My story takes place in the Cumberland Mountains of Tennessee, about 60 or 70 miles from Chattanooga. The summer of 2008 was a really hard one for me, my boyfriend was in jail and I hated being home alone so I went to stay with my aunt, who has grandchildren close to my age. I figured it would be good for me.
They lived in an old house that was kind of run down, but auntie got a deal on rent and the size was perfect for her and several girls. We were rarely alone in that house, teenagers hung out all the time but sometimes on Friday or Saturday nights we would have a few hours of peace and we would shoot pool in the basement or play cards.
One night, around midnight, my uncle and I were the only ones in the basement and he was shooting pool, I was just sitting at the little card table we had down there. I was so quiet in that house, quieter than usual. Things just seemed tense, like it was about to storm. I was trying to relax to go to bed and not having much luck; I was pretty much lost in thought when someone whispered my name. It was so soft, I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman's voice, but I know it wasn't my uncle because he didn't have a clue.
Other creepy things happened in that house, but none of them had been directed at me until then. I told my uncle I didn't feel so well and that I was going to my house for a couple of days and I left that night. A day later, the house burned to the ground and my cousin, the only person in the house at the time, barely escaped. Guess where the fire started? In the room where I slept, caused by faulty wires.
I have cold chills right now thinking about it, because at night I take a medication called seroquel, which makes me sleep very heavily. If I hadn't have gotten so creeped out and left, I might have died in the fire!
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