Living Life Haunted (Part 2; The Discovery)

When we last left off I spoke about the beginning of my life, freshly out of my mother’s womb, already experiencing paranormal activity. As I grew older, the incidents only became more frequent and grew with intensity.

I always could sense things that others could not; the presence of a person unseen by others in the room. Sometimes it would start with the smell of a perfume, a food that wasn’t being prepared in this timeline, the lit cigarette of someone stuck in a loop. Then I could get a feel of -who- was around me. There were multiple entities in my first childhood home. My dad would often see a figure in a long, black, hooded cloak that would take wedding march steps past open doorways. There was a small boy whom I called Edward, that would jump out around corners and scare me. And I already mentioned “Spungy” in my previous post.

So now we will get into where I live now. Back in 2004 my parents divorced and after some bouncing back and forth I ended up on our new property where my dad turned our picnic shelter into a very small home. In this two room home we had one small space that served as a kitchen, dining room, and living room with my dads bed tucked beside the refrigerator and I slept on the couch. The humble beginnings home sat quietly on top of the ruins of an older home, where the only remains left before tearing it down and grading over the untouched soil, were nothing more than the corner where the fireplace still stood strong. We had to start over, but it was still home none the less. Before tearing down the fireplace we noticed a rock, shaped slightly different than the others. We put it to the side as a keepsake to honor the memory of the home and laid a fresh foundation on top.

We never planned on living here, but we made do. A couple years go by when the previous owner had heard what we had done and decided to stop by. I remember being outside in our freshly made flower garden, placing the already bloomed marigolds in their newly dug holes; accented by the fireplace stone as a tribute to the past. My dad was laying fresh soil when his old truck pulled in our driveway. He came over to us and took in how different the property looked since he had last left it. After some brief small talk, he instructed my father to send me inside for a more private conversation. I could hear the concern in his tone, and moseyed on in. Curiosity being my strong suit; I carefully cracked the window open, and listened carefully to their conversation.

He said to my father that he hadn’t known that we planned on building a home out here when we bought it. My dad spent a decent chunk of time explaining the divorce and what lead us to do so. The man hung his head and said that he had to tell him something. He started speaking of a little family that had lived here in home before us. He mentioned that their young daughter had come down with some unknown illness and unfortunately passed away. He then continued on that though he could not prove it; there had been rumors that she had been buried on the property.

My dad was first concerned and admittedly feeling deceived. His tone became louder and more frustrated; but as the conversation progressed the previous owner kept reminding him that these were just in-fact rumors. My father had lowered his voice, and I could just barely make out what he asked next. “Where?” The man hung his head, and asked to come inside.

I cautiously shut the window back, and ran to the couch pretending to be in a tv induced trance right before they came inside. My father followed the man as he made his way to the far end of our home, and he asked “where exactly would the fireplace had been?” My father pointed to our standing washer and dryer. The man turned to him and whispered, “There.”

I could not believe what I had heard. I stood behind my father in horror, and guessing that the look on my face had given my prior curiosity away, my father knew that I knew what that meant. They stepped back outside and the man assured my father once more that it probably was just a rumor and not to worry too much, but that he would be beside himself if he had never told him. They exchanged more words, and the man left as I watched his truck tires kick the gravels out of place, and I was left in the house with the new revelation that we could possibly be living on top of the bones of a little girl.

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