Moaning Shadows

When I was about 21 years old, I met the love of my life, Jeff. We spent years together in my small apartment, and after the third year, he proposed to me. I said yes, we got married, and life seemed like it couldn’t get any better. We had two children, a boy named George and a girl named Kim. Many years went by, and I realized that I needed to get a house. My apartment was cramped. Kim had just turned 8 and George was 16, and we needed more space for the family.

While searching for houses, I got a dachshund named Dash. He was the happiest, cutest, most understanding dog you could ever have.

I remember one day, while searching for a house, I got a call from an unrecognized number. I picked it up in curiosity, and was surprised when the man on the other end gave me a deal for a house. I never asked for it, but he sent me photos and an extremely cheap price that I never questioned. We bought the house and immediately moved in.

It was a beautiful, giant, white and red house that was perfect for my family.

Or so I thought.

A week or two after moving in, I could hear voices coming from upstairs. The kids were at school and my husband was out at work, so I froze immediately. Being the scaredy-cat I am, I grabbed Dash and slowly walked up the steps. Halfway up the stairs, the step creaked, and the voices stopped. My eyes widened and I ran downstairs. I called 911.

When the police got to my house, nobody was there, and they told me I needed some good rest. I agreed, convinced that I was just tired, and the police left.

A month later, my son George came to me after school and wanted to tell me something.
The night before, he was up late, playing video games. He was lying on his bed, when he felt something touch his foot. He looked down, expecting my dog, but there was nothing to see. He immediately crawled under his covers and froze. George had always believed in ghosts. I told him to get more sleep and calm down.

I felt bad saying that because I believed him. I went to Jeff later that day and told him about George’s experience and my experience, and he didn’t believe me one bit. He told me that we were stressing out too much about the new house.

Over the next few months, weird little things would happen. Kim would run up to me, saying things like “the man won’t stop staring at me” or “my friends don’t like you”. It freaked me out, and I could tell things were happening to George, too. He looked scared all the time, yet never wanted to tell me anything.

I also noticed Dash’s health decreasing. I took him to a vet and they told me nothing was wrong with him. He wouldn’t eat and his hair was falling out. I didn’t know what to do.

Then, one night, I woke up around 3 am. I didn’t know why, but I felt that something was on my side of the bed, staring at me. I tapped Jeff to wake him up. He turned over, and his eyes widened. He was obviously scared breathless. He whispered at me, telling me not to turn around. I didn’t listen. I turned, and against the wall was a large, black mass. My husband tried to get me to not look at it, but I wanted to know what it wanted with my family. This was probably the most brave thing I’d ever done in my life…. I got up and stared straight at it.

“Go. Away.” I said. Right after I said that, it sort of just… disappeared. My husband was on the verge of tears, and I didn’t notice that I had tears streaming down my face, too. We thought I’d sent it away and that everything was over. But it obviously wasn’t done with my house.

The next day, Dash died. Almost completely hairless and bony, he died next to the fireplace, peacefully. I cried for about a week straight, but I was also angry. Whatever I told to go away wasn’t gone.

About a week later, I was carrying a laundry basket to the stairs, whistling a random tune. As soon as I got to the top of the steps, though, I got that disturbing feeling of someone watching me again. I tried to ignore it and began walking down.

But then I was pushed.

I fell down the stairs and broke my leg. I was horrified, and after I got put on crutches, my husband called a paranormal investigation team.

They came as soon as possible, and before they started to investigate, they interviewed each family member separately. When they interviewed George, one of the men stepped out of the room to show me some pictures he just took of George’s back.

There were scratches and scars all over it, and I put one hand over my mouth in horror. He never told me about this. The second George stepped out of the interviewing room, I hugged him and we both cried. I apologized for not listening to him when he tried to tell me about what was happening.

A psychic was called for the investigation, and she immediately picked up three spirits. One hostile man and two children. My daughter told me about the man staring at her and her friends that didn’t like me. I was so scared.

After the investigation was over, I listened to the EVPs that the team recorded.

“Is there anybody in this room that would like to make their presence known?”

A few seconds of silence.

“Leave now.”

The second EVP was also quite scary.

“Why are you in this house?”

More silence.

“My house.”

After I heard those EVPs, I was too horrified to stay in that house. I immediately packed up and my family got into the van. As we drove away, my daughter cried, waving goodbye to her “friends”. I could also see a shadow standing in my bedroom window.

Nobody ever lived there again after that, and I still never met the man who called me to sell me the house.

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