This "ghost story" begins before I was born; it was my mother who first had experiences when she was young. I live in a relatively small town that dates back at least 1000 years, and has more than its fair share of ghosts and other paranormal goings on.
When my mother was about 10 she began to experience a feeling of something watching her, where ever she went in the house she lived in with her parents. She was the youngest of ten children, though no one else ever had these experiences, only her. At night she would hear footsteps clearly walking up the stairs and banging when no one else was in the house, the house had a very large garden which my grandmother loved so my mum was often in the house alone. The years went by and the experiences got more and more common until, she says, they happened almost every day.
She researched the houses history and discovered it was built between the wars and had one previous owner before our family acquired it. The woman who owned it before had died in the house and so had my Grandmother's first husband. My mother, though, was content that neither of these were malevolent so she was not too worried.
Once she began to ignore the ghostly bumps and bangs they began to become less and less frequent. One night however, when she was 16, my Grandmother left my mother alone to go to a friend's birthday party. (Her older siblings moved out and her Dad working nights.) She was sat in the living room and got the feeling of being watched again and then heard footsteps on the stairs so she asked if anyone was there and the big living room window flew open and the fire was blown out by the huge gust of wind. She told her Mother, but she put it down to the storm at the time, which I suppose it could have been.
3 years later, my Mother was pregnant with me and though she was in the process of moving in with my Dad she was still with her parents. She wanted to borrow a book from the library and was in the hurry as it was 5 minutes from closing. She ran into her room, grabbed her card and as she made her way out, pushed a solid, black, floating, hooded figure out the way. It wasn't until she was on her way back from the library that she realised what she had done. Upon returning to her room there was nothing there.
She moved out shortly after and I was born in August that year. She had no new experiences at the new house and soon forgot about it. However My Grandmother had a heart attack Christmas Day that year and died in February the next. Not wanting to leave my Grandad alone we moved back into the house.
The knocks and footsteps continued, my mother was the only one to hear them at first, but as I grew up I began to hear them too. We were the only two to hear them, but she was glad I could confirm what she heard. When I was 7 my little brother was born and so we had to move out due to lack of room, moving into our current house a few weeks before Christmas.
My grandad tired to keep the house best he could, particularly my Grans beloved garden, but soon after the birth of my second little brother his health failed him. He was diagnosed with cancer and died within the year. It was after his death that the paranormal experiences began to take a nasty twist to them. Me and Mum visited the house soon after his death to decorate is for Christmas and felt very uneasy. After we'd finished we went up to my mum's old room and as soon as we entered felt a sudden feeling of dread and felt as if something was telling us to "Get out!"
Spooked we quickly left. We soon sold the house to a family friend who reported knocks and bangs right away. Though, it was only her and her son who heard them. Her daughters and husband never heard a thing. However things began to move and glasses and plates would break if left on the kitchen alone.
They also neglected the garden, and the more the garden was neglected the worse the damp and dry rot got in the house, progressing at what several professionals called "An unnaturally fast rate". The damp and dry rot also refused repair. Becoming desperate they tried to sell the house though unsurprisingly, it would not sell.
In the end they decided to demolish it and rebuild it. Not wanting to see it destroyed, my Mum and her siblings all chipped in and bought the house back. The activity died down a bit, but not much, though we were able to fix the garden and damp and dry rot.
We converted the house into an Inn, and though we expected a paranormal reaction to it, the ghosts or whatever it is, didn't seem to mind and in fact it has now gone back to the levels my Mother experienced as a child, the only problem being my mum's old room, it still feels uneasy and several guests report feeling it with some even saying they have seen the shadow. I myself have seen it a few times in that room.
So I guess this story is on going really, though we don't really want to get rid of whatever is in that room; a haunted pub attracts customers.
Thank you for taking the time to read this,
Stefan.
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