My Grandmother’s Haunted House
This is the story of what happened to me in 2011 when I was 7. I’m 14 years old now and even the thought of talking about this sends chills through my spine. A word of caution: this might be too freaky for some of you, but I promise, this is all real and actually happened.
I grew up with my grandmother, father, mother and two dogs quite far from any town. The house was big so I usually played hide-and-seek with my mom. I don’t remember exactly which month this took place, but my mom remembers it being the month of October. This one particular day, my dad was out driving my grandma to the hospital as she had an appointment with the doctor. So I was left alone with my mom.
After several rounds of hide and seek and watching a movie with my mom, it began to get dark outside and my dad still wasn’t home. I’ve always been scared of potential home invasions so I was paranoid all day because my dad wasn’t with us. He made me feel very safe.
My mom and I decided to play Monopoly. When I was 7, I was mischievous and tried to steal money from my mom’s Monopoly stash. Now that I think back, she was probably pretending not to see. As I was taking a $50 bill from her Monopoly cash, she said: “The power will go out soon.” This left me completely puzzled as I had no idea how she’d know this.
But sure enough, it went out about 15 minutes later and I started to panic because, as most little kids, I was scared of the dark. (I later found out that there was a power outage in my area because of a storm and my mom had been notified of it.)
She handed me this Nokia phone and let me play my favorite game on it, which at the time was ‘Doom’. She told me to go hide under the bed sheets if I felt scared and that she’d be back soon. I asked where she was going but she didn’t answer. Strange.
As she headed out of the room, she locked the door. I laid under the sheets, killing some monsters on the game for what felt like hours but was probably only 5 minutes. Children have no concept of time.
I suddenly heard footsteps in the kitchen, which was next to the room I was in. So I took the sheets off my head and yelled out “MOM?”
At this point, I just felt glad that she’d finally come back because I was really scared. However, she didn’t answer me. The footsteps didn’t stop either, so I yelled again “Mom can you please come? I’m scared!”
After I shouted, the footsteps stopped completely. I got a sudden rush of adrenaline so I held tight onto the phone and dashed out of the room to the kitchen, which was empty. I was puzzled but didn’t wait for long as I ran to the door, unlocked it and ran to the corridor.
What do I do?
The corridor had four doors and one at the very back which I never was allowed to go in. (I later learned that the room was where my great-grandma died and no one had touched it ever since.) It also had stairs next to it leading to the second floor and one at the front which led to the outside.
I ran for the outside door ready to run out but the rush of adrenaline was gone and I got scared of the outside too. It was very dark and I was barely able to see. My only choices were:
- Go back to the room I came from.
- Scream for my mother.
I decided to scream for Mom over and over again. I guess I wasn’t loud enough because there were no replies. I remember starting to sweat and panic, different scenarios playing through my little head.
Scenarios like: A murderer killing my mom and coming for me next or my mom leaving me forever. I know, stupid, but I was only 7 after all and children’s imaginations are a remarkable thing.
I remember looking down at my feet and beginning to cry. I heard more footsteps … but this time – behind me. I looked behind me and saw a silhouette of a tall person (which I assumed was a man) at the end of the hallway, standing in front of the door. I couldn’t see what he looked like because it was so dark. I stayed frozen and stared at him for about 15 seconds in pure horror.
My heart was pounding. I bolted outside and ran towards the outhouse, only to be greeted by my mother who looked worried as hell. I told her what happened through uncontrollable sobs. My dad was just arriving in the driveway, parking his car. My granny was still at the hospital for some treatments. My father searched the house but no one was found. My mom dismissed my claims and told me it was just my imagination… but I know what I saw and heard.
Fast forward 7 more years. I’m 14 now and we have since moved into a different house. I randomly remembered this incident and talked to my mom about it. She seemed quite hesitant to talk to me about it but in the end, I convinced her to tell me everything. What she said gave me chills.
When I was 4
Apparently, when I was 4, I started to stare at one particular corner in the kitchen and laugh like a crazy person. My mom asked me what was so funny and every time, I would point to the same corner but never told her why it was funny.
After a few months, the random giggles I let out while staring at the corner didn’t stop. What made my mom lose it was the fact that I started speaking random German words that I had never heard before. We have no relatives who are German or can speak German and I didn’t have access to learn it on the computer at that age either. They took me to the hospital to have me looked at and the doctors were stumped. I was a normal kid!
Why was I speaking German? How did I learn those words? My mother knew it was German because she can actually speak a little bit but never spoke it to me. She bribed me with candy to tell her how I learned to say the following words in German: “it”, “help”, “chocolate”, “shower”, and “war”.
He taught me how
My response completely shocked her. I pointed to the same corner again and said, “He taught me how.”
My mom kept her cool and asked me who I was talking about.
I said, “The man who makes me laugh.” Then I let out another freaky maniacal laugh! (according to her)
My mom asked me what he looked like but all I ever said was that he looked like a shadow and that he was from Germany.
When she asked where the man lived, I would point to the second floor. This all made sense because I always hated the second floor and never went up there because I felt like I was being watched.
My parents took it upon themselves to Google the history of the house and, sure enough, it was built by Germans. I don’t remember any of this but my mom kept on insisting that it happened. She would never lie to me.
My father said he remembers it too but was completely against telling me. I imagine that he wished it would go away forever like a bad dream. I talked to the German man in the corner until I was 5 years old.
Cold dead eyes
I’m pretty sure you can put two and two together. But if not, here’s the bottom line: The man I saw when I was 7 was the same man I talked to when I was 4.
Every time I go back to visit my grandma, who still lives in that house, I always feel uneasy. I often hear a sound and turn my head to see him standing there. My eyes lock with his cold dead eyes.