You wanna hear a ghost story?
Not the kind you were told as a little kid. But rather, the kind that are real. Life changing. Terrifying. (Wait, what? “Ghosts aren’t real,” you say? Then this posts isn’t for you.)
I’m going to try to write these short stories in parts. This is part one. These will be little snippets of my life and paranormal experiences that I’ve went through. I’m going to add pictures to this blog post, but please understand that these pictures are not mine. I will credit them where credit is due. I wish I still had pictures of this home but it has been more than ten years ago. And back then, I didn’t have a cell phone to take pictures with. Most of the pictures I’m going to show are from real estate websites because the house was for sale a few years back.
The first group home I ever lived in was haunted. Now that I’m an adult, I look back and wonder if maybe the hauntings were following me instead of already being at every place I went to. Because I always felt like someone was following me. Everywhere. I. Went.
But anyway, this one specific group home I was at had seven bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, and was built in 1921. The basement was where the laundry was done. It was dark and creepy. And my fear was that someone would be standing behind the stairs as I walked down, then grabbed my foot from between the steps. The upstairs was carpeted, so it wasn’t as creepy as hearing the hardwood floor creak under your steps.
But there’s still something unsettling about an abandoned child being dropped off at a haunted house of any kind, regardless of whether it was a group home or not.
So if you’ll look at the picture below, my bedroom was the window to the far right (the white part of the house) on the top floor. That was the very end of the hallway of bedrooms. And to get to my room, I had to pass a fire escape hall that led to the back of the house.
That fire escape hall is where the woman in white was.
As soon as you walk in the front door, you’ll see these stairs. I stood at the foot of these stairs when I was 12 years old, the day my mother took me there and left me. I had an eerie feeling about it already. And something made me not want to climb the stairs, but I knew I had to. Because this would be my new home for the next two years.
When I traveled up these stairs, there was a bedroom at the very top on the immediate left. Then I turned right, and there was a hallway with more bedrooms on both sides of the hall. The woman in white always stood at the end of the hall, where you would turn left down a smaller hall (this was the fire escape with a door at the end of it). This was very close to my bedroom. She stood there in front of the fire escape door, or rather hovered because her feet didn’t touch the ground, and watch us walk down the hall. She wore a long, white gown. If I remember correctly, I think she had medium length hair. And she was young, maybe in her teens or twenties.
The first time I saw her, I ran straight to my room and I was afraid to come out. I was already in a group home with my mother telling everyone I was crazy. So what I didn’t want to do was tell the staff, because they would think I was delusional.
It became a daily fear of mine because I knew I would have to pass that fire escape hall and see her out of my periphal vision just to come out of my bedroom in the morning and go back to my bedroom at night. She was always there.
Downstairs had a different feeling from upstairs. I could breathe downstairs where the living room, dining room, kitchen, and office were. But when I was upstairs, I felt like I was suffocating.
I finally told the staff about the ghost I was seeing one day. They told me that I wasn’t the first person to mention seeing that woman down the fire escape hall. I’ve always wondered what happened to her or if she died in the house and stayed. I couldn’t find any concrete proof about her or even the previous owners of the house. Even now as an adult, I’ve yet to find any deaths that occured in the house.
Looking back, maybe the woman in white was just there to watch over the group home kids. She never came toward me. She never tried to touch me. She was just there… watching me as I walked past her hallway.
I’ve moved a lot since then. And she never followed me. I wonder if she’s still there today, in 2019, like she was back in 2003.