2016 Scary Story Contest – Entry #3, Markie Dale

House of Tortured Souls Presents the
2016 Scary Story

Entry #3: Home Sweet Home
Category: Non-fiction

By Markie Dale

It was 1967 when we moved into our newly built home in Birmingham, Alabama. Our first few weeks were normal getting used to the new abode but things started turning strange. Windows would open in the night in the front room, it was winter and it made the entire house frigid. My dad just thought it was the tight springs on the new windows, or at least that was what he told us young kids. I was only 7 at the time but felt there was more going on in the house than tight springs. This would occur every night for weeks and he decided to battle the cold by taking off the seat cushions from the sofa across the room and put them against the window to help keep some of the cold air out. I woke early the next morning with my dad and saw with him that not only were the windows open again, but the cushions were put back on the sofa. This was the first time he was really scared. This only happened a few more times until other events happened.

Things settled down, or at least in my knowledge, for a few years. Fast forward to when I am 13, and a friend of my parents is over while they are upstairs playing cards. We are in a playroom area and while she is looking at me, a horse statue of mine starts moving across the room behind her. She asks what is wrong and I point. She turns and sees it and screams. It drops to the floor and breaks. Parents meet us half way after hearing the scream and us running. We could not explain what had happened and they would not have believed us anyway.

Next summer I was alone at home. I went downstairs to get whatever and came back up the stairs and the door was locked. Crap! I went around the house to see if any other doors were unlocked, but no. I went next door and borrowed our key from the neighbor and unlocked the front door. I returned the key and went back home, all of this in full eyesight from one house to the next, and when I tried the door again, it was locked once more! Again I went next door to get the key, and this time my neighbor called the police. They went through the house looking for someone, but they found no one. As the officer left, he jokingly showed me that the door was unlocked and pulled it shut. I talked to the neighbor more before she left, but I should have made her stay with the key BECAUSE THE DOOR WAS LOCKED AGAIN!

Fast forward again. Now I am 24 years old and just married. Our new home will be completed in 2 weeks, so my wife and I live with my parents. My mom works from 8am to noon, and I work from 7am to 4pm. Many years later I discovered that my wife was so scared of the house that she would leave and not return until my mom got home. I never told her of the stories; she felt it.

The only explanation I have for these events is that the grave of a farm worker found while building a road behind our house in 1966. Work had to stop as they relocated the body from its unmarked and sunken burial site on what had been a farm. Many things happened between the events recounted here, but the spirit was just having fun and I accepted it. The more it did and the more I laughed, the more it did for a while.

Kind of some freaky times as a child, but it got better as I grew to accept it.

Posted by Alan Smithee

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