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This ghost story is rated Mature by its author, and contains material meant for readers 18+

The Ghost I grew up with.

The Ghost I grew up with.

I never knew the real name of the Ghost I grew up with..
We moved into a 150 year old farmhouse when I was 2, as long as I can remember someone/something walked through my room..Whatever it was, would stop and it felt like, just "hung out". I do not remember being afraid ever, possibly early memories of wondering what it was.  At one point I started calling it "John", I always felt like it was an older man. My family thought of it as, my "imaginary friend". I thought of John, as something of a very quiet friend.
 By the time I was a teenager, I figured out that speaking to others about "John" was something to avoid, except an elderly neighbor, who was the Mother of the Lady my parents bought the house from, and knew it well, told me to the story that the original owner and builder of that house, hung himself in the attic space. That would have been the late 70s and without the internet and a teenager, my search for his real name ran dry.

There was an entrance into the attic on the 2nd story, through the door that led into something of a cross between a tunnel and a closet. Interestingly, everyone(including my parents) hated even opening that door. (Christmas decorations were stored there) but only once did anyone else ever admit to experiencing "John" as I did.  There was a very drastic difference in the energy of what was in my room, and opening the door of that closet. I actually did not associate the two as the same entity, because of how different they felt.

In 1990 my Parents decided to sell the farm, to my great dismay.. They had received a very large offer from a commercial developer that planned to turn our farm  into condominiums. From the day they accepted the offer, things in our family changed. There was incredible fighting, which I suppose most would attribute to the stress of selling our home of 23 years.. It was an idyllic farmhouse and enormous red barn on 40 acres, that had been the home of endless horses, cows, goats, sheep, pigs throughout my life..  For my family to be disturbed by the reality of it being bulldozed, made sense.. Although the sale was in process, my parents were allowed to keep possession of the house for over a year, as the development company was getting permits etc. My family continued to live there for that time, while my parents were remodeling a hunting lodge and campground they had purchased in Eastern Washington.. The energy of the house changed and it felt dark, and for the first time I was constantly uncomfortable and even scared in the house.. Everyone in the house seemed depressed and "different"  In Sept of 1991 only months before we were due to give possession of the house to the dev company, my sister was involved in a very serious car accident and suffered massive brain trauma, and I honestly barely remember moving things out of the house,as my sister was in a coma, on life support, and that became the focus of our lives..
 I rented a house not far away, and as the demolishing day was closer, I was overcome with worry, "What would happen to John?"

This being 1991 there was still no internet, and not much help from the library, asking anyone that seemed receptive was the plan.. I was able to find a friend who was willy to help, and seemed to know more than me, pretty quickly.  She was fairly certain, we should just go over, into the now empty and becoming overgrown house and try to speak to John and invite him to come with us.. I still had a key to the house, as they only planned to bulldoze the property in a month, they didn't change the locks.  As we walked in, we both had an overwhelming sense of fear and dread. It felt like opening the door to that scary closet to the attic. My room, where I assumed we would find John, was at the top of a fairly steep,  and winding staircase.  The moment we opened the door to that stairway, the feeling of darkness and very very negative, okay, terrifying energy was overwhelming.  I remember, looking at Becca and saying," I think he is real mad he got left behind", and we started up the stairs..
At the top of the stairs, there was a large landing and two bedrooms and a bathroom... The door to my room was directly in front of us and closed, the door to my sister's room was to the left and open... We stood in the middle of the landing and could see, the door to that attic room was open also and there was an old vacuum laying in the middle of the room... This was around a corner almost , we were leaning a bit to see in the room, without actually going in. Then there was a horrible moan, almost like growling wind, and it was suddenly REALLY cold, we looked at each other, and in a split second were running back down the stairs. About halfway down the stairs, that vacuum came flying past us, as if it had been thrown from the top of the stairs. It JUST missed my head and smashed with force on the door jam of the doorway at the bottom of the stairs.. We ran through the house and to her car and left a lot faster then we drove in.. I still do not know what happened to John, and if that was him,or if  the attic closet entity was something else and was"out of the closet".. I felt horrible and to this day, 27 years later, I wish I knew...



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