Landlord left his farmhouse, rented it out to us. We figured out why eventually.

My family hasn’t ever been wealthy enough to settle down anywhere (and that’s absolutely fine with me) so we keep renting out houses and moving from place to place every few years.

We aren’t poor, so we do rent houses that are in the country side preferably, and have some acres of land. This means that they are usually houses that are out on their own. So we found a perfect match to suit our needs, and moved into a farmhouse by a stream.

Landlord was a normal guy, he was about 35 years old or so. Didn’t seem superstitious or the type of guy that would believe in anything paranormal.

So we settled in and I really liked it. It was quiet secluded and pretty out here. The only unsettling thing we knew about it was apparently some weirdly cut rock was a burial stone (must have been really ancient, it was a strange rock, I think it was some celtic thing not 100% on that).

It took a few months for things to start going wrong. It all started with bad dreams. Really bad dreams. Nothing that ever happened at first would translate into the real world. It was all at night. It was just fear. I was okay with it. Of course after all these bad dreams I became more on edge, a random creaking noise in the house I would have dismissed before would put me on alert, people not knocking on my door and just entering would give me a fair fright. I didn’t talk about any of these occurrences to my family. However, my nights started becoming unbearable. So much so, that I felt like some presence was telling me to leave. I don’t mean this lightly. I feel heavy just writing about it.

I was dreaming of some fight happening in our family, people screaming, crying. In the dream I was going up a spiral flight of stairs that was similar to a different one we had in one of our rented houses (the dream borrowed some assets from different dwelling places I had throughout my life). When I reached the top, there was some aggressive knocking at a door. I didn’t see what was knocking , but I knew what it was. A while ago I had a nightmare in which a witch that had features similar to that of the one in Spirited Away was smothering me. The knocking was loud… sharp, and rapid.

And then I woke up.

I quickly realized someone was actually running up the stairs. I lay frozen and assumed it’s my dad going to my mother’s room. Some urgent news in the middle of the night? Then, to my utter bafflement, my bedroom door practically *blasted* open. It was some serious force exertion. I heard the wood crack. Without thinking about it I snapped out of bed and went straight to my mother’s room to investigate, if maybe my dad just fucked something up and burst into my room (like an idiot, because why would he blast it open like that?) but of course my mother was asleep. It terrified me. I just went back to bed and reflected on the situation. I couldn’t find any logical explanation for the occurrence. My biggest regret now is not checking up on the damage on the door. That would have probably been a good indicator on whether this happened in my head or in the real world. Honestly I don’t know which I’d prefer. I like to think I’m in control in my mind, but I also like to think that if spirits are real, they cannot manifest in the physical world with such force. It’s terrifying.

I kept quiet about this too. For a while. It’s funny though, because I feel like my entire family had suffered a breaking point at around the same time. The deciding night for me was when I had been in bed, and heard someone walking towards me. No fear, because I (thought?) I was awake and my mom was checking up on me. This being that either existed in my mind or in the real world knelled down to my face and began whispering. Eerily she resembled my mother, but more spectral and sickly. She was not my mother. She was some sort of robe similar to my mother but she was not my mother. As I comprehended that fact she *floated* and I mean *floated* over to my sister and began whispering something too. This experience upsets me now as I write it because if it was real it was very likely not a being from the house but the ghost of my grandmother that I never met. I saw a few pictures of her and she always eerily resembled my mother. Maybe it was her, maybe it was my mind, maybe it was just a spirit that happened to look similar. The point is all around that made me upset and now I was going to start talking about this to my family.

I can’t say it was a relief altogether, but it was something when I heard that my sister and mother experienced things very similar and disturbing at times in the night. It was all accounts that amounted very much to what I wrote, except some of their situations took place in the afternoon, or morning, but they were always alone. A tendency I discovered before I even spoke is that they had a strong feeling of someone watching before anything happened. I had the same. They felt cold. I also felt cold. etc etc.

So now we were out in the open about it and we concluded that upstairs something sinister was happening either when we were alone or at night.

It wasn’t until my mother was so wrecked after a bad night and the landlord came over to visit and noticed. This is her recount of the encounter (I was not present): So, I was tired, and somewhat startled and that must have shown on my face. John just smiled at me and said “What’s wrong? Trouble sleeping?” of course this was an obvious question to ask but then he went on “I didn’t sleep upstairs for my last few days. Fucking impossible. I hear them. Something is out here and I can’t explain what”.

So basically I understand they shared some of their experiences and now everyone who slept upstairs could agree that something was amiss. To further reinforce the idea of something mad happening in this home, when my mother’s friend flew over and slept in her room, she would wake her up in the middle of the night to say she heard someone walking, and then that she would see a figure approaching or whatever it may have been.

So basically for the rest of my time at the house anytime my family would go shopping and I’d be home alone I would experience in-explainable things. Extremely hard stomping around upstairs, dragging sounds that are really loud, the ground would shake until I left certain rooms. Honestly I would just get lost if I tried to go through them all. Certain little doors would be forced open, (they were fuckin hard to move man).

The worst thing that ever happened there and that made me want to make this post was the incident with the chalk drawing I made. I have it here in front of me now, I mainly keep it because my mother adores it (she doesn’t even know what it is, she thinks it’s a wolf, so I told her she’s right ).

Basically, if you get your hands on it, they will be chalking. Sometimes in the middle of the night I would be touched by a cold hand from the right side of my bed. Where the drawing was. I felt like something was always on that side of the bed. Then one morning I came to find that there were little hand prints leading up the wall and then across the sealing. Very hard evidence of foul play.

I called my mother in to look at it, she took some shitty pictures of it (may upload them if I find them again, just don’t want family seeing this post) and I could also upload a pic of the chalk drawing itself, because it is kinda creepy on it’s own. I made it when I was 6 and it looks like a miserable animal, but everyone always told me it was quite impressive for my age.

Not too long after that we also moved, not because we were scared shitless (but we were) but because we had to move. I thought maybe the bad voodoo or whatever would follow me forever.

Thank god. Only one fucked thing happened in this new house and it was harmless, not even worthy of getting worried about. (you know that box in the conjuring that plays that weird music, that played in the gallery room and my sister and I heard it, later my mom reported hearing it too in the middle of the night without my sister and I revealing our own intel.)

But yeah. No hallucinations. No bad dreams. No nothing. My whole family is fine now, and we don’t experience any bad things in this new house that have anything to do with the paranormal, which makes me think even more that something with that farmhouse was incredible. Everyone that ever lived there had some story to tell. I could drone about that house for a long time if I were in a voicecall with someone, but heres the gist of it. Thanks for reading.

EDIT: I forgot to mention that whenever an experience with any entity I could actually see would happen, exclusively during the night, while my room is lit up with the blue light of the moon, I would hear a gust of air traversing around the room, and it would suddenly get very cold. Then wherever the cold feeling would originate is where the entity would form. I am pretty sure at those times I was fully awake because the cold air moving around the room each time with a single audible gust it could last for hours until I saw whatever it may be. It could traverse from room to room. Sometimes it would hover over my bed and it would be extremely horrifying. I remember laying as still as possible and sweating like a pig every night nearly if it hovered right over me. Then I could feel how cold and loud the gust was. It would hover over me for a particularly longer time than around the room in general.



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