Posted 10-21-2003 at 06:26:09
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I have always believed in ghosts. Not that I have any reason to. It’s not like I had ever had any experiences that I could directly attribute to paranormal phenomenon. At least not until 1989, and the house on Myrtle Street. Even now I’m not so sure what to think of the events that happened in that house, so I will give you the details, and let you judge for yourself.
Shortly after we moved into the house, my daughter Jill began coming into the master
bedroom in the wee hours of the morning crying, wanting to get into bed with us. I put up with this for several days. I assumed that it was due to the new environment, or maybe the fact that her brother Jake was a newborn and she was a little jealous, as his crib was in our room.
Anyone who has ever slept with an active three year old, knows that the three year old is the only one who gets any sleep, so it wasn’t long before I started sending her back to her room. But as small children tend to do, she persevered to the point that I had to do something.
One morning, after she’d beaten her father and I half to death in her sleep all night, I decided to get to the bottom of the problem. I found her in the living room standing in front of the television watching cartoons. Only a wily energetic child stands to watch television. I knelt down and smiled at her.
“Jill, honey, why can’t you sleep in your bed? You’re a big girl, you’ve had your own bed for a long time. Don’t you like your new room?”
Her lower lip came out and she tucked her hands behind her back, and rocked back and forth, as she gazed at me with big brown eyes.
“Well then, why don’t you sleep in your bed?”
“Because of the monster lady.”
“What? What are you talking about, honey?”
“She has long white hair, and no....no face.” She twisted her chubby little hands together, and her
lower lip started to tremble. “She has blood all over her.” She said, and made a face.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. Jill was not allowed to watch anything even remotely scary. She wasn’t even allowed to watch Scooby Doo. I could not for the life of me imagine where she could get such an idea.
“Jillian. I think you just had a bad dream.” I stood up and walked to the kitchen and she
“No,” she shook her head frowning, “she comes in my room and closes the door and sits in front of it so I can’t get out.”
She rested one hand on the counter and gazed up at me. I had no idea what to say to this child. I just stared at her as her eyes began to fill with tears. Whether it was a dream or not, it was very real to her, and my heart went out to her.
“I’ll tell you what. Tonight I will come and sleep with you in your room and if the monster
lady comes back I will tell her that she is not allowed to come back anymore. Okay?”
She started jumping up and down and clapping her hands, and I felt like a female version of John Wayne.
That night I put her to bed at the usual time and promised that I would see her in a little while. I went about my normal routine, bathing Jake, putting him to bed, cleaning up the kitchen and getting ready for bed myself. At about ten o’clock I crept to the door of her room and peeked in. I eyed her tiny bed and was debating backing out of my deal when something happened that sent a chill straight up my back.
Even though I hadn’t made a sound, she sat bolt upright out of a dead sleep, clutching the covers to her chin, her eyes were wide open, panicked, and when she spoke, her voice shook with fear.
“I thought you were the monster lady!” Then she started to cry.
“No, no, it’s just me honey, it’s just me.”
Without another thought I walked to the side of her bed.
“Scooch over.” I said.
I crawled in beside her and she immediately began to calm down. She went back to sleep right away, her hand resting on my cheek. While I waited for sleep I gazed around the room, trying to figure out why she didn’t like it. That had to be it. What she was saying didn’t make any sense.
The light from her aquarium glowed softly, giving the room a dim quality that was tailor made for a three year old to fall asleep in. Just enough light. The fish made lazy circles, almost hypnotic in their slow, calm movements. Her stuffed animals lined the shelves above her bed, almost as though they were watching over her. I finally drifted off to sleep, perplexed. I just couldn’t figure it out.
Shortly after I went to sleep I woke to the sound of a loud bang. I sat up and glanced around the room. Could a book have fallen to the floor? Maybe I was in that stage between sleeping and wakefulness and had just imagined that I had heard the noise. Anyway there was nothing in the room that could be attributed to it, so I lay down and went back to sleep. It seemed I no sooner got back to sleep when I heard someone
pounding frantically on the front door. I threw back the covers and raced through the house.
The first thing I noticed, was that despite the fact that my husband slept in our bed which was right against the front porch, he hadn’t stirred, and he is an extremely light sleeper. A mouse can pass gas in the kitchen at two a.m. and he can tell you how big he is, what color he is, and what he had for dinner. But here he was, sleeping like a rock after all that racket.
There was no one at the door. The porch light was on and I bent down could clearly see through the bedroom window that the front porch was deserted. I headed back to bed, a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I noticed as I left my room, that the red digital numbers on the bedside clock read exactly midnight.
The next morning, our landlady, who lived next door, came over for coffee as she had done almost daily since we moved in, and I jokingly told her what had been going on.
“Nobody is getting any sleep around here except the baby, and last night I could have sworn I heard someone banging on the front door at midnight, but when I went to look there was no one there.”
I watched as her expression changed to one that made me very uneasy.
“If I had had any idea....” She began.
“What? What is it?”
“The woman who lived here before you was an alcoholic. She told me strange things. Like the way that bedroom door always closed by itself...” she indicated Jill’s bedroom door, “and I never believed her, I thought it was the alcohol talking, you know.” She shuddered. “If you want out of your lease, I’ll understand.”
“Wait, wait, wait....what is going on?”
“You mean you didn’t know? I thought surely one of the neighbors would have told you
“Told me WHAT?”
“Several years ago, a young girl rented this house. She and her boyfriend were going to move in together. She moved in but on the day he was supposed to move in, he called her and told her that he had changed his mind. That he had met someone else. She was devastated. She kept calling him all day, and into the night. Finally she threatened suicide.
He called her bluff, but when she stopped calling he got nervous, so he tried to call her and she didn’t answer the phone, so he called the police. They came to my door asking for a key to get in as she was not answering the door. The officer tried one last time, pounding on the door, and then I unlocked it. It was straight up midnight.”
I shuddered when I remembered the digital clock in the bedroom.
“They found her in what is now Jill’s room, her body sitting propped against the closed door. They had to force it open. She had shot herself. It was a terrible shame. She was a beautiful girl with long blonde hair and the force of the shot destroyed her face.”
A monster lady with long white hair and no face.
Things started clicking into place at a faster rate than I was comfortable with. I glanced at
Jillian where she sat engrossed in Sesame Street and I was overcome with a guilt like I had never before and have never since felt. If I choose to believe that this child had seen something and in my opinion, all the evidence pointed to the fact that she did, based on my own strange experiences, then I can only imagine what 'no face' must have looked like to her. On top of that, I hadn’t believed her, and furthermore, I had sent her back to her room to face this nightmare, time after time.
“I just...I never thought that...I mean I never realized.....you know that! I would never
have rented to you if I thought...” The land lady was stammering and tripping all over her words.
“I know.” I said quickly. I believed her. Had I not experienced what I had firsthand, I wouldn’t have believed it myself. “I know. But we will be looking for another house. I have to tell you Mrs. B., I have never felt comfortable in this house, I just didn’t know why.”
We moved shortly after that and in the mean time I set up a bed in my room for Jill and she slept with us until we moved and for quite awhile after we moved, until she began to trust the new house. They say that children and animals have a sixth sense and can see things that we adults cannot, and as far as I’m concerned, I am convinced that this is true. You....will have to make up your own mind.
P.S.,I may have posted this here last year, so if you read it already, sorry about that.