Subject: WWW Form Submission
Date: Tue, 3 Oct 2006 15:35:34 -0700 (PDT)
Four years ago, (I was 9 at the time) me and my family all lived in a house with our gandparents. We always visited my other grandmother, who lived alone. She had a really creepy house. Whenever we visited (me and my brothers or sister would spend the night there to keep her company), we would have EXTREMELY scary experiences. Up until I was 9, I had hardly had any encounters with ghosts, but then it started to occur more frequently. I would hear really loud stomping over me and the chandelier would start shaking, it was like having an elephant running around upstairs. I remember, I would be really annoyed, and go upstairs to see what was up. My brother loved to jump around, but he was next to me, watching T.V. And it was common sense that grandmothers didn't start jumping around like that. Of course, I went upstairs, and found nothing. Other times, when I was in my grandmother's room, about to go to sleep (she had a king-sized bed, that we both slept in together) but the traditional dolls she kept in her room would start opening their eyes by themselves or start floating or even, I swear, DANCING. I would be so freaked out, I'd try to wake my grandmother, but she didn't believe in ghosts, and as usual, whenever I pointed something strange out to her, she'd just scoff. But I would also hear a girl crying, or when we had a dog, "someone" played catch with it and threw the ball around. My dad and his friends had always heard the stomping. He said they'd also seen one of my grandmother's treasured antique dolls in the toy box, or girls clothes or jewelry being taken out of my suitcase as if someone had tried them on. But, about 3 months before I turned 10, my grandmother said that she wanted to move, not because she was scared of the ghost, but because the house was ugly and too small. Everyone in my family agreed, but me and my two younger brothers and older sister all were glad that we never had to visit this horrifyngly scary house. The best part was, our grandmother decided she would find a house for all of us to live in: me, my parents, my sister, my brothers, my other grandmother and grandfather, and now, my second grandmother, who didn't have to live alone and take care of such a hufe, old house. After all, cleaning was difficult, and she wanted company, so now we would all be one, big happy family. But that's not the end. As I was saying, 3 months before I turned 10, we started packing up everything in the house, because we had already found and bought a BRAND-NEW house that had been completed only a year before, with a swimming pool and enough room in the yard to get a dog and our own treehouse. Me and my syblings were so cheerful, we didn't mind doing most of the moving, we even ignored the ghost-girl, forgetting to be scared. But, when my mother said we had to do the attic next, BOY did my blood freeze! The attic was where the ghost-girl always disapeared to, the rooftop was where we always saw the girl sitting on during storms, and the worst part was that the attic had A LOT of stuff there, so we would be spending practically a week hauling all that junk out of there! We were really scared, but my mom just snapped at us because she knew we were scared of the ghost, and she had lectured herself hoarse about there being "no ghosts" even though we told her about all those weird things going on. But, to cheer us up, she did say that in the attic, my aunt had all these cute dresses from the 70s stashed up there, not to mention some darts and a dart board for my borthers, even a mini basketball hoop. I was excited, because I was going to be a hippie that Halloween, so we decided to go for it. When we were up there the first couple of times, nothing happened. We even started making daily trips up there, during our break, just to explore. But soon, REALLY scary things would happen. And they were so scary because that ghost-girl was MAD and would throw fits. And chairs. And one time, even a dart. I would be sitting next to the window that looked out on the street, and there would be this chair that belonged to my grandmother that she stashed up in the attic because it was annoying. Then this voice would scream "Go away! That's where I sit!" and she'd kock the chair over with such great force. Or, when I found a little box of cute barbie dolls and clothes, the ghost-girl would snatch it away from me, and I'd hear her screaming in my ear (litterally!) "Don't touch that, it's mine!"..I would run away from the attic, because I was scared. Things got steadily worse. Things would go missing, the ghost-girl would appear at least once a day and scare the peepins out of everybody. She would start stealing things from me, too, and claim them as "hers". She also took those traditional dolls of my grandmother's. Finally, we moved, and at last, we all got into the car, and started to drive away, when I looked and saw a cold, white face stare out the attic window. I had heard voices the night before telling me to not leave or to give the stuff back. But I will never forget that face in the attic window. Mad, pale, and GHOSTLY.