I love the paranormal. I have seen a lot through the past 11 years, and have many true stories to tell. If you love the paranormal, relate, or just love a good ghost story, join me to enter parts of my life where the stories come alive.
Soon after my parents went back home to Arizona, It was just my husband, two children, and myself. The activity continued. As usual, being alert towards the situation, heard and saw everything. My children were always playing and could never stay in one place too long being full of energy and smiles. Always laughing and giggling. On occasion I would hear giggling when they were quiet. A mother knows the sound of her child’s voice even their cries and giggles. This was not their giggles. I, of course, knew exactly who it was. There were lots of little distant giggles from Tommy and playful little footsteps during the day. I stayed home with my children while my husband was at work, so it was as it always was since we moved in in the daylight. Just my two children, Tommy and myself. The evenings into the nights were becoming different. On regular nights, ever so often, I would feel a little on getting into my bed. My oldest would crawl into bed with me when he woke up from a bad dream so come and safely sleep with me. On the night before my husband came home, I was awoken from a little someone getting into bed with me. I turned over, expecting to see my son’s face, but it was the same boy in the little 40’s news boy outfit and cap with the sleek brown hair, blue eyes and little round cheeks. It was Tommy. I sat up and looked up. He was gone. Now during the evenings, my husband would come home, we were together as a family. In the night after putting the children to sleep, my husband and I would spend time together then go to sleep. There was now a man in the house and in the bed making things different.
It was almost Christmas time, and 2010 was almost over. The weather was getting well into the 40’s-50’s during the day and mixed with the breeze from the beach and continuously rainy days, it made for an even colder feeling. I love cold, gray, and rainy days where you didn’t see any sunlight at all. Not even the small sliver from behind a cloud. Just gray for miles and the rainfall in the distance like smoky gray paint being smeared down a canvas that was the horizon of the ocean. They blended together for an endless array of deep gray. Having to wear a sweater all day and be cozy by a fire. It gave Christmas time more of that Christmassy feeling.
So, now that we have established that Tommy was in fact actually there, that reassured me that I was not going insane. I wondered so many times if it was all in my head. Although I knew my kids heard and saw the things I did, I still did not think that they were catching everything. While with both of my children, I would see, out of the corner of my eye, a small someone peeking around the corner or standing in the hall. I would walk by my room and catch a glimpse of someone peeking out from under my covers as if a child playing peek-a-boo. It was always myself, and myself alone, that noticed these things. Perhaps, it is my motherly instinct to always be aware of my surroundings to protect my children, or my children were always too busy playing. Maybe, just maybe, Tommy made himself noticeable to me alone. He was in fact a child and I a mother.
These small disturbances did not yield. Every time one of them occurred, I was never able to explain them. I was more and more a believer that there was someone there in the house with us. I officially knew that there was something or someone there. A ghost, and what seemed to be a ghost child. There was evidence with little footprints and giggling and the almost weightless sound of the footsteps while running. The small childish actions of making things tumble over and even making toys go off. I still didn’t understand the reasoning of the pencil but it had its importance. Perhaps it was all that was left and all the ghost could move so it held a symbolic meaning or comfort.
Weird things began all throughout Lilly’s bedroom with her dark, eerie closet and her little cozy friend Lulu. We were starting to get a break from it though. It did not happen EVERY single night anymore, but occasionally. When I say we got a break, I only meant from the closet and dolly fiasco. Other strange things happened. The cold spots remained freezing. Every now and then, cold spots would travel around the house. Ever so often, I got the sensation of someone running past me, so close, but invisible; cool air brushing across my face or arm, wisping my hair off of my shoulder. I felt it, it would break my concentration from the task I was engaged in, but left me unsatisfied to find nothing responsible for it.
We were officially and completely unpacked. It was October, Halloween was approaching. We were very excited as Halloween is a favorite for us. The days were shorter and the nights were longer. The weather was so chilly that when the yards were watered with the sprinklers, they seemed to be wet all the time. There was never any warmth to dry it. As the sun set, all the little water drops sparkled like diamonds across the yard. Leaves were starting to fall from the trees, and it became even more gray and rainy out. It was beautiful.
Continued from part one of my story, we were not alone in the house. We were physically alone yes, just my children, dog, and myself, but spiritually… no. This I did not know just yet. Little things would happen. The lights would flicker or shut off, or even, occasionally, just turn on at random. This could be explained through faulty or old wiring. It was a 70 year old home after all. Several of the things in it were the original construction. I will add that even after being looked at, repaired, or even replaced, the electrical activity did not seize. That beautiful 1940 O’Keef and Merrit gas stove would suddenly have the knob turned just enough to emit gas into the room. This was obvious through the bitter smell. Things would get moved, lost and show up in a different place, fall and break. Of course I had children but neither of them were tall enough to see onto kitchen counters. One couldn’t even crawl yet.
The Winchester house. In the heart of gorgeous San Diego CA & everything I wanted in a house. It was 2010, my husband at the time was deployed in the Navy, and I was in search of a house for our family before he returned. I was falling short of luck. Everything was either taken, too small, too expensive, or just not what I wanted. There was this little yellow house built in 1940. I passed it up a couple of times honestly; when I had nothing left I thought why not just look at it. It was PERFECT! I called the owner and he said it was still available and everything just fell into place. I moved my two children, Great Dane and myself in a month later. It was a warm September afternoon. Lovely outside with the warm sun and cool beach breeze as we were oh so close to the ocean... but the house was warm inside. No air conditioning out there really, so we opened the windows and started unloading. The outside of the house was a mustard yellow with deep hunter green trim. Lush grass that seemed to always have beads of water in it, Cala lilies, succulents, and plants of every kind in the front and all down the side of my home. The inside of the house had a different design of tile in every room. The dining room looked like a giant chess board with black and white checkered tile. Some of the walls were chocolate brown like a freshly melted Hershey bar with seafoam ceilings, pumpkin orange with cream white forks my son, and maroon with cream white for my daughter. French doors that open to the green backyard with a play set for the children the massive garden, green grass everywhere, a large porch and a huge fence that had designs with colorful paint all around my yard. The kitchen was huge with large counter space, a wet bar, original tiled counter tops from 1940, painted with seafoam the custard yellow with its original 1940 O’Keege & Merrit stove. So much character in this little old house...