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Growing Up Ghosty

My story is kind of an ongoing ghost story, as I grew up in the house where the activity happened and my grandpa still lives there, so I visit it often.

When I was little we lived in an old farm house that had been built in 1910. There had been a cabin where it stands, but no one seems to know when it was built or who lived there. To give you an idea of how old this place is, there is still a curing house for meat and an outhouse on the property.

My dad's family moved there in 1967 and have lived there since. We lived in the house from the time I was born until I was about 10, then we had a new house built next door. We have found many native american artifacts on the grounds over the years.

Things like tomahawks, bone handled knives, arrows and arrowheads, all of which have visible remnants of paint. Historically the Miami indians settled in that area, but I digress. This will all be relevant later.

My dad and two aunts grew up in the old farmhouse. My aunts had a bedroom upstairs and my dad occupied the one my sister and I shared. My aunt tells stories about how she would see things in her mirror that would be gone when she turned to look, or how her lights would flip on and off.

She claims that one night she saw a disembodied arm reaching for her, but she's the jumpy type so she ran out before she could investigate. There has, however, been a consistent noise that has rung out randomly over the years. It sounds like a bouncy ball is being dropped and let to bounce without interference.

It's that "thump thump thump thump thumpthumpthump" sound, you know what I'm talking about. You can hear it in the upstairs and it only happens every great once in a while.

When I was growing up I was scared to death in that house. I hated living there. I refused to sleep by myself and I know there would be something in our bedroom at night (it just so happened our bedroom was at the foot of the stairs that led to the aforementioned upstairs).

I could hear it moving around in the dead of the night, and I could feel it watching me. When my sister was in kindergarden she had to get a CT scan. We both remember her getting it, but she was too young to remember what it was about and all my mom will say was "she was seeing things".

She has never said what my sister supposedly saw. I do know that there is a video that we have of a Thanksgiving where my sister, right around that time, can be heard in the background telling everyone about the little girl that lives upstairs that comes down to play with her.

We just noticed it a few years ago, we had never paid close enough attention until then. When we went to clean out the upstairs after my grandmother had died, we found tiny footprints, like a child's, in the dirt, with no clear starting point and no clear destination. We were all in our teens by then.

When I was 10 we moved out of that house and into a new one next door. I have always heard mediums say "just because the house is new doesn't mean the ground is. It can still be haunted." I believe it. I had my own room in our brand new house.

I woke up several times in the same fashion I did in the old house, hearing something rummaging around or feeling like I was being watched. Once when I woke up there was a white face staring down at me. It disappeared so fast I couldn't make out specific details, but I definitely saw large, dark eyes and a very pale face.

When we moved into our new house my mom themed our living room in a "log cabin/native american" motif. She purchased native american esque decor and put the artifacts they had found on display in a curio cabinet. The curio cabinet didn't last long. After a few months of finding the doors left cracked open, we came home one day to a crack in the glass.

She ended up putting them back in storage. She had bought me two small porcelein indian dolls for my birthday one year and I set them on top of my dresser. I would come home and find them laying on the floor as if they had been thrown.

I moved them to various places around the dresser, thinking maybe the airflow from the air conditioner was knocking them over (irrational I know, but still a better explanation than the alternative.)

It didn't matter where I put them, they would end up on the floor. I finally gave them back to my mom. I didn't want them in my room. She also had an authentic arrow hanging on the wall. It was secured pretty well, but it would fall off in plain sight on anyone sitting under it.

My mom would never comment on the strange things. She always had an excuse for what was happening, even if they didn't make any sense. I personally think the native american spirits still residing on the land didn't find her ugly knock off decrations to be amusing.

I have since grown up and had children. My two oldest boys won't stay at my mom and dad's house because they have nightmares. My parents turned my old bedroom into a bedroom for the grandkids, and one night when my oldest was about two I found him sitting up in bed staring in horror at the closet door.

When I asked him what was wrong he just pointed to the closet and said "Mommy, that dark man." None of us have slept there since.

Since I have ben an adult I have gotten into "ghost hunting" of sorts. I went into my grandpa's house (the old farmhouse) and got some very interesting pictures that I am going to post, as well as many others. 



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