The House on West Street
Ghosts or Something Else?
 |
| Photo Credit: Pixabay.com by Tama66 |
From about two years of age, until I was three or four, my family lived in a duplex on West Street. It was most convenient being a few doors down from my maternal grandparents, providing my mother and father with occasional built in babysitters.
My father was a railroader and many times he'd be gone for days leaving my mother and I —until my brothers were born — alone in the house. The duplex was built sometime around the mid 1920's and was full of character. I recall the black and white squares of the floor in the bathroom and a large wooden banister leading to the second floor. I suppose life was quite normal in that house until Delmar Jenkins, an elderly widower, invited my father upstairs to his attic.
Delmar had typical items stored up there from photo albums to unused furniture, I presume. However, my father relayed how unwelcome he felt the instant Delmar opened a large trunk, his hair stood on end. The older man dug around inside and brought out a cigar box. When he opened the box, a lock of auburn hair was inside. Chills ran over my dad's skin, and he dismissed it as he might be cold, even though most attics are the warmest part of homes. He lifted the lock of hair from the box and said, "She had such beautiful hair. It was so soft. Here, touch it!"
Sometime after this strange event my father, especially, found unusual things happening, which I'll go into in another post, but for now, I want to focus on my actual memories. Remember, I was only two or three at the time we lived here, but it is the strong memory of my room and the feelings that are connected to it that I find intriguing.
My bed faced the door to my room and a cute lamp/nightlight sat on a bedside table to my right. At night, my parents could switch the base of the lamp on to illuminate cut out stars. I remember it being gold. And it was the focal point at nighttime.
After probably singing to me and kissing me goodnight, my parents would switch the nightlight part on and pull the bedroom door partially closed, leaving a dark space in the corner behind the door.
I realize, as I have two grown children of my own now, that kids are afraid of the dark and see things in the dark. And if I had been the only one in the house to be afraid, I'd pass it off as such. Yet, I am not the only one to have trouble sleeping in that room nor was I the only one to experience unexplainable events.
As I lay there at night, I'd sense something watching me from the dark corner. My fear level would rise and eventually I heard a voice in my head say, "Keep looking at the light. Just keep looking at the light." So, I did! And each night that I recall, I stared at the base of that nightlight for if my gaze wandered to the dark space behind the door, instant trepidation spread through my little body.
Not long ago I wanted to attempt hypnosis to retrieve the memories from that room. I wanted to see if I could discern what, if anything, lurked in the corner, but unfortunately, I was not able to be hypnotized and gave up.
Still, I wonder, was there anything there? It felt like something was there, watching me. In the next blog post, I'll tell of another event that leads me to believe I saw something unexplainable but my limited vocabulary prevented me from elaborating.
Below, I've attached a video of this same story because I wanted to add images. What do you think it could've been? Do you brush it off as a child's overactive imagination? Do you remember any strange occurrences from your childhood or maybe adulthood that you just couldn't explain?
No comments:
Post a Comment