The Music Box And Other Things

This is the telling of on going incidents I deal with, at my home and my parent's home.

In November of 2007, I moved in with my great grandmother to help take care of her. She owns a moderate sized folk Victorian house in Milton WV. It consists of 2 floors and an attic space, in an 'L' shaped plan. Her bedroom is in what was the parlor. She said I could have any of the rooms upstairs. There are only three, one above hers, and the other two over the living room and kitchen, with the stair hall and landing in between the lone room and the suite.

The 'Suite' as I call it, is where I chose to have my bedroom set up. My room is on the front, while a smaller room with a large closet is in back. My room has the only door on the level, whereas the back had been sealed off by my mother a few months prior, herself having done the same duty. So after being there for a couple weeks, and the time was growing near to Thanksgiving, I took it upon myself to uncover the back room. I soon regretted this action. There became a feeling of being watched, at all hours. I shrugged it off.

Not long after this, my younger sister, Shannon, who at the time was only 13, came up to spend the weekend. We sat upstairs watching the Satellite television into the wee hours. Since there is only the bed I slept in, maw's bed, and the couch, I gave up my bed to my sister. I go downstairs and curl up on the couch and began reading, and I remember falling asleep to gentle tunes from my radio. I'm roused at 5am to her screaming! Shannon is one of those girls whose voice is so piercing you can hear it from two miles away. That is as loud as the town siren.

Up the stairs I come running. Searching the near empty chamber for a sign of her. Behind the chest of drawers I find her. Crying that someone is here. No one around, no noise of breath. Only the dying sounds of the whistle of a train. She begs me to stay, not to go onto the landing. As pitiful as she was, I held her, and helped her to her feet. We made it across the room then out into the hall, where she goes cold. Shannon is crying and babbling "Shane, a shadow is in the other room." I answer her, "I know, but that is just the Cherry trees from Main Street." It could have been, but unlikely, it was December. So we watch TV in the living room until sunup, when she finally fell asleep.

Christmas came and went, the New Year rang in and still the shadows were there. Moving about in that lone room's door. These continued in slightly declining numbers while she was gone. Then came the Argument, and my moving back home in late July of '08, but I will tell that later.

As I sit here at 2:30 something AM, I recall some incidents. Ones which occurred at my parent's house, in the south of Lincoln County. Events which happened mere feet away from this office chair and this screen I sit at with three lights burning. Even now I have a feeling of dread, turning back to look through the door to see if someone is there. The sounds this hole makes.

But back to my tales. It was mid-August, 2006. School was about to resume. One slight thing to tell you, my sister had a favorite toy that bounces. Perhaps you or your children had one. One of those Tigger dolls that bounce around and say things. To prevent it falling or worse, my stepfather nailed its ears into the ceiling, and its feet onto the entertainment stand upon which is stood.

One evening my mother is cooking dinner, and is talking with Shannon about the new medical show on TLC. Then an advertisement for 'a haunting' comes on, and Shannon begins making fun of the rapist ghost in the program. I'm just coming out from the bathroom, when I hear them scream. The Tigger doll had thrown itself at my sister, and it had been seen by my mother. Needless to say they stayed put; they waited until my stepfather came home from work. He didn't believe a word. He looks at the spot where the doll was, and asks why they put the nails back up in the holes.

A couple days later, my other sister, Ashley drops off my niece to spend a few months with us. My mom, having grown near bored with no children running around jumps at the moment. So we keep her for four or five months. During one cold evening, mom is in bed watching some reality programs; she has just put my niece down for a nap. Mom dozes away, she fades into light rest. Her eyes slowly open a minute later, and to her horror my niece is out of her bed. Now, you think why is this being told? Well, according to my mom, my niece was still sleeping, but she was being pulled under the great cherry four poster bed that mom was on.

Until four months ago I could hear it beneath the Milton house stairs. I heard it every day at random times. An always slightly out of tune version of 'Fur Elise'. Never sure why it was there, you just get use to such noises. All old houses have their quirks. But this sound was unreal. One morning, I find a beautiful old box on the shelving in that upstairs closet. A box I never noticed, but was in plain sight. I show it to Maw, and she places it on top of her big leather-bound Bible. The next day, I go to get her medicine, which she keeps in a cabinet, alongside the Bible. I notice the box is gone, and upon inquiring about it, she smiles and says she has no recollection of said box.

Later that night, once I have fallen asleep, I dream of a little girl jumping on the bed. I wake to a pressure on my chest. No known reason as to what it was. Never experienced it before and have not since. The box has not been found. I had a friend bring a friend of his to my house. She is supposed to be sensitive, but she dared not go onto the property.

It is now 3 am, and I have a feeling that if I continue I may not sleep tonight. So believe these or not, I leave it to you. But to me, they happened, and are still happening.

And for those who may be concerned, I have been sleeping downstairs on the couch. The upper floor has become a hotbed. And the feeling of being watched has spread to the newest part of the house, the bathroom. While you feel watched, you can hear during any time of day the creaking of the stairs behind the toilet, as the bathroom rear wall shares with the furnace room beneath the stairs. But I must now get off this PC.

These stories are not all, so they shall continue to be posted.