Carmen

It was July of 1984 when I lived in my apartment house. To date this was the most haunting I have had in one period of time. I lived in town, and in an apartment house. Carmen and her husband Bill lived upstairs; they were my landlord's parents. They were in their eighties.

Carmen was healthy and could still drive on her Sunday mornings, and Bill was mostly blind and somewhat deaf. She was mostly taking care of him in their old age. They seemed to like me and saw me as protection for them with me living in the basement.

One July day I came home to find that she had died on the way to the hospital during a heart attack. This left Bill all alone and stayed living there for three months with assisted living helping him at times during the day.

This is when I got visitors in the basement, with many occurrences. But the most predominate ones were what followed for the next six months. The first one happened one night when I was in bed and trying to fall asleep. I jumped after hearing a loud thump on top of my dresser next to me, sounding like a small firecracker. It happened again a minute later. Frightened at this point I turned on the light and stared at my dresser to hear it go off again, and not seeing anything. I was prepared to flee the apartment when it stopped, and never heard it again.

The second was a Saturday night when I was getting ready to go out for the evening. I had the stereo on and was shaving when the phone rang, so I turned the volume down to answer the phone and then continued to shave in the bathroom when I heard this heavy crash in the living room.

I rushed out to see my large painting lying on the floor. I finished my call and went to see where the hook fell off. That is when I was blown away to see that all the hooks were in tact both on the wall and the picture. The hooks were at least an inch and a half. Meaning that picture had to rise up and over those hooks to fall down. How could this be done? Not vibration from volume as I turned it down low.

The next event was one Saturday morning I got up and left early to help my Dad clean his garage. I came home around six that night looking at my mail. My living room "cookoo" clock went off. When I looked it said 2 o'clock. I went to change my clothes and noticed my bedroom clock read 3:15. I then ran to my office and looked at that clock and that read 12:25.

All different times and they were all correct when I left that morning. I then wondered if the Landlord was here messing with the electrical, or our power was out for awhile. So I went up to ask Bill, and he said no one was here all day and there was no interruption of the electrical, nor was anybody here at all. My door was locked and I had fresh batteries to keep the time in the clocks of my office and bedroom. Someone had to change them. I could not explain this.

After three months Bill was moved to a rest home and was vacant upstairs. I know this for I went up to look at it, as I was considering to moving up there. There was not a stitch of furniture in the place.

It was nights later when I was sleeping, when the biggest fright occurred. I was sleeping, and woke up to noise upstairs. This did not alarm me as I was used to hearing their TV blaring to the "700 Club" that aired at that time on NBC. I had got used to it for all the days I slept in the bedroom below their living room.

As usual I just turned over to get back to sleep when reality kicked in and made me jump out of bed. There was no one around, or living upstairs. I turned on the light and paced the floor still hearing the TV above me. The hairs on my neck stood up. I had to make sure I was not dreaming and kept pinching myself as I knew that everyone was going to say I was just dreaming. I was fully awake and experiencing this haunt. It was incredible. I remember saying to myself that this type of stuff happens to other people.

This was my first traumatic paranormal experience. I then heard the program finishing, and like usual I heard the tiny light footsteps of the frail old Carmen walking the floor and turning off a TV, that is not there. Then I heard something I never heard before and that was the rocking of a rocking chair. That was new to me. I then had to check it out and walked upstairs to find that it was dark in the door window. I turned the handle, and it was locked. I then walked outside to check the front door and windows.

Fresh snow was falling and I saw no entry or footprints anywhere. I went back down stairs, and never heard a thing the rest of the night. And yes I did stay! It was then I was wondering if the haunting were of Carmen.

Then the kicker happened. I have a friend that came over after we went to see a movie. He was going to stay for an hour, but after five minutes, he looked upset and left abruptly. I never spoke of this to him or anyone for a long time. And after a year it came up. I told him of the story of my happening of my house. He then told me of the night he was over, and why he left. He confided in me as a religious person, that he has the ability to sense the presence of the dead in different places. He had been there before but never had the feeling. That night he said "I felt a presence in your bedroom, and not that it was evil", it was just that it made him feel very uncomfortable. That is when our stories jived. I felt that I had my proof that is just was not me.

Now going back to after the TV experience, it was soon after that I had noticed that nothing more was happening and perhaps the haunting stopped. I then got the news that Bill had died a few weeks earlier. I then put it all together. I found out that they met when they were young kids and stayed together all of these years. She was not leaving without Bill. And since he could not see or hear very well she was trying to communicate with me.

All things that happened were harmless and kind of prankish. So I had to conclude this as a love story. When Bill died, they left together for the light and left the house. I lived there many more years without an incident. And my friend was back over with a clear feeling that the house was normal. All is well in the story of Love.