Do people find the right house, or does the house find them? Some only know. Hunting for the right house in a small town was solved. A big white house was spotted on a gravel road, right outside town. This had been a doctor’s home and was built in the eighteen hundreds. Certainly in need of a few repairs, but the price was right. The family held on to the dream that this was it, the perfect house. That just right feeling accommodated the thrill for awhile, but the delusion soon faded as mysterious things began to happen.
Feeling a little eerie was time and again shrugged off by the size of the house. The tall ceilings made the rooms feel enormous. Entrance through the foyer was huge and lead to what used to be the Doctor’s Office. This room and the one leading from it were now the children’s rooms. And, then there was the basement, a small spine-chilling room that must have been used for storms and canned goods. At times the house was a bit terrifying and the sense of a presence was a little bewildering.
The kitchen was a small room with tall cabinets that reached the ceiling. A place where a lot of time was spent preparing meals and cleaning. This time the normal everyday cleaning ceased. A child’s whimpering echoing from the children’s rooms. Thinking this must be one of the girls, led a quick response to their rooms, however; they were in the living room watching TV. Believing this was probably a noise from the TV quickly eased the feelings of the children needing help. Cleaning again continued until the sobs were once again heard, but still nothing was there.
The incident conceded as days passed, until Jenny, the youngest daughter said,”I play with the children in the night. Mommy, the children come and play with us,” she explained, as she told the story of the three little girls that come and play in the night.
“They wake us up and won’t go away,” affirmed Becky the other daughter, as she walked off in a calm voice muttering, ‘They are our friends.”
Basically trying to trust that their statements were the children’s brilliant imaginations, brought back memories of the cries from their rooms, days ago The cries were as if calls for help. Weeping was still apparent in the kitchen occasionally, mostly heard in the day time. A baby and sometime children could be heard weeping until no end. However, this was just the beginning of ongoing events that began to occur.
Fears of the unknown lived in this house, for the family seemed to hibernate and shut out the rest of the world. The dad, George was becoming separated from the family. He now preferred to be alone and started to neglect work more and more. He became very angry, unshaven and more of a creature than the loving dad, he was. Barely eating, he looked frail and seemed to be driven by a power, not of this world. Constantly, he lashed out, screaming at whom ever was in vicinity of him.
Nights were long, filled with shouting and aggressive behavior, as his wife, Beth constantly demanded the abnormal root to his behavior. The fights fearlessly progressed night after night with no end.
“What is happening to you George? Beth screamed worriedly over and again with no response. You are not yourself. You have become a stranger in this house and look at you.”
George’s raging eyes blankly stared ahead as if Beth was not there. He rumbled on words when he spoke that she could not understand. Words that seemed to be of another language were uttered over and over. Often in the night, rousing through the kitchen was heard as he was looking for something. Afraid for his safety, she had hidden everything she assumed George could harm himself with. Beth’s assumption that George was in a depressed state now disappeared and accrued, it must be the house.
Frightened by her husband’s behavior, Beth started sleeping in the upstairs quest room, behind a locked door. Occasionally, she heard him speaking as if another person was there with him. Cries and often screams were heard in this room, but no one could be seen. She was often awaked by a rapid cold breeze, blowing across the room and the windows would be opening and closing. Her thought was now building on how to get away from this house. As she lay there dwelling on the escape, footsteps were heard coming down the hall. The door was suddenly pushed open, as if not locked.
“Come in George. I have missed you, she whispered, as she pulled something from under the pillow. I must kill you now,” she said in a voice that was not her own.
This was not Beth, other than her body. She moved closer and lashed out with a knife. Slowly, he began moving toward the door and frantically slipped away. Foot steps were following slowly behind him. Managing to get to the girl’s room, he grabbed them out of their sleep and ran for the car. There was Beth in the front doorway, still holding the knife. Escaping through the back door was the only option they had. Tall bushes hide them until the screams for George got quieter. He then made a run to the car. Locking the doors, he started to drive away, but Beth unexpectedly hopped on the hood.
“Get off the car, your not Beth.” George in a terrified voice ranted, as he drove away.
“Stop the car. Why are you driving so fast? ” Beth growled, as she pecked on the wind shield with the knife.
Suddenly, he stopped the car. Beth had fallen from the hood and was lying unconscious on the ground. Help quickly arrived to transport her to the hospital. It was too late; Beth or whoever she had become was gone.
Some say Beth can still be seen standing in the doorway of the old house late at night.