August 9, 2006
Our Haunted HouseRate this encounter: [Name withheld upon request], Waterbury, Connecticut, 1990s
My family lived in this house that we knew was haunted. We had an ongoing moth and fly problem and many strange things happened there. Many people had died there, including a man who hung himself in the basement and a lady who died of illness on the stairwell. At this time, my family consisted of my mom, my dad, my brother, my sister, me, two cats, and two dogs.
When we first moved in, my mother was very uncomfortable, so she made sure that there was a cross in each room, and she blessed every room of the house with holy water. The refrigerator in the house had its own little cubby, but our fridge didn't fit in it quite right, so my dad crammed a piece of wood in the opening. One day, when my parents were talking about God, and saints, and religion, that piece of wood that was nearly impossible to get into the spot, easily worked itself out of the hole and shot across the room at my mother. It would not fit back into the hole.
Then one night when my sister was a baby, my mother was awakened by a lady at the foot of the bed telling her to go check on the baby. So my mom, half asleep, went into my sister's room and saw that my sister had the blanket around her neck.
My basement was probably the worst spot in the house. When you went down there and closed the door behind you, you would often get locked in there, you always felt like you were being watched, and no one would go down there alone. When one of my cats went down there, he came up bald. When we took him to the vet, the vet said that he probably licked all the fur off, but there was no fur or furballs in the house at all.
Over the course of a Connecticut winter, a lot of snow accumulates. My father, who is a paramedic, would often wear his heavy snowboots to work, and they made a heavy stomping sound, no matter how softly he walked. One snowy day, me and my mom, who was addicted to Sega Genesis, were playing a Sonic the Hedgehog game when we heard the door open and my dad's boots clomping around near the front door. Thinking that he came home to have lunch with us, as he so often did, me and my mom raced out to the living room where the front door was only to find that there was no one there. There were no footprints in the newly fallen snow, no tire tracks from the ambulance he drove, and no snow on the rug near the door.
My sister would never leave our room without turning on the light in the hallway, and she hated going to bed alone because she was always afraid of the man she said stood outside of our bedroom door.
In 1997, we moved out of that house and to a new one in a different town. We have kept in touch with our old neighbors who still live next door to that house, and according to them, people never stay in that house for over a year, and they still have problems with the moths and flies. They demolished all of the interior walls and redid the house, thinking it would get rid of what ever was there, but apparently they still have the same problems we did.