It Wasn't Me, It Was George

I've given a little background on my childhood home and the ongoing activity in my first story. This is an experience that scared and baffled me for years. It still does.

The house I grew up in was active since day one of my family moving in (and still is). Immediately after moving in, my father started renovating, so I'm sure that kicked up the activity. For some reason, my mother named our resident ghost "George". We feel there is more than one spirit, but anytime something strange happened, George was blamed. I say more than one spirit because we've heard several different voices over the years; An older male, a child-like voice and a woman. I know they could all be the same spirit, but it feels like several.

This particular experience happened when I was about 13. At the time we had a toy poodle named Curly. A bit off subject, but I remember Curly was a pain in the butt. The type of dog that no matter what, refused to potty train or learn basic commands Lol Anyway, when Curly was due for a bath, we would do it in the basement where there was a large laundry sink. Being the eldest (my brothers are 6 years and 3 years younger than me) it was usually my job to bathe Curly. I absolutely hated going in the basement alone. You always felt as if you were being watched and never truly alone. As usual, I tried to get out of it, making up excuses as to why I couldn't give Curly his bath. Finally, my mother threatened to ground me and take away privileges if I didn't "Get my butt down there". I finally grabbed the shampoo, towel and Curly, and headed downstairs to the basement.

As I rushed through his bath, I remember hearing my parents chatting and laughing in the living room upstairs. Just as I finished up, I heard my mother start the vacuum. Suddenly, the lights in the basement went out. I was plunged into complete darkness, the kind where you can't see your hand in front of your face. To say I was terrified is putting it mildly. I froze, hoping it was an accident and that they would come right back on. After a few minutes, I started yelling "Turn the lights back on!" over and over. Of course, my parents didn't hear me at first because of the vacuum. I couldn't move, I just kept yelling and crying. Finally, I heard the vacuum turn off and my mother yelling back "What?". I hollered at her to turn the lights back on. I heard her walk to the basement door which is off the kitchen. She flipped the lights on and said "Well why did you turn them off?". Umm what? I grabbed Curly and raced up the stairs, blubbering about how mean they were to do that.

My parents actually started to laugh and said something along the lines of "What? You turned the lights off!" They thought I had pulled some kind of prank (some prank!). After I carried on, crying and accusing, they finally realized I didn't do it. The strangest part of all this? They thought I had done it because there were 3 drip marks above the light switch. Drip marks that made it appear as if a wet hand had touched the wall right before sliding down to turn the switch off. I was giving the dog a bath, so they assumed it was me as my hands would be wet.

In case you're wondering if it could have been one of my brothers, they were not home at the time. They were at a family members house having a sleepover with cousins. I remember when my parents realized it wasn't me as their faces became quite serious and they became quiet. They apologized and my mother tried to make light of George pulling a prank. But George's "prank's" were never funny. They still aren't. To this day, my father still tells that story. Jeez, I have a lot of stories to tell!