In 2008, I was newly divorced and looking for a new forever home for myself and my kids. My daughter was 6 and my son was 16.
I found our future home while driving looking for a home advertised in classifieds. I was instantly sold on this one particular home, which was not the home in the classifieds. After a walk through, I was certain it was meant to be our fresh start.
My best friend walked through with me and upon ascending the staircase to the upper floor, she let me know she felt uneasy. I passed off my uneasiness and hers being due to the house being older and nothing more.
I closed the deal on the home and moved us in within a week or so. Within a few weeks, bangs, dragging noises, knocks were daily happenings. I explained everything as sounds of the home settling and nothing more. I didn’t want to admit my concerns.
My best friend began to look for help when I told her she was maybe right. The kids stopped sleeping upstairs as they could hear voices, footsteps, shadow people. I closed off the upstairs and used only it as storage within a few months of moving in. A sitting room off of the kitchen became a bedroom.
I spent my nights, praying, burning incense and candles, my home was a grid of blessed salts, holy water, burning sage, and other herbs. Multiple paranormal teams investigated my home. Contacts were made through a paranormal team from out of state, to the Catholic church and a priest was brought to my home and the house was blessed. For a few months, the house was quiet. But it didn’t last. We were each affected. We were left shell-shocked.. traumatized.
Our story spans a time from 2008 to 2014.
Our home was lost to fire in 2014. It was treated as skeptical in my town. People gathered to watch it burn. I had to park down the road and run to my home. It took 2 fire engines to put the fire out. At one point the fire chief asked me what all was inside the house cause of the difficulty putting out the fire. The sounds and pictures recorded by bystanders were chilling. People still talk about it. We would still be there, if not for the fire. I would have never sold it to another family. The fear of attachment kept us there as well. I had kept diaries, recordings and numerous other bits of evidence of what I had captured there, but it all got lost in the fire!
The house became like my previous dysfunctional relationship.. as bad as it could get but there was comfort in knowing it was home. I always believed, and still do, that God protected us. I felt He would let me know when it was time to leave forever.
Thank you for reading I thought our story is one worth telling.
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