It was in the summer of 2006. I was working as a housekeeper at an old house that had been turned into an inn. We were told about some of the history of the house, why it was built and who it was built for. We were told about the tragic death of the man's wife, you know, the typical stuff that an employee may have to impart upon the guests. My second or third day there, I was cleaning a room that was next to the kitchen that had locks on both sides of the door between the kitchen and the room so that guests wouldn't get into the kitchen and mess with anything. The room hadn't had a guest for all of the off season, but there was a butter knife with fresh jelly on it lying on the bedside table. That freaked me out a little bit, but I put it out of my head and went about my work.
A couple of weeks later, I was cleaning the "Doll Room" by myself and heard a strange noise behind me. This room had a really old doll in it. I'd heard stories about how, from time to time, her dress would be in a different position, but I had turned around and her little rocking chair was moving. It wouldn't have scared me if the windows hadn't been closed.
The final straw of working at that inn occurred on a day when I was absolutely the only person in the inn. There were no guests, the owner was at lunch, the receptionist had quit earlier in the morning, and the other housekeeper had taken the sheets and towels to the Laundromat due to the washers being out of commission. I was cleaning the room called the "Lillian Room" named after the lady the house was built for, and I was in the bedroom's adjoining bathroom.
I'm cleaning the toilet and I hear a woman's voice coming from behind me. I can't remember what she said, probably wondering what I was doing there, and I threw down my cleaning supplies and ran outside until my friend/fellow housekeeper got back. I have honestly never been that scared in my life. I quit less than two weeks later.
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