I wrote about this briefly in a prior article in 2001. To recap: we moved into 455a sackett street when I was 14 years old, on april 1, 1998. from the moment we moved in, something was so not right. It was an incredibly dark apartment... though we should have been thrilled because it was the first apartment we'd ever had with more than one floor. There were three floors (including the basement) and it was nice, if you could ignore the feeling of someone standing just behind you, or staring at you wherever you went.
Within two weeks of moving in, I was raped in my own bedroom by a man from the neighborhood. An elderly woman who'd lived right next store for most of our life informed us that no one had occupied our apartment for more than a year at a time since as long as she could remember... she also related that terrible tragedies befell all of said people, within only a few weeks of moving in, continuing through the day they moved out.
Though we all had eerie feelings in the apartment, we'd not noticed anything too weird. The apartment was very uninviting, cold and damp. We tried to decorate it, warm it up a little, but nothing helped. Another thing was that no matter what we did, we could not get a phone installed. we had the phone company over about 4 times to fix the wires, but no matter what they did, we would get absolutely nothing, not even static. so we were pretty isolated.
The entire time we were there, weird happenings continued. The ceiling above my brothers bed collapsed. The only reason he wasn't hurt is because he got up to use the bathroom. A fire started in my room, the fire department never determined why. If my friend hadn't stopped by and rang my bell, I would of continued sleeping. Within 5 minutes of answering the bell, my neighbor came out screaming that my room was on fire. I ran up and the entire back wall was in flames. I tried to put it out with a blanket and (unbeknownst to me) the door had closed behind me. It went from daylight to dark in two minutes and I started to pass out. Thankfully, my friend ran up and opened the door, carrying me down the stairs or I would have been literal toast.
After that, my neighbor confided in us that "strange things" have always gone on in my building. In the 30's or 40's, a fire had killed a little boy within a month of the family moving in, in the 60's, a couple were "whacked" by the mob because of some insidious affair. There were no records because the church's records had been burned in a fire so we couldn't get anymore information than what people said.
There were other things that happened, a friend of mine coming into my apartment and seeing a little boy in burnt rags staring at her in my bathroom mirror.. she ran out crying and refused to set foot in my door again. Another friend who slept over (note: both friends were not told of our experiences) and awoke in the middle of the night swearing that she saw a woman walk into my room through the door.
My brother and I heard children crying and laughing one day downstairs, and when we tried to leave my mother's room, we were locked in, event though there was no lock, for an hour before it finally opened. My mother was downstairs doing the laundry when the lights turned off in the basement and she felt a cold, scaly hand grab her shoulder. Needless to say, my dad did the laundry after that... weird smells, sounds, and the feeling that something, or someone, did not want you there. That something bad was going to happen to you, and that you were not welcome at all.
We moved out a year to the day later, as soon as we could find a new apartment. We found out some more after that. The people that moved in after us tried to renovate the basement, and found the body of a little boy in the wall. They left suddenly one night not too long after and never returned. Another couple moved in and left as inexplicably as the last. And so on and so forth to this day.
Since then, we met a woman whom had gone to my mother's office (she's a nurse that works in a doctors office) because of a nervous condition. My mother noticed the address on her insurance card didn't match the one listed, and the woman explained she had only lived at 55a sackett street for a few months, and had to leave because her mother had died along with various other tragedies from the 1st week of moving in. My mother asked if the woman ever noticed anything weird... well, the woman explained exactly what we had gone through, perhaps the cause of her condition?
We are all fine now, happy to be out of there and we've moved on. We still see our old neighbor once in a while, and she always says the best thing we ever did was move out of that god forsaken house. Needless to say, we agree. We've not been haunted since, and life is good. If there is one thing we learned, I'd say it was to trust our instincts. If you get horrible vibes from a place, don't put it off as folly... it might just save you a whole lot of trouble.
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