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"They say it's the scariest house EVER!" the woman explained, gesturing to the house across the street. "It's not a really old house, but it was recently sold, and the new owners put all new windows in, and ever since they did, the house has seemed to come to life, and everyone is afraid of it, the owners even moved out."
I stared hard at the light gray exterior of the old rambler, tilting my head left then right, trying hard to see something that would suggest it was anything more than a regular house. Watching me carefully, the woman smiled and with widening eyes motioned for me to follow her into her home, she seemed excited about whatever thought had just come to her.
I followed the woman into her house, through the living room, down the hall, and into the bedroom of a young boy (son or grandson, I couldn't be sure which since her age suggested she could be a young grandmother). I didn't know this woman, I didn't know how I came to be at her home, I only knew that I was driven by curiosity to follow her and to find out more about "the scariest house ever".
Walking past the young boy, who looked to be about 8, as he sat upon his bed, we walked to the large picture window in his room. The window was on the south side of the home, and as the woman drew open the curtains, I discovered that the room had a perfect view of the afore mentioned house across the street.
"Now watch." she said with eager anticipation, "look at the windows."
I fixed my eyes on the equally sized picture window of the other house, half doubting anything of worth would happen, when suddenly I saw movement in the curtains.
"Close the curtains please!" the boy moaned from behind me, "It scares me.
Soon the curtains parted just enough to relieve, what appeared to be, the figure of a woman in a dress. I tried to hard to focus on the image as my heart raced, but try as I may, the form never became entirely clear to me.
"She may never look completely whole to you." the woman chuckled, "Everyone seems to be able to get as far as you are now when watching from the other side of a window, like in a house or a car that's passing by, but she never comes into full focus." The woman's tone suddenly drew more serious. "Except to me."
I turned my gaze from the scene before me and gave her a questioning look. Her face was solemn and I detected a hint of fear in her. Without needing to voice my questions, the woman move to the answers as she turned and headed for the door.
"For some reason I can see her fine, and she watches me from her house. Sometimes she stands on the porch, but usually she just stands at the windows." As we walked from the room, the boy leaped from beneath the covers of the bed (where I assumed he went once the request for the curtains to remain shut had been made) and ran to the window to pull the curtains closed. A tinge of guilt washed over me for having forgotten his request to shut the curtains, but he just ran out of the room after us and didn't seem too effected, so I drew my attention back to my guide.
As I followed the woman, I found we were walking back to the living room and heading once again outside. Pulling the door open we stepped out on to the porch and I turned to say something to the woman, but her sad expression and eyes locked on something (I could only assume it to be the house that now stood behind me), made me forget my train of thought. I followed her gaze as I turned once again to the house and gasped at what I beheld.
My knees got weak, my heart raced, and a chill ran up my spin. I couldn't find my voice let alone coherent words to vocalize, but somehow I managed a small mousy squeak to escape form my throat. There on the front porch of the house stood a woman in a light colored floral dress. She was old, and she wore her gray hair up in a bun. Her eyes burned into me and I could tell without having to ask, that I was indeed beholding the fully focused image of the woman I had seen in the window before.
I could feel the woman behind me pulling on my arm trying to get me to turn around and saying things I couldn't understand, but I couldn't seem to react. I wasn't sure if I was afraid to take me eyes off the ghostly figure because she might sneak up on me and harm me, or because she could disappear and I wouldn't be able to see her again, but I barely even blinked.
"You see her!" I finally heard the woman cry as she stepped in front of me and forced my eyes onto her own face. "I know it, you see her, the color is gone from your face and you are shaking."
I shook me head in an effort to regain my thoughts. She was right, I was visible shaking, and my throat was dry and hoarse as I stumbled to form words that never amounted to much. Suddenly remembering the boy I turned to find him, hoping he wasn't scared, but he had disappeared into the house and was not witnessing my fearful display.
Turning back around I stepped past the woman, off the porch and onto the grass. It was not very dark out, as one may suspect it to be when dealing in ghostly encounters, and my fear turned to curiosity.
"Why has she come outside?" I asked, fixing my gaze once again upon the specter.
"I don't know, she just does every now and then, I try not to pay too much attention."
Gathering my wits and finding strength in the knowledge that I was not alone, and courage in the fact that it was not yet utterly dark out, I started making my way towards that street. "So let's find out."
I didn't hear the cry of protested I expected to hear from behind me, instead just silence. As I reached to edge of the street I stopped and looked behind me to see if I was going to need to do any convincing to get her to follow me. I was met with a stare that read half fear, and half curiosity dying to be satisfied. After a minute of contemplation, the woman's body visibly relaxed, and she started to make her way to me.
I sort of expected the ghost woman to disappear as we got closer, but there was no change at all as we approach, only her eyes followed us. As we took the final steps that placed us a few feet in front of her, she turned to her left and gazed upon the house next door to hers. Waiting in vain to find out if there would be further communication, I finally asked her if she wanted us to visit the house next door. Still receiving nothing more from the ghost woman, I took the answer to be yes, and led the way to the house next door.
Stepping up on the porch, I knocked, then stepped to the side and turned so I could see not only my still nameless friend, and the person who would come to the door, but also the figure that waited on the neighboring doorstep. To my surprise, I found that the ghost woman was not waiting on her porch as I had suspected, but had instead followed us, and was now lingering on the walkway at the bottom of the steps. I barely had time to regain my composure from my surprise when the door opened to reveal a petite smiling woman of about 70, and her husband who lingered further in the house but stood to see who their visitors were.
"May I help you?" The older woman beamed.
"Yes," I began, "we just have a random interest in the house next door to you here," I said gesturing, "as well as it's former owner, and we hoped that you might be able to help."
"Of course, we'd be happy to help if we can, please come in."
We were led into the house, and the woman seemed to have forgotten all about closing her front door as she got caught up in her excitement over having visitors. Feeling there was no reason the couple should not know about the rumored haunting of the house next door, I just came out with it, and told them everything. They both smiled as I spoke, unaffected in a negative way by anything I said.
"Well," the older woman said jumping to her feet as I finished my short tail, "we did know the woman who lived next door when she was alive, and we even bought her living room set in an estate sell after her death." she said sweeping her hand around the room. I looked down at the sofa I was sitting on, and then moved my gaze to the open doorway where the ghost woman stood, as the older woman continued to explained that they had all the furniture reupholstered.
For the first time the ghost woman's face had changed from an expressionless stare to a look of anger. I felt a bit scared and felt I should let the others know she was not happy about something.
"Well for heaven sake!" The old woman snapped, "It's not like it's yours anymore, this room gets a lot of light, and we thought this was a better color for it." She looked blankly around the room as she spoke as if hoping to somehow see who she was talking to, though the apparition was not visible to her.
Looking back to the door, I no longer saw the ghost woman. The couple asked us to follow them to the kitchen for some refreshment, and I reached up to close the door as the three of them walked out, but I accidentally closed it too hard. The older woman and my sloothing companion both whirled around and came back into the room.
"Is that any way to act?" The clearly feisty older woman hollered into thin air.
Before I could even react, I felt an elbow jab into my side from the empty seat next to me. Not knowing whether it was my imagination, guilty conscience, or the now invisible ghost woman, I heard the words loudly in my head, "don't let them think that was her."
"It wasn't her!" I blurted our hastily, "It was me I'm sorry, I tried to close it without standing up and accidentally slammed it."
The two women relaxed and continued on with their journey into the other room, as I heard a faint knock on the door. In hindsight, I'm surprised that the thought didn't occur to me that the young boy could have come seeking the woman, but somehow I just knew it wasn't him. I got up and went to open the door, feeling suddenly guilty that I may have shut her out on accident.
As I opened the door, I was drawn out by a power unseen. The sky had grown darker, and though I could still not see the ghost woman, I felt it was her who moved me. I mechanically moved across the yard and back to the haunted house. When I found myself in front of the picture window, I turned to face it, and beheld something strange. The curtains flew open and I could see that the lights in the house were on. The room was fully furnished and the living room set was clearly the one I had been sitting on in the neighbor's home, only in looked as it had when the ghost woman lived.
From the door at the side of the house, the one the led to the carport, I saw the ghost woman (no longer as a ghost) walk in with another lady, a larger lady who was a few decades younger. The ghost woman was dressed in the same dress I had seen her in before, and the other woman wore scrubs, plain purple pants and a purple floral top.
"That must be her nurse." I thought. The two woman lingered in the kitchen which was clearly visible from where I stood, and then as the ghost woman turned away, the nurse grabbed her around the neck and began to choke her. I tried to move or call out, but I was fixed where I stood, and no words would come. The ghost woman fought, she fought with all she had, but the other woman was bigger and stronger than her. At one point the ghost woman broke away, but her nurse swiftly grabbed her again, and in a moment the ghost woman's lifeless body was dropped to the ground.
Suddenly there she was again, on her feet, standing within arms reach of the woman who had betrayed her. I knew it couldn't be, she was dead, I had seen her killed. My eyes moved back to the floor, and there she lay, still, the nurse staring down at her. Once again my eyes moved back to the ghost woman, the once again dead version of her. Her face twisted in furry and with all her might she let out a blood curdling scream the made my blood run chill.
"MURDER!"
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I heard the pop again and my eyes flew open. I was in my room. The radio buzzed with voices again but the echo in my mind had been replaced with that of the ghost woman's anguished cries of murder. Every bone in my body was chilled, and my heart was racing. It was a dream, a nine minute dream that lasted as long as my snooze button. I felt haunted for several minutes as I lay in bed trying to shake it. It WAS a dream, but it seemed so real.
oh how distrubing! how well do you know your neighbors?
ReplyDeleteNot well at all.
ReplyDeleteScary dream!!! What a story teller you are. you should write books
ReplyDelete