When I was a small child, I heard my Grandmother telling my Mother stories of someone knocking at night. She lived in the garage apartment at my Mother's house. I'll raise my right hand and still get goose bumps when I think of what I saw one night. My sister and I shared a bedroom, we slept in twin beds pushed together. The way our room was, the door jam caught the kitchen light over the stove that my Mother left on at night.
One night, I woke up to find a young girl, my age, swinging out of the room holding on to the door jam. Her hair was brown, bouncy, big curls, long..just a dark silhouette. However, I thought it was my sister. I got up to find where she was going only to have my sister call to me from her bed asking "ME" where "I" was going.
Another night, I was awakened by something outside the window. This was a man's hand waving back and forth. I am not kidding you, as I write this, the chills go down my spine. I grabbed my sister and ran to my parent's room. Daddy got up, got his gun, and went outside. There was nothing there. No bushes, no branches, nothing in front of my window.
From then on, I slept with my head under the covers for fear I would see something else. I literally prayed every night relentlessly that I would not see anything else. It terrified me.
Soon enough, my Grandmother moved a mobile home next door. The knocking continued. My Grandmother constantly complained of strange happenings in her home. We listened, we just didn't say anything. My Grandmother was hospitalized and my sister (11 years old) wanted to clean her home before she came home. My sister was very thoughtful like that, very mild, very sweet, caring young child. While cleaning her home, she walked by the first bedroom and saw my Grandmother's ex-husband standing there. Just like a real person. He was wearing his plaid shirts and knit/twill pants he always wore. He was smiling and motioning with his finger to come to him. She ran out of the house, not screaming, nothing would come out. She got to Mom's porch and we had to give her a paper bag to breathe into. Never did it ever occur to anyone that he would be there.
My Grandmother eventually got an apartment but sold her mobile home to my brother. It was left on the property and the events didn't stop. My brother worked late nights and I often stayed with his wife because this mobile home truly made you have butterflies in your stomach. His wife and I returned home one night to find the TV on an off channel. We didn't leave the TV on, but we dismissed it because we had to go to the restroom in a hurry. She went first, I waited outside the door. It was then that the shadow started coming down the hall. I screamed as loud as I could scream and pounded on the bathroom door as hard as I could. My brother's wife flew out of the bathroom and we broke the back door to get OUT of the house. There weren't even any steps, we just jumped into the mud and ran.
Eventually, my brother's wife's infidelity caught up with her and she had a boyfriend on the side. Believe me, these details are relevant, just keep reading. She eventually moved out... the mobile home was moved, much to everyone's relief, but nothing stopped. In the meantime, my brother's wife's boyfriend was dumped. HE didn't stop. She moved in with her mother and her aunt 10 miles away. They were at a club in Dallas, on their way home, while he waited in the shadows down the road. As they passed by, he drove his truck out of the side road and started chasing them 2 miles from home. He shot into the car several times until she pulled over.
Her boyfriend/ex-boyfriend had a trigger finger that wouldn't bend. He sawed it off with a chainsaw and it was put back on years earlier. The sawn off 12 gauge shotgun had a string attached to it and you had to reload it each time using this string to somehow make it work. They all got out of the car. My brother's wife, her mother, and her aunt. Her mother pleaded for her life and he raised the gun and shot her point blank in the chest. (This story was in the Dallas Morning News email me and I'll tell you where to find it. I also have the video tape of my brother's wife on the news) He turned to her aunt, but her aunt turned away and he shot her in the shoulder. He kidnapped my brother's wife and drove to a church parking lot at 3 AM *EDIT EDIT EDIT EDIT* He then drove to a convenient store for gas, this is where my brother's wife got away.
Back at her mother's home, he had already tried to burn it but only the kitchen burned before it put itself out. My brother had that trailer moved to this location. The exact spot, next to my mother's, where my Grandmother's had previously been. My brother is 6'3" 210, while working late in the house one night, he was frightened by something he won't even talk about. I heard the pounding of his feet when he flew out the door and ran to my mother's house. In the next few days, my mother and I were backing out when we saw someone standing in the window of the first room. It was her mother, in her jeans, red hair, and glasses. Just standing in the window with the curtain pulled back, looking outside.
The trailer didn't stay long, it was soon moved. Here is where I come in. "I" bought a mobile home.... and guess where I put it. Yep, right in the same place. This is where it gets even more difficult for me to tell. I bought a digital camera and I swear, I thought it was broken. At the time, I paid $400 for this camera. These orb looking things kept showing up. I looked them up and found them to be spirits of some kind. We did experiments with glares and soon learned to live with the spots that frequented our photos. We've even played around with some of them and asked them to sit in our hands... and they complied.
There are those who are sensitive to these things. In particular, a friend of ours from Hawaii. We never told her about our house until she came over a few times. She felt truly uncomfortable walking down the hall that has come to be known as the "haunted hall" (where the first bedroom of both previous homes was located). She is in her 30's and sometimes has to have someone walk her down the hall. I am in my 30's and I don't visit that part of the house at night. When my son was younger, his sister had croup. I sat up with her for two nights so I could make sure she was breathing ok. The first night my daughter slept back in that room, my son came to me at 3 AM and told me there was a light up butterfly in his room. I was so sleepy that I just let it go and motioned him into my bed to sleep. The next morning, he told me again (4 years old, my daughter was 2 years old) about the light up butterfly in his room. He said she was very bright and when she saw him looking at her, she slipped away into the ceiling. Again, the goosebumps crawl up my legs.
Back to our friend from Hawaii.... she has seen the little girl, who is still here playing among my children, albeit, they could not see her. She also saw the man that my mother sees and his wife, I assume standing in my yard. I learned to sleep with my door closed in the night at my mother's house. My mother slept with her door open. One night she awoke to find a man standing in her doorway, his face hidden, he was turned to his side. She looked at the clock, looked back at the door, ( goosebumps creeping up my leg again ) and he raised his arm and pointed at her. She knew he was there, she turned her back, and made herself go back to sleep. He was also seen again entering the den at my mother's house while my Dad was up leaving for work around 2:30 AM. He didn't say anything then, but when he got home, he wanted to know who he was. When he described what he saw, everyone knew it was the man mother had seen. The woman wears black dress pants, white dress shirt, she has shoulder length blonde hair, and stands at the end of my mother's bed with her hands crossed. It's been years since they've shown themselves to my mother, but our friend from Hawaii described them. She had no previous knowledge.
I could sit here and write and write about the things that have happened here and at my mother's home. It's scary to say the least. I won't even walk to the kitchen at night to get something to drink without someone going with me.