My Ghost Story

I’m going to start this post off by saying that I don’t believe in ghosts – even after what happened to me.  I still don’t believe in them.  All I’m saying is that this story was freaky and worthy of a good Halloween scare.  Having said that, here we go…

When I was in high school, I was asked to babysit/housesit for a new family in our town.  They got my name from our church, but I had never met them before.  Assuming that they were like every other suburban family I had ever babysat for, I agree to stay in their house for a week with their 3-year-old son, Finn.

On my first visit to the house, I noticed that it was kind of strange.  The family had just moved in after their grandfather who originally owned the house had passed away.  He was killed riding his bike over the bridge connecting the peninsula I grew up on to the main land.  The furniture was still draped with sheets and boxes were stacked up all over the place.  There was very little furniture.  There were no televisions and only one phone.  But the kid was nice and the neighborhood (though in the middle of the woods) was familiar to me.

My first night in the house was a little creepy.  I swore I heard footsteps and whispering down in the basement.  I wasn’t aware of exactly how creepy the house actually was, so I ventured out of my bedroom in the middle of the night to see what the noise was.  When I looked down the stairs to the basement, I noticed the light was on down there, but the footsteps and whispering had stopped, so I assumed I was just sleepy and seeing things and went back to bed.

The next afternoon, I was a little creeped out.  The house was starting to get to me and I was still unnerved by the previous night’s events, so I called my friend, Tony, to come stay with me for the afternoon.  If you ask Tony today, he will tell you that the next several events actually happened.  I was in the kitchen making a snack for the three of us (three includes the kid) and had turned the faucet in the sink on and then off again.  But when I turned my back to the faucet, the water turned back on.  Full stream.  Water just started coming out of the spout.  I look at Tony who kind of shrugs and I turn the faucet back off.  Suddenly, the water in the guest bathroom across the hall turned on in the sink.  Full stream.  This time Tony went and turned it off, both of us laughing nervously.  As soon as he turned it off, both faucets in the kitchen and bathroom started spraying water.  Full streams.  Clearly freaked out, we turned off both faucets and we left for the afternoon.

I called my mom and asked her to come stay with me, but she said I was being silly and needed to be responsible to my commitments.  Whatever.  I go back to the house that night and put Finn to bed.  Now, Finn’s bedroom was creeping enough in itself.  It was decorated in old baby dolls – you know, the kind that have no eyes – and yellowed, lace curtains.  Very creepy.  But Finn didn’t seem to find, so I put him down to go to bed, making sure to leave the bedroom door open with the doorstop so that he could see the light in the kitchen.  A few hours later, I went to bed.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to the footsteps and whispering again.  Only this time, they were on the first floor.  I get up and slowly open my bedroom door to peer out.  I didn’t see anything, but I thought I should check on the baby.  When I got to Finn’s bedroom door, it was closed.  Now, Finn’s door was promped open with one of those old fashioned iron doorstops, easily weighing 10 pounds.  And he slept in a crib.  There was no way he had climbed out of bed, moved the 10 pound doorstop, and closed his door.  At this point, I am freaking out.  But I go back to my bedroom and sit on my bed, waiting until the morning.

When the sun finally starts to come up, I open my door and peer across to Finn’s room.  His door is now open again and the doorstop is back in place.  I go to Finn in his crib and start getting him dressed for the day, silenting making plans to take him to my parent’s house for the rest of the week.  As I’m dressing Finn he is babbling about something and I’m not really paying attention until he says, “Opened door…Played with the Sandman.”

“What did you say, Finn?” I ask.

“I played with the Sandman.”

“Last night?”

“Yeah, he opened door and we played.”

Needless to say, I took Finn to my house and finished the week out there.  Finn had an older sister who was about my age that went to my high school.  While her parents were out of town, she was staying with a friend instead of keeping Finn.  I decided to find her in school and ask about the house.  When I asked her if she ever heard noises or had anything weird happen she just kind of laughed.

“Why do you think I’m not staying there with Finn?”  she said.

Like I said, I don’t believe in ghosts.  But that week was freaky in ways that I definitely can’t explain.   So, tonight while you’re out hunting candy or boozing in a costume somewhere, just look out for the Sandman.  I hear he likes to play at night.




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4 responses to “My Ghost Story

  1. Pingback: You Must Have Me Confused For a Grown Up « Confessions of a Young Married Couple

  2. maureenlynn

    Creepy! I think I might be more likely to believe in ghosts after something like that. I’ve never experienced anything myself but my friend once played me a tape she recorded at her mom’s house a little after she died. There was definitely something on there that sounded like whispering voices. And my friend wouldn’t make stuff like that up about her mom, so I knew she wasn’t lying. It was hard to make anything out specifically though, so I’m still not totally convinced, but who really knows?

  3. SusanL

    I would never have stayed there by myself in the first place! I’ve seen people that weren’t there and a few other odd happenings. I’ve also seen a couple of people I worked with after they died – both instances happened at the places we had worked together. I’m surprised it didn’t freak me out, but I smiled at them ( I even waved at one & she waved back ), they smiled at me and then were gone.

    I have a friend who lived in a haunted house while he was in his teens. Eventually, he stopped going upstairs at all – he slept on the downstairs sofa every night. He wasn’t the only one who experienced things either; his mom, her friend who lived with them for a while and the friends kids all had multiple “episodes”.

    Did you have lots of Trick or Treaters at your new home?

  4. Laurel

    I REMEMBER THIS. I think you forgot the part about how creepy the kid was too. Never smiled, very monotone, not very “three year old-ish” in a way you had to see to understand. I went to the house, but there was no way I was staying with you guys, in the haunted house, in the forrest. Oh… that sandman is going to start haunting me again, I thought I was over this story! Happy Halloween Kate! Say hello to the hubby!