it was about 11 years ago (im 18 now) when it all happened. we had a farm just a quarter mile from a town. it was one of those places that seemed to be just right. big yard, nice house, and a huge garage. we moved there when I was about 5, I was living with my grandparents at the time, and it seem like it was gonna be fun.
a year later, my mother moved in with her new boyfriend, and my grandparents found another farm a few miles away to move to. her boyfriend was...not the nice type. he was a huge athiest with a god complex (I now find it ironic, but hang with me.) he never believed in heaven or hell, but he sure like to cause it. one night I woke up around 2:30ish and saw him and my mother screwing around with a ouija board. I watched for about an hour before my mother noticed me, and sent me back to bed. now that I'm older, I now realise thats when it all went downhill.
over time, I've learned spirits tend to feed off energy, and bad ones feed off negative energy, and that house was like a nuke of negative energy. mostly cause by my stepdad. he was not a real good guy. ever. he treated me and my sibling like shit, but loved picking on me most of all, due to the fact that though I'm the oldest, I'm also the most pacifistic out of us all. he got pure joy out of making me suffer. but I'm wandering off topic. anyway, like I said, spirits feed off energy, and boy was there a lot of it.
there was always activity going on after that night. it was small at first, but got worse over time. one week things are moving slightly, the next theres things banging on windows, and slamming basement doors. I got the worse end of the storm, due to me being the biggest source of negative energy (depression, and mind you I wasnt even 10 years old at the time). at one point I had a room to myself, with a queen size bed. for normal 7-8 year olds, its a blessing having a huge bed, but for me it was hell. the damn thing would shake like jell-o on a plate every night, so much to where even now, I cant bear to sleep on a bed off the floor even an inch anymore. but the worse thing , and I mean the WORST thing that happened was one night, around midnight, I heard voices all over the room. I for some unknown reason gained a slight bit of bravery/stupidity and said to the voices "shut up please, I'm trying to get some sleep", to which something responded with the loudest yell you could possibly ever hear. now being a 8 year old boy, alone in a dark room, having some possibly demonic thing straight up yell at you is traumatizing. I never moved faster in my entire life, and I probably never will again.
after that my mom blocked off the upstairs altogether, but even after that we heard footsteps, voices and babies crying. later on in my life, I learned the house was built on grounds where and indian war took place, and lots of deaths happened. and that a couple with a baby also lived on the same property.
to this day, I still see things, HATE off the ground beds, and still hear that monstrous yell in the back of my mind, one of the things i'll never forget. I sometimes wish I could go back and burn that stupid board, and have a chance at a childhood
AnonymousSeptember 12, 2016 at 11:33 PM
a year later, my mother moved in with her new boyfriend, and my grandparents found another farm a few miles away to move to. her boyfriend was...not the nice type. he was a huge athiest with a god complex (I now find it ironic, but hang with me.) he never believed in heaven or hell, but he sure like to cause it. one night I woke up around 2:30ish and saw him and my mother screwing around with a ouija board. I watched for about an hour before my mother noticed me, and sent me back to bed. now that I'm older, I now realise thats when it all went downhill.
over time, I've learned spirits tend to feed off energy, and bad ones feed off negative energy, and that house was like a nuke of negative energy. mostly cause by my stepdad. he was not a real good guy. ever. he treated me and my sibling like shit, but loved picking on me most of all, due to the fact that though I'm the oldest, I'm also the most pacifistic out of us all. he got pure joy out of making me suffer. but I'm wandering off topic. anyway, like I said, spirits feed off energy, and boy was there a lot of it.
there was always activity going on after that night. it was small at first, but got worse over time. one week things are moving slightly, the next theres things banging on windows, and slamming basement doors. I got the worse end of the storm, due to me being the biggest source of negative energy (depression, and mind you I wasnt even 10 years old at the time). at one point I had a room to myself, with a queen size bed. for normal 7-8 year olds, its a blessing having a huge bed, but for me it was hell. the damn thing would shake like jell-o on a plate every night, so much to where even now, I cant bear to sleep on a bed off the floor even an inch anymore. but the worse thing , and I mean the WORST thing that happened was one night, around midnight, I heard voices all over the room. I for some unknown reason gained a slight bit of bravery/stupidity and said to the voices "shut up please, I'm trying to get some sleep", to which something responded with the loudest yell you could possibly ever hear. now being a 8 year old boy, alone in a dark room, having some possibly demonic thing straight up yell at you is traumatizing. I never moved faster in my entire life, and I probably never will again.
after that my mom blocked off the upstairs altogether, but even after that we heard footsteps, voices and babies crying. later on in my life, I learned the house was built on grounds where and indian war took place, and lots of deaths happened. and that a couple with a baby also lived on the same property.
to this day, I still see things, HATE off the ground beds, and still hear that monstrous yell in the back of my mind, one of the things i'll never forget. I sometimes wish I could go back and burn that stupid board, and have a chance at a childhood
AnonymousSeptember 12, 2016 at 11:33 PM
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