This is a true story. Many years ago now my family and I rented a huge home. We loved the property but strange things happened to us while living there. I have pets and I didn't want them to run away while the doors were open while we unloaded the truck of our furniture and etc, so I put my dog and my cat in a locked room down in the basement until we were all moved in.
I was upstairs showing where boxes should go. When I saw my cat Sunny, running, with fur standing up on him from his neck to his tail, down the upstairs landing. How did he get out? Why was he upstairs and why was he so afraid?
He ran out the opened door and he never came back. That was day one in the Crestwood, Illinois home.
I'd come home from work and the radio would be on. I'd hear voices but no one there. My son would clean his room and I'd check to make sure he did and minutes later, I'd go back up and it looked like a tornado hit the room.
Where moments before was neat and clean. We'd hear scratchings behind the wall of my daughter's bedroom. Several times I'd feel like a hand was at my back and pushed me as I'd walk down the stairs area.
My son also experienced this. My son was a newspaper delivery boy and went out at early hours with my husband. But one day the bell rang and a cop had our son in toll. Seems he was asleep on his feet. He was stealing local bicycles and insisted he didn't remember ever doing it or where they were.
The cop knew. He actually took us to our rented back of property to be shown a large debris of downed trees and brush. He moved stuff aside and lo and behold there were 3 bikes. My son even had a stunned look on his face and insisted he did not know they were there.
Of course no one believed him. He was punished and years later still admits he never remembered getting those bicycles. I asked how the cop knew where they were and he said the Nelson kid who use to live there stole bikes and placed them in the same spot as he found the recent ones.
The boy was 12 as was my son 12 at time time also. I grew very depressed in that house. I would cry for no reason and I never knew why I'd cry.
I got a job part time at a local convenience store a half block from my home and met a lady who asked where I lived and I told her and then she said: "YOU live in THE Nelson house?"
And I stated that yes I still get mail for the Nelson's but they no longer live there and she then proceeded to tell me that of course they no longer lived there and she told me why...
Seems the Nelson family were not your upstanding type of family. The father was an abuser and an alcoholic. One son committed suicide in the bedroom which my son eventually made his own, another son shot himself on the roof of the house and fell off it.
The mother went insane and was admitted to a Manteno, Illinois mental institution and the father hung and killed himself in the stairwell where my son and I had felt hands on our backs when no one was there behind us at the time.
Each pet we acquired while there either ran off, was hit by a car in front of the house or died inside for no apparent reason. Healthy one day, dead the next. It got so bad we had to move away.
Now when one goes passed that house at 13617 S. Long Street in Crestwood Ill. you see an abandoned big house and no one inside. I often wonder why no one is there when in reality someone or some other existence really still lives there.
In that house is also where my son first acquired his cancer that he lived through after chemo and 2 bone marrow transplants.
Did a Nelson boy enter my son's body as he slept and make him go steal bikes and place them where the Nelson kid once did? I believe this to be so since to this day my son says he never even remembered awakening to even leave the house and felt sleepy as the cop questioned him and brought him home.
The place should probably be torn down but whatever is there needs to be exorcised first. This is my story.
Story Credit: Judy.
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