10-06-2016, 03:47 PM
(10-06-2016, 10:10 AM)WeezyBengal Wrote: I can share you the stories that my friend told me when he was growing up in his house:
His mom would lose her wedding right quite often. She would put it in her ring holder thing (little plate) and it would turn up missing. She would go a few days without being able to find it and then it would just show up right back in the ring holder.
My friend also told me that quite often when he was sleeping he would feel someone pushing down on his chest. He also said that he would feel a cold tingly sensation on his feet in the middle of the night.
One of the more traumatic episodes he had was when he was home alone. He said he was in the kitchen making a sandwhich late at night when from the corner of his eye he saw something run past him, up the stairs, and slam one of the doors. He thought it was his brother getting home late at night so he ignored it. Turns out when he went upstairs no one was home.
Apparently their house was built on a plot of land that had some history behind it. They found out that a man once proposed to a woman there, she said no, and he then hung himself on a tree there. I believe they said they researched it through old newspaper articles.
This is the same guy I was telling you about above that started breaking down when he was telling me all this stuff. I 100% believe him.
Similar story. One of my closest friends in grade school lived in a place like that. It's actually one of the oldest homes on this side of town. I want to say it was built in the mid 1800's. Really cool place. Anyways, he had a ton of stories. Not only him, but his mom, brother, sister all swore by them. The mom actually said they didn't bother her at all and she'd somewhat talk to them jokingly when stuff would happen (she was weird).
All I know is spending the night there was a literal nightmare. For some reason the system went like this, if he had more than 1 person over for a sleepover, one would sleep upstairs in his room with him, and the other one (or two) would be relegated to the couches downstairs. You never wanted to be sleeping downstairs by yourself. That shit sucked when you're 12. They had this painting in the living room that basically came with the house. It was some old lady from way back when. His goofy hippie mom thought it was neat and decided to keep it and hung it there. I can vividly remember trying like hell to fall asleep, scared and pissed off because I got the couch, and looking at the terrifying painting in the dark. Just thinking about now is making me a little nervous.
Needless to say, when I stayed there I got about 1 hour of sleep. But he did have Mortal Combat so it was a decent enough trade off.
