It gets weird.
Who was I to think that when we moved, the strange occurrences and freaky noises would cease? I should have known that it likely isn’t the homes I move into that are haunted, but that it is me that attracts them to wherever I am.
It started yesterday morning, and this thought actually JUST hit me as I was sitting down to type out this blog, because I hadn’t put this piece into the puzzle yet, hadn’t even though of it as related until just now.
Thomas had just left for work, the boys and I were in the middle of breakfast when I heard what distinctly sounded like someone rooting around in our garage. And it wasn’t just me that heard it, BOTH of the boys perked up and pointed toward the garage.
Thomas had already forgot something and had to come back in the house once, I thought maybe he hadn’t left, i’d missed it, or maybe he’d come back in again.
The first thing I did was to check outside for his car… and I was shocked to see that it wasn’t there. The sounds continued, and my heart was in my throat. I called Thomas almost immediately after seeing that his car was absent from the driveway to ask and see if maybe just MAYBE he was in the garage. He said no. He sounded as if he thought I was insane, but it wasn’t just me who thought someone was in there, and the boys don’t usually perk up at random clicks and pops coming from around the house (and there are a lot, especially when you’re getting used to a new place). The noises continued for a little while, but I was honestly too scared to go out into the garage to see if anyone was actually there, and by the time I considered calling the police, they stopped.
That night, last night, was the battle with Parker to get him to go to bed. Once we finally got him down, we listened intently all night for him to get up again, but he never did… that’s not to say we didn’t think he was getting up. Constantly we both heard noises that sounded like movement coming from the upper level. I couldn’t make out the noises, but Thomas swore they were the sound of this baby toy we have that is a ball inside of a ball that jingles when it rolls. I packed it away a long time ago, but around 11pm, I realized that where I could have packed it was in a bin in Parker’s closet of old toys. But how would that be making sounds? Every time we ventured up the stairs to see if either of the boys were awake, neither were. And Thomas swore time and time again that he was hearing the jingling of that ball rolling around upstairs.
In the middle of our conversation of where that jingling ball could be, I remembered something.
The first time Parker refused to sleep in his new room, he repeatedly pointed toward his closet. Every time he insisted on getting up, he would point at the closet and scream. At the time, I just took it as him pointing at anywhere outside of his bed so he wouldn’t have to be in it anymore… but with the jingling ball possibly being in his closet… the thought that maybe there is something IN his closet scaring him out of sleeping in his room became much more prevalent in my mind.
Needless to say, when I went up to bed last night, I was pretty damn freaked out.
Today, both Thomas and I searched through Parker’s room, including the bin in his closet… no jingling ball. Where was the sound coming from? What was it? Neither of us know.
Even during nap time I was hearing things that sounded like footsteps coming from upstairs, only to find that Holden was fast asleep, and Parker was passed out on the couch downstairs… what could it be? The unfamiliar sounds of a new house, or something else?
A weird day all around, to be honest. Around 5pm, I couldn’t find anything on TV to watch as I was icing my back, so I turned on Unsolved Mysteries… and a case came on that struck a chord with me.
A case from Northern VA in 1996 of a woman who got basically pushed off the road by a man who insisted there was something wrong with her car, only to disappear and later be found dead. Other women had reported the same man doing the same thing to them, but none of them were harmed.
Instantly I was reminded of something that happened to me back in 99/00. I was driving to Northern VA with a friend when a man attempted to basically push us off of the road. He stared, he tailgated, he flashed his lights. At the age of 17, I was horrified. Once we thought we’d lost him, we continued our drive, only to 10 minutes later see someone speed onto the interstate from a rest stop… it was him, and he continued to do the same thing he had done 10 miles back, only this time he had a video camera pointed at us. It was an experience that haunted me for a long time, but I had forgotten until seeing this story today, and the composite drawing of the man they thought had committed the crime… it looked just like the man I remembered who had followed us for 30 minutes.
Could it have been the same man? Could all the sounds and weird happenings have been a sign? I emailed in a tip to the crime line, something I have never been compelled to do… perhaps I could help to solve a crime.
I really REALLY don’t want to be living in another haunted house. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime! It would be awesome to help put a murderer behind bars, but only time will tell on that one.
Person on tv: Age is just a number! 10yo: Yeah, a number that pulls you closer to death.
Party animal over here pic.twitter.com/OVpKPuu4Yc
Proving to my kids that they ARE Friends goo.gl/fb/QbSSNp
Writing my next book Me: My period inspired a whole new chapter! Husband: Your lack of period inspired a whole book... Me: pic.twitter.com/fpNHwnYeAF
The card my kid made me at school. I truly don't know why I expected anything different 😂😂 pic.twitter.com/T7nai0ycqS
Valentine's Day before 4pm and I'm already putting on pajamas because my uterus is bloated to the size of a Buick and erupting like Mount Vesuvius so I guess you could say I'm feeling PRETTY romantic.