Now to the ghost part.
The first time I ever felt or saw something odd happen in the house was actually really very funny. My step-dad was home for a few days, and the first morning he went into the bathroom to take care of business. Well, when he stepped in front of the sink and mirror to wash his hands, brush his teeth, etc., the light in the bathroom went out. He naturally thought the light had blown, and walked out to get a bulb from the pantry in the kitchen. When he returned, the light was burning just fine. He stepped in front of the mirror again, and the light went out again.
When I came out of my bedroom, sleepy eyed and needing to pee, the vision I had was of my 6'2" stepfather in his tighty-whiteys trying to hold a towel around his waist, with one foot in the bathroom and one foot out of the bathroom, leaning in and then out over and over again, and I swear, every time he stepped in front of the mirror the light went out.
When he realized he was being watched, he got all grumpy and said he was going to have to see about the short in the wiring and off to the bedroom he went. I went in the bathroom, did my business, got a clean wash cloth, washed my face, brushed my teeth, took a brush to my hair, made a pony tail, and walked out. The light burned steadily the entire time.
It became a joke in our house that he was too ugly for the mirror and that's why the light went out. When any of us women were in there, nothing happened. It only happened to him. It was creepy, but funny at the same time. And yes, we had an electrician look at it. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the wiring.
A lot of things happened that weekend, and by the time it was over, I had a whole new outlook on the things that went bump in the night and all that. Keep in mind I was 12. I had only just a couple years ago gotten past the idea that there was not a monster sleeping under my bed, mkay?
So, that Friday night as I lay in bed and heard the stomp stomp stomp of my stepfather's big huge feet up and down the hallway and the door slamming, I got up to investigate what all the noise was about. When I peeked out my door, the hallway was empty. I went back to bed. An hour later, I heard the same thing.
I heard the front door open and close. The sound of that glass rattling was unmistakable. I heard the heavy, obviously male footsteps make their way from the front door to the closed door of my bedroom. I waited for my stepdad to open the door, but nothing happened. I called out to him and asked him why he was creeping outside my bedroom door. Nothing. So I got up again and jerked the door open. Nothing. He wasn't in the living room, nor the kitchen, nor the bathroom. I hadn't heard him go back to the bedroom, but off I went anyway to see what was going on. You know where this is going, don't you?
Yep. He was in the bed. Sound asleep. Snoring even. I poked him and he didn't even move. I made such a fuss about him playing tricks on me that I woke up everyone in the house at 2:00 in the morning. No one had heard a thing but me. Mother insisted I was dreaming and I should go back to bed. I eventually did, sulking the entire time and unable to sleep a wink.
The next morning my necklace was missing. It disappeared from around my throat, and no one claimed to know anything about it. I literally ripped my bed apart and searched all over the place for it, but it was nowhere to be found. I know I went to bed with it on because I remembered watching the moonlight through my window as it glittered on the filigree. It was simply gone and I was very upset. More to come about that.
In Part 4...