went to sleep with the lamp on. This lamp sat on my nightstand right beside my bed. When I awoke the next morning, the lamp was laying on it's side, the lamp shade and light bulb were sitting a few inches apart, in the middle of my room, on the floor. OK, I rationalized that I must have done that in my sleep. Funny how I didn't burn my fingers on the hot light bulb, though.
A few more years go by, I'm married and have a two year old daughter. My family and I are visiting my parents, and we sleep on the attic. We had just settled down for bed and turned the lights off, when, after about 5 minutes, my daughter sits up and points to a fixed spot in the middle of the room, and says 'There they are, mommy. There they are.' over and over. When we asked her who was there, she just kept pointing and said 'The people, there's the people, mommy.' My wife knew of my sister's experiences, and my own, and needless to say we were both spooked. Although my daughter was not the least bit concerned or upset. There's something very unnerving about a two year old pointing to 'something' in a dark room and repeating 'There they are'.
I was relating this story to another sister a couple of Sundays ago (July 16th, 2000). While I was telling her, her face went pale and she broke out in a serious case of goose bumps. She then told me that a couple of years after my incident, she was also visiting my parents with her two year old son, and slept on the attic. During the night, her son Chris sat up, pointed to the centre of the room, and said 'Look at the people, mommy.'
One final addendum. I was asking my daughter recently (she's 18 now) if she remembered what she saw that night. Of course, she did not. But she told me that when she walked by one of the bedrooms upstairs (this bedroom was filled with toys for visiting grandkids), she heard a child's toy playing when there was no one in the room. I was telling (yet another) sister this story, and she told me a friend of hers refused to go into that room, because she once saw a child's toy piano playing by itself. I cannot vouch for the validity of the statements in this last paragraph, but I can tell you that everything I related in the first person did occur. Ironically, I'm still not 100% convinced in the existence of spirits, but I do have to wonder about what my daughter and nephew 'saw' on the attic.
Submitted by: Jeffrey S.