As a kid I was always curious about what was out there, and I can't tag this memory to an obsession with a movie or story or something like that. It just happened. The first experience I can remember happened while I was living in my second house. I moved there when I started second grade and went to high school in the same house, so I consider it the house in which I grew up.
I was convinced the house was haunted from a young age. Something about it never felt right to me. Admittedly, to this day, I still think something is there (though I have no proof). It was one of those places where you run up the stairs from the basement because it felt like something was following you. The house is in a dark section of the street so it always looks ominous to passers-by. There were three distinct events in that house that I remember vividly that were perhaps the catalyst to my obsession today.
Dragging me to curiosity
I was about 12 years old when I was literally scared for the first time. I was lying in my bed, unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep, as was usual for me in that house. My mom, brother, and grandma were all asleep in their own rooms as I started to hear some movement in the attic above me. A thud. Something dragging? Another thud, another drag. This time it's metallic.
That was it, I was convinced I was hearing someone walking in the attic above me, dragging something like chains behind him. It walked from right above my head to the other side of the room and stopped. I laid there in fear for a good hour before I was able to stand up and run to my mom's room. To this day she thinks I was dreaming, and I have no proof to say otherwise, save for one coincidence.
The walk-in closet in my room had an access panel to the attic. My friends and I would always talk about building a fort up there at some point. It never happened. But the next morning, I went into my closet to get dressed for school, and when I looked up, the panel was lifted off the hole, slightly ajar resting about 8 inches above my closet on the top of the access shaft.
I still remember the feeling of my mouth dropping to the floor. I had never seen that panel moved in the years that I had lived in the house. To me, that was proof. Obviously, I never lost the feeling and I was instantly curious, if not terrified.
A friendly reminder
Before I turned 15, my grandma passed away. She was one of those grandmas who was there when I woke up and when I got home from school, every day. She took great care of our family, it was a tragic loss for all of us.
She had a routine that we all remember. She had a couple nighties she wore at night, but she mostly wore one that was pink. She would watch TV in her recliner in the evening while drinking tea. If she ran out, she would have to walk across the kitchen table area and toward the stove, past the sliding-glass door.
After she passed, I was upstairs in my room doing homework when I got thirsty and decided to go downstairs to get some soda. As I turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, I saw my brother sitting at the kitchen table doing homework as well. He was in front of the sliding-glass door, and instead of looking at me as I came downstairs, his head shot to the glass. I was looking there too when I saw the reflection of my grandma, in her pink nightie, walking to the kitchen with teacup in hand and a smile. Frozen at the bottom the stairs, my brother quickly snapped his head toward me and asked "Did you see that?!"
That was the first validated experience I had in my life. At the time I was calmed, knowing that my grandma was still around, yet I was worried that she may be trapped. I was too young to know about residual hauntings, which I now believe this to be. But I remember thinking that if this did not prove there is something else out there, I was going to find something else.
A tingling fear
Our basement was creepy, no doubt. It had low ceilings, few lights and a lot of small rooms. To me, it always felt like there was someone else down there, no matter how many people were with me. The stairs were a big place for this. But I was a fat kid and my video games were down there, so I found myself in what I call "the pit" quite often.
I lost weight one year though diet and exercise, but mostly though an obsession with Dance Dance Revolution. I would burn though calories like I used to burn though pizza rolls. One night I was having a particularly intense session when I sat on the couch to take a break.
Not two seconds later, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. It had happened to me before many times, so I wasn't worried. But this time it didn't go away - it got stronger. I felt my hair actually move, like someone was running their fingers along the back of my hair - something my grandma did often.
I didn't like it. It's weird to say to this day, that something that used to comfort me now scared me, but it's true. I ran from the basement like I never had before and never whet back down there until two years later when we moved and I had to pack some boxes.
These experiences are what have led me to the paranormal and I intend to find the answers quickly. I know a lot of people say they are researching paranormal and say they are completely objective are mistaking - if you are studying the paranormal you have a reason to and you know it's there. That's the stance I am taking. I know nearly everything can be explained, and I have very few stories that I believe contain the paranormal, but I refuse to study something I don't believe in.
