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My Grandparents Haunted House
Growing up, I always subconsciously knew something was wrong with my grandparent's house.
I even remember making jokes about the house having a poltergeist.
I never really believed in the supernatural, even though I was raised Catholic.
I basically approached the thought of ghosts with healthy caution and knew not to poke into things.
Paranormal things did occur growing up, but I chalked it all up to my anxiety(I will get into that later).
However, things became real for me at the age of fifteen.
Sleeping over at my grandparent's house always sucked.
There felt like a visible shift in the house once night approached.
My anxiety would spike, and I found it hard to sleep generally.
On this eventful night, I slept alone in a spare room meant for the grandchildren.
I woke up at three Am on the dot, at the time, I knew nothing about the witching hour.
I woke up from the sound coming outside my room's door.
The noise of claws clanking on the hardwood went on for a few minutes, seeming to pace outside of my room.
They had no pets and the sound was so loud that it could not have come from a mouse.
The next morning, I told my grandmother about the noises.
She blamed it on squirrels on the roof, which made no sense to me.
More days passed before I offhandedly mentioned it to my uncle(three years older/raised as siblings)(bestowing him the name Poopy for the post) joking about it.
Poopy asked for further clarification, and I can still remember how the color drained from his face.
I thought he was scared the house had mutant rats or something, till he interrogated me for all the details.
Questions that stuck out were asking for the exact time and even questioning me which places in the house made me the most uncomfortable.
I went along with it really confused.
All three places I named were already agreed upon as peak paranormal activity spots of the house, unknown to my knowledge.
Turns out my oldest uncle(let's call him Mister F) had hidden from the family what he was experiencing.
Poopy blabbed out all the stories Mister F had only opened up about to him, only days prior. Mister F was fully moved out of the house for years at this point.
It's not my place to tell Mister F's side of the story, as he tries his best to distance himself from it.
For how awful things got for him on the spooky scale, I am going to give it a solid nine.
On the other hand, for me, I would give it a five and Poopy a three.
Mister F wasn't the one to bring this negative entity in, but most certainly perpetuated the problem.
He poked the bear and made things a million times worse for himself.
Instead of addressing or ignoring the issue at the first encounter, he ultimately decided to dive into the dark side of the occult.
He fed into it and perpetuated the problem enough that the negative entity latched onto him and still is.
I believe the entity was trying to have Poopy and I repeat that cycle, while we still lived at the house.
Odd things started happening out of nowhere after.
For example, I got ads on my YouTube feed relating to topics like the witching hour or the occult, for weeks afterward.
I had my phone nowhere near me during the initial conversation, so my phone's microphone could not have picked it up.
I only watched Jenna Marbles on YouTube, so it was really weird.
What makes two out of these three spots unique from the rest of the house is who originally occupied them.
Spot one was the room my father(Voldermert) and Mister F shared as kids.
Mister F had moved into the grandkid room, spot two, to escape the problem poorly.
Voldemort seems to have started the problem.
He has a laundry list of mental illnesses, including schizophrenia, but there is something wrong with him on a deeper level.
Mister F blames Voldemort for letting whatever negative entity in.
I have no clue about the specifics.
It was bad enough though that during their childhood, multiple incidents of the cross in their room would flip upside down or fall due to Voldemort's presence in the room.
To add legitimacy to Mister F's claims, my mother witnessed the same thing on various occasions during their marriage at my old apartment.
She actually brought up a story recently that made me feel sick to the stomach.
After my parents were separated, my mother got our once-shared home blessed.
The priest raised his concerns about my father, but my mom was skeptical and blamed it on mental illness.
The very same day, Voldemort made a surprise visit to the apartment.
My mother invited him in, and he refused to even step through the threshold of the doorway.
This was uncharacteristic behavior from him and still stands as very odd.
Voldemort is completely out of the picture now in both of our lives.
Sometimes, I question if everything he saw was truly delusional, like the shadow people that followed him.
I still feel stupid for not realizing sooner that the negative entity had been messing with me for years up to that night.
Spot one(after it was abandoned by Mister F) was converted into a guest bedroom.
I was unfortunate enough to be its first new guest.
This started the paranormal bull crap for me. I only stayed in that room for one week at thirteen years old, which managed to escalate to that claw thing years later.
Night one of that week, I experienced one of the worst panic attacks of my life.
I also proceeded to be violently ill with the stomach virus for the entire week.
Textbook ghost stuff occurred like my technology unexplainably not working and it is freezing in only that room.
Once my mom got back from her business trip and took me home, I felt instantly better.
I refused to even go into that room after that.
In my gut, I knew something was off in there.
Then I started to see unexplainable shadows appearing or moving around the house, which didn't stop till I said I didn't welcome it and to leave me alone.
I said that not honestly believing there was a ghost.
The nausea problem persisted all three years at the house to the point I was rapidly losing weight.
I even went to the doctor about this and the meds she prescribed me didn't do much.
Problems didn't stop till I stopped visiting the house as often.
I had a falling out with my grandparents for a separate reason, which is almost a relief because I never have to step foot in that house again.
This was so therapeutic to finally write out.
Post from user Lovelypearltears at at reddit.
Growing up, I always subconsciously knew something was wrong with my grandparent's house.
I even remember making jokes about the house having a poltergeist.
I never really believed in the supernatural, even though I was raised Catholic.
I basically approached the thought of ghosts with healthy caution and knew not to poke into things.
Paranormal things did occur growing up, but I chalked it all up to my anxiety(I will get into that later).
However, things became real for me at the age of fifteen.
Sleeping over at my grandparent's house always sucked.
There felt like a visible shift in the house once night approached.
My anxiety would spike, and I found it hard to sleep generally.
On this eventful night, I slept alone in a spare room meant for the grandchildren.
I woke up at three Am on the dot, at the time, I knew nothing about the witching hour.
I woke up from the sound coming outside my room's door.
The noise of claws clanking on the hardwood went on for a few minutes, seeming to pace outside of my room.
They had no pets and the sound was so loud that it could not have come from a mouse.
The next morning, I told my grandmother about the noises.
She blamed it on squirrels on the roof, which made no sense to me.
More days passed before I offhandedly mentioned it to my uncle(three years older/raised as siblings)(bestowing him the name Poopy for the post) joking about it.
Poopy asked for further clarification, and I can still remember how the color drained from his face.
I thought he was scared the house had mutant rats or something, till he interrogated me for all the details.
Questions that stuck out were asking for the exact time and even questioning me which places in the house made me the most uncomfortable.
I went along with it really confused.
All three places I named were already agreed upon as peak paranormal activity spots of the house, unknown to my knowledge.
Turns out my oldest uncle(let's call him Mister F) had hidden from the family what he was experiencing.
Poopy blabbed out all the stories Mister F had only opened up about to him, only days prior. Mister F was fully moved out of the house for years at this point.
It's not my place to tell Mister F's side of the story, as he tries his best to distance himself from it.
For how awful things got for him on the spooky scale, I am going to give it a solid nine.
On the other hand, for me, I would give it a five and Poopy a three.
Mister F wasn't the one to bring this negative entity in, but most certainly perpetuated the problem.
He poked the bear and made things a million times worse for himself.
Instead of addressing or ignoring the issue at the first encounter, he ultimately decided to dive into the dark side of the occult.
He fed into it and perpetuated the problem enough that the negative entity latched onto him and still is.
I believe the entity was trying to have Poopy and I repeat that cycle, while we still lived at the house.
Odd things started happening out of nowhere after.
For example, I got ads on my YouTube feed relating to topics like the witching hour or the occult, for weeks afterward.
I had my phone nowhere near me during the initial conversation, so my phone's microphone could not have picked it up.
I only watched Jenna Marbles on YouTube, so it was really weird.
What makes two out of these three spots unique from the rest of the house is who originally occupied them.
Spot one was the room my father(Voldermert) and Mister F shared as kids.
Mister F had moved into the grandkid room, spot two, to escape the problem poorly.
Voldemort seems to have started the problem.
He has a laundry list of mental illnesses, including schizophrenia, but there is something wrong with him on a deeper level.
Mister F blames Voldemort for letting whatever negative entity in.
I have no clue about the specifics.
It was bad enough though that during their childhood, multiple incidents of the cross in their room would flip upside down or fall due to Voldemort's presence in the room.
To add legitimacy to Mister F's claims, my mother witnessed the same thing on various occasions during their marriage at my old apartment.
She actually brought up a story recently that made me feel sick to the stomach.
After my parents were separated, my mother got our once-shared home blessed.
The priest raised his concerns about my father, but my mom was skeptical and blamed it on mental illness.
The very same day, Voldemort made a surprise visit to the apartment.
My mother invited him in, and he refused to even step through the threshold of the doorway.
This was uncharacteristic behavior from him and still stands as very odd.
Voldemort is completely out of the picture now in both of our lives.
Sometimes, I question if everything he saw was truly delusional, like the shadow people that followed him.
I still feel stupid for not realizing sooner that the negative entity had been messing with me for years up to that night.
Spot one(after it was abandoned by Mister F) was converted into a guest bedroom.
I was unfortunate enough to be its first new guest.
This started the paranormal bull crap for me. I only stayed in that room for one week at thirteen years old, which managed to escalate to that claw thing years later.
Night one of that week, I experienced one of the worst panic attacks of my life.
I also proceeded to be violently ill with the stomach virus for the entire week.
Textbook ghost stuff occurred like my technology unexplainably not working and it is freezing in only that room.
Once my mom got back from her business trip and took me home, I felt instantly better.
I refused to even go into that room after that.
In my gut, I knew something was off in there.
Then I started to see unexplainable shadows appearing or moving around the house, which didn't stop till I said I didn't welcome it and to leave me alone.
I said that not honestly believing there was a ghost.
The nausea problem persisted all three years at the house to the point I was rapidly losing weight.
I even went to the doctor about this and the meds she prescribed me didn't do much.
Problems didn't stop till I stopped visiting the house as often.
I had a falling out with my grandparents for a separate reason, which is almost a relief because I never have to step foot in that house again.
This was so therapeutic to finally write out.
Post from user Lovelypearltears at at reddit.