I Grew Up in a Haunted House

This is a true story. I grew up in an average house, not too old, in Chesapeake, Virginia. I was so young that I don’t remember moving there. My memories from the trailer to the house were blended together and I can’t remember the events in between.

Has that ever happened to you? Like I said, I don’t remember how I got there. I was just there.

Spirits have never really bothered me much. I was always around them, and my imaginary friend, Molly, was a guide of mine. I was used to seeing things that others couldn’t see.

A random old man in overalls and an oversized hat smiling at me in the kitchen. Or the same man on my swing set in the backyard or pushing me on my tire swing. I was okay with being alone, because truthfully, I was never really alone.

My mom was in a new relationship with a man that I ended up calling my father. He had two daughters of his own, and they came to live with us. I suddenly found myself with two sisters and my ghosts. I will call them Sarah and Ashley to protect their identities.

Things were normal for a long time. Then one night, I woke up and saw a shadow man in my doorway. I have never seen a ghost that couldn’t show me their face, and this was the first. I had never been afraid of the paranormal until now. The fact that it wouldn’t show me its face troubled me a great deal.

What did it have to hide? I took a deep breath and got the courage to stand up to close the door. I was the oldest, and I felt like it was my duty to keep my sisters safe. Sarah was a year younger, and Ashley was two years younger.

When I awoke again, the door was wide open, and there he was. Just standing there, staring at us while we slept. The feeling was much more ominous and I didn’t waste my time to try and shut the door.

I was too scared, so I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to ignore it and go to sleep. Sarah ended up coming under the blanket with me and told me that she could see him too, and she was petrified. I was shocked, I thought I was the only one who could see the shadow man, but I was wrong.

Ashley was sound asleep, so we didn’t bother her. Sarah and I decided that we should ignore him and maybe he would go away. He never made a sound or hurt us, but it was hard to fall asleep with the feeling of being watched. Eventually, the shadow man didn’t come everyday. Then he stopped showing up. Maybe our plan worked.

One night, my sisters and I heard our piano playing in the living room. My mom was the only one who knew how to play, so we started to walk down the hallway to see what she was up to. All of the lights were off, which was really weird. Why would my mom be playing in the dark?

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as we stepped into the living room. As soon as we did, the music stopped. We looked at each other in a stunned silence. There was no way that the three of us were crazy! I looked at the piano and noticed the key cover was open, ran over and slammed it shut, and we ran back to the room. The three of us shared a bed that night and hid under the blanket until morning.

Not even thirty minutes later, we heard the piano again, and this time we walked down the hallway in hopes of catching who it was before it stopped. As soon as we stepped into the room, it stopped.

When I looked in, I saw that the cover was open, and I freaked out and ran back to the bedroom. My sisters followed. When we heard the piano again, we decided to ignore it. We didn’t get any sleep that night. I know we weren’t dreaming either. My sisters and I still remember this incident and talk about it sometimes. Years later, my sisters moved back home with their mom.

As a teenager, I was alone in my room doing my homework. I liked to listen to music to help keep me focused and decided to listen to my new Beethoven CD. The song Moonlight Sonata in the 1st Movement came on. My pencil broke, and I could feel my face blanching.

This was the song that we heard being played on the piano in the middle of the night. Even though I was scared out of my wits, I didn’t turn it off. I put the song on repeat and studied every note, reliving the memory. The next time I talked to them, I played the song and they both freaked out. The song has stayed with me since, and I even listened to it on repeat while typing this story.

Shit didn’t stop there. In my living room, we had this massive window that you could see the reflection of the kitchen in it whenever you sat on the couch at night. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone move from one side of the kitchen to the other. Freaked me out a bit, but I kept quiet because, at this point, I was so used to seeing and hearing things that I didn’t see the need to say anything.

Then one night, we all were sitting on the couch watching TV, and I could see my dad’s face, and his reaction from looking at the window told me that he saw it too.

“So, you saw it?” I asked.

“Wh-what? You mean you have seen it too?”

My parents and I talked about how we saw the shadow moving in the kitchen, but we were all afraid to say anything. Some of my close friends who have been to my house have seen it too.

These were just some of the more profound experiences that I’ve had in my haunted house. There were many other experiences but I can’t possibly go through them all unless I write a proper book on it. Now that I’m an adult, I still think about that house.

We don’t live there, but I have checked on it over the years to see if it was on the market. It looks like the current owner is still renting it out, or if someone new bought it, they are happy where they are. Would I buy it if it was for sale? I’m not sure, but a disturbed part of me misses my ghosts.