Growing up in Corning, California, the Olive city, there wasn't really ever a lot that went on. The population was small, with only one movie theatre in town and no mall to speak of.
My parents were always going through a separation and then getting back together. There was never any real violence except for the yelling between the both of them, never directed towards my brother or I, just them at each other. Because of all the fighting and problems they had, my younger brother (by 2 years) and I would always end up staying at a relative's or friend's home until everything cleared.
One particular time, when I was around age 10, everything got out of control and my dad ended up going to jail for some time. Once again this had nothing to do with domestic violence, just other bad decisions he had made at the time.
Anyway, after he went to jail my mom took the two of us (being my brother and I) and went to stay at a friend's house. This friend of her's is now past away so, out of respectful purposes, I'll call him Marty. Marty had 2 daughters and had been family friends with my parents for years, since before I was born. His house seemed like a normal 3 bedroom 2 bathroom, family home on a small lot with a nice back yard and a garage. His daughters were also normal with no psych problems. I know this because I'm still close to the both of them.
I apologize if this story seems like it's drawing out but I just want to paint somewhat of a picture before going directly into the paranormal aspects, but we'll get there soon enough.
While living at Marty's with his daughters, my brother and I shared the big bedroom with the girls, while my mom had the guest room and Marty had his.
Let me explain the layout quickly, then on to the interesting stuff. When you walked into the house there was the living room. Directly off the living room was the dining room and kitchen area with a small laundry room. From the living room there was a hallway that had a door to the left and a door to the right. The door to the left was a closet that was never really used except to harbor the vacuum cleaner and the door to the right was the guest bedroom where my mom slept. Directly at the end of the hall was our room and to the left was Marty's room and two bathrooms.
Throughout the year that we lived with Marty and his daughters, I must have had at least a handful of events happen that I couldn't explain, maybe some of you can.
I remember waking up one night because I heard talking coming from down the hall in the kitchen area. I think I just laid there listening until sitting up and looking at our door. The bedroom was dark but not dark enough to cut off all sight. I remember seeing a light (like the glow from a TV) coming through the bottom of the door (which was always closed when we went to bed). I then recall noticing that the oldest girl who was my age at the time (10 years old or so) was sitting up also looking at the door. I said her name and she simply said, "Sounds like they're back again, they scare me." Then she asked if I could hear them and I said, "Yes, who is it?" and she said, "The little demons." Needless to say, I was a bit creeped out but also kind of like, "Yeah, whatever you're just trying to scare me." I just went back to sleep and so did she. There was more said I'm sure but I can't recall exactly.
When I told Marty the next day he just tried to joke and tell me that the monsters that live in his house aren't going to bother me as long as I go to bed on time. Wasn't very funny to a kid with a good imagination but I moved past it until the next week when I was outside playing by myself and I heard my mom (or what sounded like her) call my name as clear as if someone was standing next to you and said your name. Naturally I just replied "what?" My mom always hated when we just said "what" instead of coming to her when she called for us. I knew this, so I just stopped what I was doing and headed towards where she had called me from. I opened the screen door to the living room and called, "What, Mom?"...no response. As I was closing the screen door I heard her call my name again from the garage, so I ran to the garage door and opened it but no one was in there. So, of course, I started calling back for her but I never got an answer. I went back into the house to call for her and, on the counter in the kitchen, I found a note saying that she was out on some errands. Don't worry I wasn't home alone. Marty was there but he was in the shower the whole time and when I asked him if he had called me, he told me no.
Other small things in that house happened as well. For instance you would put something down and then it wouldn't be there. You would look all over for it and then find it exactly where you had put it in the first place. The closet door that had the vacuum cleaner would always open on its own, even if it was closed all the way. And sometimes, like I said earlier, I would hear small voices coming from the kitchen area. Honestly, I was always too scared to get out of bed and go look and see what it was.
Anyway, that's just one of my stories. I've got quite a few but I will share them some other time. Thank you for reading and hopefully you enjoyed it. I certainly didn't when it was happening.
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