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Nightmare on my street Part one

Our street on a wet but sunny day
Our street on a wet but sunny day
J. Bauer

This week we take you to a plain little house on a plain little street here in the Springs. 

Built in 1955 and like the neighboring houses it has a craftsman style and strange, close floor plan from a time before feng shuei flow entered our collective minds. And it's haunted.

Maybe you've wondered what kind of person researches haunted places for a living? It helps, of course, if they've spent the past six years renting a haunted house.

It's not a terribly gory or frightening haunting. Disturbing is a better word. Peace of mind is fleeting at best and comes rarely because the feeling of someone else around that you don't see fully and can't really communicate with is oftentimes irking. 

Not even being 100 per cent sure who it is even is unsettling. It drove the last tenant to paranoid distraction and violent outbursts. The police have a record of numerous calls from the house asking to check out a 'prowler' in the bushes.

They left suddenly one day, leaving some furniture and numerous repairs to be done with holes punched into the walls, electrical outlets pulled from their places, and signs of thrown dishes. Presumably in a frustrated effort to find what was making the noises in the walls and the cause of the flickering lights.

Those still occur. 

For a few days this week the articles will portray a normal day and night in a local haunted house.

4:30 AM; Something has woken us up again and after a few minutes listening to the darkness our eyes adjust and a deeper blackness in one of the corners of the bedroom ceiling moves!

It flows slowly around the upper corners and out into the hallway. The children murmur in their sleep briefly but after about five minutes nothing further happens and we drift back to sleep.

6:00 AM the cats are complaining about something in their cat way. Running back and forth yowling to be let out. It's too early to do that the foxes and raccoons are still prowling the alleys checking the trash cans for scraps. It's trash day.

Not able to get back to sleep, Coffee is started and the old pipes rattle as the various faucets facilitate our senses with some cold splashes to our face and showers. The sprinklers come on adding to the low hum. One of us dashes through them with the trash. Full but forgotten chore of last night. Kids.

Starting some toast we hear footsteps upstairs. Upstairs is the attic, unused by us, and no one resides there, but the rhythmic creaking of the ceiling boards is plain. We ignore them as the browned sour dough emits a more comforting smell and butter is applied.

10:00 AM it's time to work. Both work from home and the kids are home too for summer break so there's no rushing to prepare lunches or get out the door to avoid traffic but bills must be paid and computers switched on. Plenty of coffee is in supply and daily chores re evaluated for the kids. We put our ghost out of our minds for the day...mostly.


  • Patricia 5 years ago

    oh, I love it....a personal story...can't wait for the next one.

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