Ghost Stories

A Not So Happy Valentines Day

Before I begin most, if not all, of the stories I have added into this book are from other writers and their experiences and I take no credit for them. This story will be different, because this story is mine and my experiences in a house I lived in previously.

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A Not So Happy Valentines Day

By: Wish_Dream_Love

Nearly 3-4 years ago, I moved in to a new house with my family when I was 16 years old. My mother called it a farm house,  yet it was far from one. Although it did have the quaint, homy feeling of one. There was tall grass that stretched far off into the distance at the edge of the backyard and in the corner of the yard sat an old looking shed/barn which seemed to sulk and sink into the ground. 

The house was old, probably built sometime in the 1900's, I don't remember the exact year. The windows were heavy, and looked like they had been painted with too many layers of white paint, the floor boards creaked with every step, there was no dishwasher in the kitchen, only one bathroom in the entire house, and a little mudroom in the back. We never used the front door to enter the house, we always went through the back, because the front stairs were crumbling from  age.

The house had two stories, two bedrooms on the first floor and two on the second. Me and my sister stayed on the second floor and my parents stayed in the 'master bedroom' on the first floor. There was a door that closed off the first and second floor, meaning every time me and my sister had to go up to our rooms we had to open a door to the stairs leading up. 

Now before we moved in, the landlord had to disclaim something before we were able to observe the property. There had been a suicide in the house, only months before, on February 14th. My parents weren't too concerned, although it was a death it would have been more concerning if it were a murder, and I wasn't startled at the bit. Surprisingly I was the quickest to say, "Let's go look at this house!" despite my past childhood trauma from watching too many paranormal activity movies and hiding under my blankets for months. According to the landlord, it was a single man who had lived in the house. So despite this news my family and I moved in a month later. 

This was the first old house that I had lived in and it took some time getting used to the creaking of the floor boards and the way that the house 'breathed'. It also took awhile to get used to the light switches, as one switch would be placed in the kitchen, yet it would turn on the living rooms main light across the hall way. The darkness of the house became an unlikely family member that I did not like. 

Throughout my time living in the house there was no significant paranormal activity. There was always a feeling of eeriness and being watched at night, so I never wanted to be left alone, but nothing had ever been slammed or was thrown around. But what I can remember distinctly was the kitchen. Nearly ever other day to once a week, I remember cabinets and sometimes drawers would be open in the kitchen, after me or my mom had closed them earlier that day or the night before, as well as the sound of running water. We were unable to debunk this as when we went to close the cabinets they would stay closed and the water faucet never leaked and was actually fairly new. We would close the cabinets and drawers and the next thing we new they were open the next morning. I never found it scary just kind of startling, knowing something might be here in the house with me. 

Turns out my friends dad was a police officer that had actually been on the sight after the suicide and according to him, the guy who committed suicide had shot himself in the kitchen. We moved out a year after moving in.