Steve Frech
Oh, man. I spent most of my formative years growing up in Ohio. We lived in the same house from the time I was in third grade until I graduated high school. When I was in junior high, we had a golden retriever named 'Abbey'. She was the sweetest dog in the world.
One New Year's Eve, I was sick and stayed home by myself. It was late and I was watching a movie while eating popcorn, 'accidently' dropping some on the floor for Abby, who was hanging out with me. All the lights were out except the television. Suddenly, I heard footsteps, like someone was walking upstairs. I played it off. Then, I heard them, again, and so did Abbey. She looked up at the ceiling.
I heard them a third time and thought, 'Okay. I know I'm not really hearing footsteps. Let's go check it out.' You know, like every idiot in every horror movie. Anyway, Abbey and I go to the foot of the stairs. The lights are off in the upstairs hallway, and Abbey, again, the sweetest dog in the world, starts growling. Her eyes are locked onto the darkness above. I hit the light switch, which turns on the lights in the upstairs hallway, and Abbey loses it, like there's something there I can't see. I had never seen her like that. Needless to say, I did not go up there. We went back to the living room to finish the movie and wait for my parents to get home. I never had another experience like that in the house, nor did I tell anyone.
However, years later my family moved to Atlanta. Literally, as we're pulling away from our house, my mom asks, 'Did anyone else think that house was haunted?'
It turns out all of us had an experience in the house that we never told anyone about. My mom heard voices. So did my sisters. Even my dad, who is the most skeptical out of all of us, admitted that he had been reading in bed, heard a noise, looked through the open door to the hallway, and thought he saw someone go down the stairs.
I don't think any of us have spoken about it, since.
One New Year's Eve, I was sick and stayed home by myself. It was late and I was watching a movie while eating popcorn, 'accidently' dropping some on the floor for Abby, who was hanging out with me. All the lights were out except the television. Suddenly, I heard footsteps, like someone was walking upstairs. I played it off. Then, I heard them, again, and so did Abbey. She looked up at the ceiling.
I heard them a third time and thought, 'Okay. I know I'm not really hearing footsteps. Let's go check it out.' You know, like every idiot in every horror movie. Anyway, Abbey and I go to the foot of the stairs. The lights are off in the upstairs hallway, and Abbey, again, the sweetest dog in the world, starts growling. Her eyes are locked onto the darkness above. I hit the light switch, which turns on the lights in the upstairs hallway, and Abbey loses it, like there's something there I can't see. I had never seen her like that. Needless to say, I did not go up there. We went back to the living room to finish the movie and wait for my parents to get home. I never had another experience like that in the house, nor did I tell anyone.
However, years later my family moved to Atlanta. Literally, as we're pulling away from our house, my mom asks, 'Did anyone else think that house was haunted?'
It turns out all of us had an experience in the house that we never told anyone about. My mom heard voices. So did my sisters. Even my dad, who is the most skeptical out of all of us, admitted that he had been reading in bed, heard a noise, looked through the open door to the hallway, and thought he saw someone go down the stairs.
I don't think any of us have spoken about it, since.
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