My wife and I moved into our first house on March 12, which, coincidentally, was also her birthday. The house, built in 1912, is a one and a half story with a basement, in a pretty decent part of town. We got a pretty good deal on it, and we both love it.
When we were speaking to the Realtor about the house, I managed to ask if it was haunted. The Realtor dodged the question and I didn’t push it. My wife was so happy to find a house that she loved that I wasn’t about to spoil the moment by asking ‘silly questions’. The reason I asked, though, is that I got what I call ‘the vibe’. As you read these chapters, you will find that I have had my share of paranormal experiences. I have learned to trust ‘the vibe’. It rarely steers me wrong.
‘The vibe’ is the feeling I get that something is not quite right. You know that feeling you get when it feels like someone is watching you? When the hair on the back of your neck stands up or you get goosebumps for no particular reason? That is the closest I can explain what ‘the vibe’ is. I can tell something is not quite right. It doesn’t always work, but when it does happen, I tend to notice and try to pay attention.
We had been living in the house for a month or two. I had yet to sleep in the bedroom. I had been sleeping on the couch in the living room for a couple of reasons. First, I worked late and by the time I got home, my wife and son were in bed. I chose to sleep on the couch instead of chancing waking them up. Second, I wasn’t totally comfortable with the house and the neighborhood. I chose to sleep on the couch in case something were to happen. I was the first line of defense against intruders, foreign and domestic.
What was weird about the house was that there were times when I would come home from work and at the door, I would get ‘the vibe’. Tired from work, I would stand on the porch waiting to go in the house. It was never a threat of danger, though, just the feeling that someone or something was there. Other times, I would feel nothing. I chalked it up to a new house that I wasn’t comfortable with yet; somewhere new and not altogether exciting.
One of the first things that was set up at the house was my entertainment room. When we lived in an apartment, I had no private space for my BIZZAM!! activities. I had to watch the films in the same living room as a 3 year old and my wife. Any man who is married with children knows where he falls on the TV watching scale; dead last behind the baby, the wife, and whatever projects the wife has planned when it’s your turn to watch something. At times, due to the type of film I was watching, I would have to wait until he went to bed, so I was operating on a severe lack of sleep for quite some time. Also, my wife wouldn’t let me hook up my monster of a surround sound system in the apartment. She didn’t want me disturbing the neighbors, despite the fact that they were up at all hours of the day and night and jumping on their floor, our ceiling. Once we got the house, I got my own room, and decked out for the activities required for the running of this site.
On the night in question, I put my son to bed. We went through his nightly ritual. Take his bath. Brush his teeth. Get him into bed with a movie playing, the timer on the TV set for 30 minutes. His room is on the second floor of the house, while BIZZAM!! Command Central is on the first floor. With the baby down for the night, I retired to Command Central to watch a film. The film I chose to watch was No One Lives.
No One Lives is an interesting film. When you look at the cover, you would think it is a revenge thriller. What it actually is is much different. It is more of a horror film, about some small town thieves who steal from the wrong guy. It is a decent film, very interesting, and I would love to see a sequel to it. I digress.
As I am watching the film, I did have my surround sound on, just turned down so as not to disturb the baby’s sweet dreams (in other words, this was daddy’s free time and I didn’t want him waking up). The film progressed as the wind picked up outside. At a quiet point in the film, during a dialogue scene where the rear speakers were not being utilized, I heard someone whisper. I paused the film and turned around, heart beating in my chest. Nothing was there, of course. But I know what I heard. I heard someone whisper. What was said? I do not know. It was a quiet whisper, but a whisper nonetheless. I chalked it up to the film and the wind outside. I then began to get ‘the vibe’. I ignored it, though, as I figured it was nothing more than new house heebie jeebies with horror film and windy night, the perfect storm for frightening anyone, no matter how big or badass they think they are. *waves and winks*
I unpaused the film and continued watching it. After a little while of watching, I felt the need for a cigarette. I walked into the kitchen, grabbed a smoke from the pack on top of the fridge (gotta keep them away from a little one), and headed for the door. As I walked past the stairs heading up to my bedroom and my sons room, I once again hear something whisper, even closer this time than the first time. This time though, there could be no question that it might have come from the movie. Heart beating against my chest bone, I run upstairs to check on my boy. Why? I really don’t know. Just felt that I should. He was fine, snoring in his bed, peaceful. His TV had turned off thanks to the wonderful sleep timer.
I went outside and had my cigarette, then had another. My nerves were a little frayed. I had no explanation for the whispers. I still don’t. It has been a couple months since it has happened. Since that time, I have had nothing else happen in the house. No whispers, no unexplained footsteps. Nothing.
Since that time, though, I have noticed my little one looking at something I can’t see. Or asking me who is here when no one is. One instance in particular happened a week ago. We were sitting in Command Central watching a probably not completely appropriate film for a 3 year old. He looks out the door and asks me if mommy is home. Command Central is right next to the front door of the house. Mommy wasn’t home. I look at him and he is staring out the door. I told him she wasn’t home and asked him if he saw something. He said yes, then said it was an angel. This raised my hackles a little bit, but I hadn’t gotten ‘the vibe’, so I just figured he heard a door close outside.
So, what did I hear whisper to me? Was it just the rear speakers on a horror film, working it’s horror film magic? I would guess it was, if it hadn’t been for a quiet dialogue scene in the movie. Was it the wind blowing through an old house? Again, it could have been, but I have never noticed any draft in the house at all. Nor any settling in the wee hours of the morning. Could my little one have been talking in his sleep and I just heard the tail end of it? Perhaps, but any parent will tell you that they know their children and their voice, even if talking in their sleep. These are all relevant questions that could explain what I heard. But to hear a whisper twice? Curiouser and curiouser. And what about the little one seeing an angel? That one I can explain to his age and starting to learn about Heaven and death. But why would he just blurt out that he saw an angel? Strange and intriguing.
One thing to know about me, before you snap to the judgement that I was just frightened by a horror film. I have only seen three films in my life that have frightened me. They are Wolf Creek, The Blair Witch Project, and Sinister. Those are the only three films that have ever terrified me, no matter what the weather is outside or how dark and gloomy the night is. I have seen thousands of films in my life and hundreds of horror films. They do not scare me. The Exorcist? Great film, not scary. The Conjuring? Creepy as all get out, but not terrifying. So, take that as you will just don’t jump to the snap conclusion that it was being affected by a low-budget horror film.