The house I grew up in was built in the 1920’s and the haunting did not start until we remodeled the entire two bedroom house.
My first experience came on a night on which my mother was sleeping on the couch to get away from my father’s snoring. My bedroom, which I then shared with only one younger sister, had a door that lead right into the living room On this particular night the door was closed.
I slept soundly but awoke suddenly in the middle of the night for reasons I couldn’t explain. I sat up in bed, fully awake, and looked around the darkened room. My bed was opposite the closet on the other side of the room, which was about three feet away (small room, I know). Standing in front of the closet door was a hooded apparition, wearing a brown cloak that I can best describe as a monk’s attire. I could not see a face. The being raised its right arm twice to point out the bedroom’s only window, and then turned and fled THROUGH the bedroom door.
I did not feel frightened during the experience, merely puzzled. I waited up a few minutes to see if the being would return, but it didn’t.
The following night, the same scenario happened in exactly the same way. And then never again after that. Still, strange voices in the middle of the night occurred along with footsteps that followed me up the basement stairwell and, when I stopped walking, they continued after me. My sister heard voices summon her to various parts of the house for reasons unknown.
We found out years later from a friend from church, who grew up in the house next door, that his aunt and uncle had lived in our house. His uncle had actually died in the house what was now our living room. Since finding that out, I was a little more at ease with the spirits in our home even if they made me feel like I was always being watched. I couldn’t even shower without peeking out of the curtain several times with the idea that someone was in the room with me.
We’ve since moved from the area but the house still stands and is occupied, and I often wonder if the ghost of John Zane still haunts his old home.
Sent in by Ashlee, Copyright 2008