Voices In The Wardrobe

Until I was 8years old I lived with my parents and younger sister in an old, victorian house. As long as I can remember there were always paranormal events in this house such as footsteps on the landing, doors closing by themselves etc but as my parents were aware of the happenings and felt no threat neither did me or my sister and we grew up accepting it.

My mother often told the story of how, when she lived alone in the house (before she married my father) she always used to see the ghost of a little girl when she was sat watching TV in the living room. This little girl used to appear sat beside her on the sofa on more than one occasion. Unfortunately she never elaborated on anything more than that.

I remember when I was around 6-7 years old, myself and my sister were hanging upside down off one of the sofas in the living room. This sofa was at an angle that was facing the living room door. I remember hanging upside down and seeing a man stood in the doorway. He was tall with brown curly hair and wore glasses, dressed in a brown jacket and trousers, as opposed to my father who isn't that tall, has short hair and never has worn glasses. I felt no threat by him and, upon seeing him stood there, thought nothing of it. Needless to say he had vanished when I turned myself the right way up!

It was strange because I never felt scared in the house up until my parents decided to move. It was as if, once the decision had been made to put the house up for sale, a flick was switched.

Now the upstairs to the house was quite simple. You go up the stairs to the top to a landing. The bathroom is on the left and down the rest of the landing on the right were 3 bedrooms.

One day me and my sister were playing hide and seek. I went and hid in my wardrobe in my bedroom. I thought it was a brilliant hiding place until I heard a loud female voice in my ear. I can't remember what she said but I do remember that it sounded like a snippet of conversation from a time long gone. I shot out of that wardrobe as fast as I could.

From then on I got a bad feeling about the upstairs in that house. It eventually got to the point where I couldn't go up there by myself. The feeling that something scary was up there was far too strong for my liking. Nothing else happened to me, but the ominous invisible presence that I could feel upstairs was enough. Whether my parents or sister felt it as well, I don't know as I've never asked. Happily we moved soon after to a newer, less haunted house.