Little Duplex Of Horrors... The Beginning

I've been reading stories on this site for a little over a year now, but this will be my first submission. I was able to relate to a lot of the stories told, which allowed me a sort of validation to the things I experienced in the little ol' duplex my family used to live in during my youth. This story describes the beginning of it all.

I had a wonderful childhood, and a had a large, wonderful family. There were 8 of us (my parents, my 3 sisters and I, my uncle and my aunt) crammed into a small 3 bedroom duplex in a town called Milpitas located at the north border of San Jose. It was our first home after immigrating from the Philippines in 1985. It was a home full of life, love, and laughter, despite the oppressive feelings the house would radiate. It was easy to ignore the unease, the shadows and forms you would see flitting about your peripherals, plants waving about as if they had a life of their own (no draft)...you know, the usual basic building blocks of your standard haunting.

We were a spiritual family, however reasonable. We brushed off most things as natural occurances, but there was a time that I was unable to deny that was indeed, paranormal.

Now 16, my family and I had been living in the house for about 9 years. The occurances had been happening occasionally (maybe once a week), but had remained stable. The feelings of oppression and intense fear, however, had increased in the garage and in the hallway, which was a straight line towards the direction of the garage door.

I was having a sleepover with a few of my friends. Lets call them Mai, Jey, and Ivy. Mai had a Ouija board that her mom got her from Toys 'R' Us. Please save the Ouija board lectures. I know now not to touch those things with a 10 ft pole, but back then, everyone thought it was just fun and games. Just another toy from the toy store.

At sometime late into the night, we decided to play with the board since my family had retired for the night, leaving us girls alone in the living room. We had the TV on, so I put it on mute (we didn't want to turn it off). We began the session by asking if anyone was with us, and proceeded with the usual questions once we thought we had contact. I wish I could remember the questions and answers, but to be completely honest, I wasn't paying too much attention.

I became impatient and bored and thought that for sure, SOMEONE was moving the planchette. I said something to the effect of "Boring! This is a waste of time", and flipped the board over like a jerk, abruptly cutting off the session. Not even a minute later, the TV turns off and begins making an excrutiatingly loud, piercing screech. I scramble for the remote and try to turn it off. The remote fails, so I try the power button on the tv, but to no avail. I franticly squeeze behind the entertainment center to unplug the darn thing, but the TV is still screaming bloody murder. At that point, we were terrified.

We ran outside to the front yard, and stood and stared in horror at living room window, listening to the blaring noise coming from the tv. We waited for what seemed like eternity until the noise stopped. We went back in with caution, not knowing what to expect. The air inside was hot and really heavy, which was strange for a chilly fall night. I approached the TV, imagining it to be like some sort of monster waiting to pounce. I plugged it back in and pressed the power button. It worked just fine. My friends and I stood speechless, silently trying to make sense of it all. What was really strange is that recently, Mai and I talked about this specific incident and realized just then that none of the other 7 members of my family heard a thing. The walls were thin in that duplex. You could hear someone shifting in their bed from the living room (the moving of sheets, and the squeaking of the mattress). Yet not one person came out to tell us to keep it down or check what was going on.

I believe this incident is responsible for intensifying the activity in that little ol' duplex, leaving me with memories of terror mixed in with good. These memories I will share with you in my stories to follow.