I guess I'm just going to jump right into it. I will add that up until this very creepy, unexplainable experience I was a huge skeptic. I guess you could probably still consider me one. I've shared my story with only a few close family members and friends. I do believe the lot of them thinks I'm freaking nuts. I thought if I shared my story with those who are open to the possibility that ghosts/spirits are real, perhaps I'd receive better (nicer) criticism than what my family and friends had to offer me.
It was May of 2005 and my grandfather, Papa as we liked to call him, had just recently undergone quadruple bypass surgery. He was in need of a helping hand around the house while he was recovering and, with other family members not being able to get the necessary amount of time off of work I offered to fly from Michigan to Chesapeake Beach, Maryland with my three month old daughter to help care for him. It was a good excuse to take another month off of work and for my grandfather and other family members to finally meet the newest addition to the family. Long story short, he recovered nicely with no complications.
Let me quickly explain the layout of my grandfather's house to you as it does come in handy when mentally picturing what I would experience one evening during my stay. It was a ranch style home designed by my grandparents and built in 1989. When you enter the home from the garage (no one ever used the front door) you were greeted by a small hallway. To the left was the laundry room, to the right was the guest bathroom and directly ahead was the family room with a walk out deck that stretched the entire back of the house. To the right of the family room was the kitchen and just past the kitchen was the dining room with double doors that also open up to the back deck. Make another right, you've got the living room and off to the left were all of the bedrooms and bathrooms.
During my stay I thought it would be wise to sleep in the family room instead of the spare guest bedroom. It gave me more room for the portable crib, baby swing and other random baby toys and accessories. It also offered easy access to the kitchen for late night feedings. I was far enough away from my grandfather's room that if the baby cried, he most likely wouldn't hear it. Perfect!
So, it's about 2:30 a.m. (I don't remember the exact date) and the baby had awoken in need of a change and feeding like any other night. By the time I'd finished caring for her and she'd nodded back off to sleep it's now closer to 3 a.m. I lay her down in the portable crib next to the pull out sofa, turn the light off in the kitchen and lay back down myself. Unfortunately, I'm wide awake now so I decide to flip through the channels on the TV in search of a rerun or sappy movie to help lull me back to sleep. After about five to ten minutes of channel surfing I begin to hear noises coming from back in the dining room. Not sure as to what it was I was actually hearing, I turn the volume down on the TV. Silence... It was probably a good minute or two of laying there listening to nothing when it started again. Only this time it was louder. I called out for my grandfather with no response. The noise I'm hearing is definitely coming from the dining room; the sound of jiggling door handles. Someone's trying to open the double doors.
Now I'm really freaking out as my first reaction is that someone is trying to break into the house. I call out again for my grandfather with, yet again, no response. I have no view of the kitchen or dining room as I'm too freaked out to lift my head and peer over the back of the couch. All I'm thinking now is that all of the blinds are shut and I triple checked to make sure all of the doors were locked. If someone were trying to break in from the back deck I'd have plenty of time to grab the baby and make a run out through the garage to the neighbors, hopefully without being seen. And that's when the house fell silent again. I can't tell you how long I laid there, scared stupid, as it seemed like forever. There were no more jiggling door handles; absolutely no commotion coming from outside. I finally mustered the courage to lift myself up and peer into the dark kitchen. With the dim light of the TV I was able to make out the doors in the dining room as well. They were shut, locked up tight, and all was quiet and calm. I laid my head back down on my pillow and that's when the footsteps started.
My grandfather's home is completely carpeted with the exception of the bathrooms and the kitchen. The kitchen has linoleum flooring and after 16 years the floorboards had started to creak. These footsteps started at the entrance to the kitchen from the dining room and made their way ever so slow and steady across the linoleum floor towards the family room where I lay frozen solid; the hair standing up on my arms and back of my neck. They stopped just short of reaching the back of the couch. And that was it. No more noise. No more footsteps. Whatever it was never retreated back in the direction it had come from. There was nothing. Once again I'm left laying there waiting, listening, and completely freaked out, heart pounding out of my chest. The really weird thing was that those feelings of panic didn't last long at all. I was soon welcomed by an almost overwhelming sense of calm and peacefulness and I eventually fell asleep.
And that's my story. It's kind of boring compared to some of the other stories I've read on this site prior to posting this but I thought I'd share it anyway. I certainly cannot explain it. I should probably note that my grandmother had passed away in her sleep in this home in 1998. Although I can't tell you how many times I'd spent the night there after her passing and never once experienced anything like that before. What are your thoughts? Thanks for reading.
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