Winchester: Tommy

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.

It was almost Thanksgiving time, and the kids and I were still alone. I was beginning to get sick. I always felt tired and weak. I was losing so much weight. I dropped from 110lbs to 99lbs rapidly. I always felt nauseous and dizzy. I was losing hair and I needed a doctor. They checked me for everything. I was completely healthy except my iron. I am never terribly anemic unless I was pregnant which I wasn’t. They couldn’t figure out hope my levels got so low. Oddly enough I only felt really sick when I was at the house. I did some research about having ghosts in the house and how it can affect the living. There is such a thing as ghost sickness. As the activity in the house grew, I felt worse.

The more I started to actually believe that there was some sort of poltergeist in my home, and openly give it attention, I actually started to feel better. I just sort of accepted it.

Lilly was starting to crawl around the house and Elliot enjoyed having someone to play with. They too would notice if things fell randomly, or toys went off when they weren’t even touched. My son would ask me “what was that mommy” or “why did that Happen, who did it”, so I just said “I don’t know, maybe it is a little ghost boy, his name is Tommy, he wants to play too”. This made him laugh rather than be scared which was what I wanted, so he became Tommy, the ghost boy in our home.

I wasn’t really sure that Tommy was a boy. I was sure about the age from the size of the footprints. They looked like those of a 3 year old. One night after I put the children to bed and I closed the bedroom doors and I securely closed the loud door to their bedrooms I went to bed myself. All the doors and windows were locked and lights in the house. There was a night light plugged into the wall casting a light into the living room wish I could see straight out from my bedroom door. My dog laid down and slept on his bed near my bedroom door. I was laying in bed and about to close my eyes and all of the sudden I heard those little footsteps again and tiny little giggles that sounded far away. I looked up and I waited to see Elliot run into my room as he would sometimes do asking me to come lay with him or if he could lay on my bed. I never saw anything. Just then my dog stood up and watched out into the living room as I did, the hairs on his back stood up as he could hear someone but not see them. I watched just waiting. and suddenly there was a shadow appearing on the living wall and fireplace running towards my room. A shadow from someone small running in front of a night light. By the time whatever me the shadow would’ve made it to my door is still nothing.

When I saw no one come in I laid down quietly, my eyes open, just staring up at the ceiling. My heart nearly stopped when I felt cold little hands grab my arm and say “mommy, mommy”. Instantly I looked to my arm thinking it was Elliot, but it wasn’t my little blond, curly haired, hazel eyed boy. This boy had round cheeks, silky brown hair and bright blue eyes. He ran towards my bedroom door and was gone. The second I blinked he was gone. He looked as if he was selling newspapers on the streets in 1940 with his little brown corduroy newsboy cap and matching knee length pants, white shirt with black suspenders, and little bare feet. I got up to check on Elliot, but those doors were shut, and he was fast asleep. I went back to my bed, slightly terrified and completely anxious due to what just happened. I found it a bit difficult to fall asleep that night. I didn’t know what to think, how to feel. Tommy was in fact real, and there was no denying it.

To be continued...