(no subject)
Hi! I'm pretty brand spanking new here, but I've been reading back on some of the posts and they're all really interesting! I wanted to post something myself, kind of as my thanks to everyone for posting their own stories. I had a lot of weird experiences that kind of calmed down after I grew up. So, I figured I would share one of my oldest.
When I was younger, I lived with my grandparents in their house. It was a pretty old house (when I looked it up recently, it was listed as being built in the year 1900) and they had made a lot of changes to it when they moved in. It didn't have any running water or a modern kitchen, initially. They closed in a balcony on the back of the house and added a two car garage in the back yard. There were three bedrooms on the second floor. Originally, there were four. There used to be an out house, but the bedroom on the east side was converted into the bathroom. But, anyway, I'm getting distracted.
When it was nasty outside, I would end up playing on the second floor and especially in the bathroom, because it was so huge and had so much open space in the middle (because it used to be the master bedroom, I think). The door to the attic opened into the bathroom. The stairs to the attic were tall and twisting. Grandma used to pile all kinds of stuff along the steps that made them even more dangerous. I can remember that I used to open one of the old portable typewriters that looked like a suitcase until you opened it, sit at the bottom of the steps, and pretend to write letters to people. I think I just liked the sound that the keys made when I hit them.
It's a strange memory and I don't remember ever telling anyone about it when I was young, but I can remember that there was someone in the attic that I played with and that would watch me play from the top of the steps. I can remember sitting at the bottom of the steps and often looking up at the person who was standing at the top of the steps. I even used to talk to them, though I can't remember what I would say or what I thought they said. When I try to think of who the person was, I can't remember a face, a height, a gender, or even a shape. When I think of how they looked, I just recall a dark shadowy spot. I can remember that it would sometimes sit out in the hall outside my bedroom on some nights and that I used to follow it into the attic and play hide and seek with it among all the junk piled up all over the place.
I don't remember ever being threatened by whatever it was in that was in the attic. I had a lot of nightmares in that house, but I have a lot of nightmares in general. I just thought it might be an interesting story to share.
Our House.
When I was younger, I lived with my grandparents in their house. It was a pretty old house (when I looked it up recently, it was listed as being built in the year 1900) and they had made a lot of changes to it when they moved in. It didn't have any running water or a modern kitchen, initially. They closed in a balcony on the back of the house and added a two car garage in the back yard. There were three bedrooms on the second floor. Originally, there were four. There used to be an out house, but the bedroom on the east side was converted into the bathroom. But, anyway, I'm getting distracted.
When it was nasty outside, I would end up playing on the second floor and especially in the bathroom, because it was so huge and had so much open space in the middle (because it used to be the master bedroom, I think). The door to the attic opened into the bathroom. The stairs to the attic were tall and twisting. Grandma used to pile all kinds of stuff along the steps that made them even more dangerous. I can remember that I used to open one of the old portable typewriters that looked like a suitcase until you opened it, sit at the bottom of the steps, and pretend to write letters to people. I think I just liked the sound that the keys made when I hit them.
It's a strange memory and I don't remember ever telling anyone about it when I was young, but I can remember that there was someone in the attic that I played with and that would watch me play from the top of the steps. I can remember sitting at the bottom of the steps and often looking up at the person who was standing at the top of the steps. I even used to talk to them, though I can't remember what I would say or what I thought they said. When I try to think of who the person was, I can't remember a face, a height, a gender, or even a shape. When I think of how they looked, I just recall a dark shadowy spot. I can remember that it would sometimes sit out in the hall outside my bedroom on some nights and that I used to follow it into the attic and play hide and seek with it among all the junk piled up all over the place.
I don't remember ever being threatened by whatever it was in that was in the attic. I had a lot of nightmares in that house, but I have a lot of nightmares in general. I just thought it might be an interesting story to share.
Our House.