A Stranger In My House


There is a stranger in my house-one that has been keeping me up at night.

I have been a skeptic, but it is time to face the fact…my house has a ghost.

Shortly after moving in, my grandmother had come over to help organize.  She came a few days and then, suddenly, started coming up with excuses not to come over.  I was later told by my mother that my grandma heard noises when she was in the house and it creeped her out.  I thought, “Crazy old lady,” and wrote it off.

A couple of years later, Larry moved in.  Larry and I worked conflicting schedules for a while and he spent a lot of time late at night alone while the rest of us were sleeping.  He heard noises.  Larry, a big believer in ghosts, was determined to make me believe that there was something in the house.  I never heard what he heard and laughed it off.

Now, I have heard some noises and had moments when I wondered what was going on, but I always shook them off believing there was an explanation.  One night, I was in bed and heard footsteps coming up the stairs and into my room.  My younger daughter was notorious back then for waking up and coming to get me to get in her bed, or crawl in mine, so I thought nothing of the steps.  The steps stopped next to me and could feel someone there; I rolled over to talk to my child only to find no one there.

Then, Sunday night, I had a lot of trouble sleeping.  It was too hot.  Then I would get cold.  I tossed and turned.  Finally, I started to doze off and felt a hand on my face.  It was enough to wake me and I was sure that it was Larry was messing with me (he likes to poke me, tickle me, and harass me when I start to snore).  I was angry; I had finally fallen asleep to have that happen?  I fussed at Larry and asked, “What did you do that for?!”  Larry started to stir; he had been fast asleep.  There was no way that he could have put his hand on my face.  I was a bit irritated and a little taken aback, but figured there had to be an explanation.

I have no explanation for last night.  My dog had come upstairs with me and went to sleep in his bed beside of mine.  I fell asleep listening to him snore.  Larry came up to bed after we had both fallen to sleep.  I woke up at around 3am; my dog was making more noise than just his normal snore-nothing major, but it was kind of a quiet bark.  Then I heard something hit the wall.  I thought Larry had thrown a pillow at the dog, but he was asleep.  I thought maybe I had knocked a pillow off my bed and the noise was one hitting the floor.  I turned the flashlight on my cell phone on to see what it was.  There was a shirt on the dog’s bed.  Larry keeps his dirty clothes on his side of the room; the shirt was Larry’s and came from the other side of the room.  It wasn’t there when we went to bed and Larry didn’t throw it.  At this point, I was freaking out.  Larry woke up and was asking what was wrong.  I could not even talk about it for around fifteen minutes; I let the dog out and got water while trying to process what had happened.

I would love to say that I had some explanation for the events of the week.  I just have to accept that some things cannot be explained, including why it decided to make an appearance now-one theory is that it doesn’t like my new kitchen floor.  I don’t have a reason for it touching me or throwing a shirt across the room either; maybe, it just had to be bold for me to finally believe.

The stranger is here and I suppose it is here to stay.  It made its introduction; I guess I should not consider it a stranger, but accept it as just another member of my crazy household.  Now, if it will only allow me to get a good night’s sleep.


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