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When we first moved to Pennsylvania we lived on my in-laws farm in their old house. Because our bedroom was unfinished, we spent a lot of nights sleeping in the living room on the couches. The couch I slept on faced the hallway, and a doorless closet there.
Now my spouse had grown up in part in this house, and had always told stories about it. Mainly about how their older brother and younger brother used to claim to "see things" on the farm. Which, okay, cool, middle of nowhere in pitch black surrounded by woods with no phone.
We lived in a horror movie, so I was ready to accept that if the Amish Axeman ever rode his bloodstained buggy to our door and decided to take us out, we were fucked.
However, my spouse had neglected to mention that a couple hundred years before the residents of the prior house on the property had been viciously slaughtered.
A woman and two small children.

And not like "Ha ha legend!" slaughtered but rather "Oh yeah, they found their bodies on the property when putting in the utility lines" slaughtered.

So SLAUGHTERED slaughtered.
I had not been made aware of this fact, sufficiently. And especially had not been made aware of the fact that there were supposedly ghosts in the house itself from the, you know, SLAUGHTER.
I was MADE aware of this fact one night when it was just QM and I in the house, as the kids were all staying "down at grandmas" for the night, and we watched a horror movie because no cable, no phone, no antennae TV so all we had were our massive numbers of bloody horror DVDs.
And QM decided this evening, which was quite stormy, was the PERFECT time to tell me about how the "things" their brothers had seen were little girls that came into their childhood bedrooms at night, but were generally very nice and just locked doors and things.
BUT that the "woman" who was...you know...FUCKING SLAUGHTERED...was also seen by one person in the family:

QM's father.

Who had seen her in the darkened hall closet without a door, appearing from the darkness to point and wordlessly scream.
Like this:
Before gliding, still pointing and screaming, back into the darkness of the closet.

And that he always saw her while sitting on the couch in the living.

You know, the same couch I was sleeping on while we were unpacking shit throughout the house.
And, since QM's family had BUILT this house, they were the only ones who knew about the SILENTLY SCREAMING HALL CLOSET GHOST that, I was told, DID THIS SHIT TO THE MALE HEAD OF EVERY GENERATION THAT HAD LIVED THERE.
SO, YOU KNOW, JUST LIKE I WAS.
And then, right after that, QM said "Well, good night" and turned off the TV, cuddling up on the loveseat that DEFINITELY DID NOT FUCKING FACE THE SCREAMING ANGRY GHOST CLOSET while leaving me to sleep on the couch that STARED DIRECTLY INTO IT.
I did NOT sleep well that night.

Or a week later when a storm blew through and flooded the ONLY ROAD between this house and the main house where QM's parents lived WHILE QM AND THE KIDS WERE THERE, preventing them from coming home for a couple days until the floodwaters dropped.
AFTER knocking out ALL THE POWER TO THE HOUSE.

And leaving me with one tiny generator that really didn't let me keep lights on at night.

Alone.

In the dark house.

Where I had to sleep facing the CLOSET OF DOOM with a ghost that, from all evidence, WOULD NOT APPROVE OF ME.
And, again, our bedroom was NOT capable of being slept in at that point because it...uh...DIDN'T HAVE A FLOOR.

Not "it didn't have a carpet" or "it only had a subfloor."

IT. DIDN'T. HAVE. A. FLOOR.
But you know what WAS set up?

The kids' room.
You know, the one that had the nice child ghosts that were pleasant and at most would lock the doors.
Not wake up you like this:
But the kids rooms didn't have beds, and the carpet had...issues...relating to a poorly working coal furnace backing up through the vents.

So I couldn't sleep in there on the floor.
And, dammit, I was a fully grown man! I wasn't scared of those silly stories and legends! That stuff was for kids!

I would sleep on the couch like a man!

But maybe I'd light a candle. You know. Just for some light.
So I did. I lit a scented candle in a jar (safety first) and put it on the coffee table, and laid down on the couch, and sat in the dark readying myself for bed.
But did you know, in a completely pitch black house with no outside lights, candles tend to...uh...flicker and cast shadows?

Like, in a spooky way?

Like "Was that a face I saw in that dimly lit closet in the hall, or just a shadow?" sort of way?
So THAT, my friends, is how my giant ass ended up discovering that, yes, I can fit into a Sesame Street toddler bed.
And, when we realized the repairs that place needed were a little too much for us, we rented a place in town and out of the country to move into. A nice little half-double with a shared wall!
...a shared wall with the abandoned half-double next door...

...that had been abandoned for quite sometime...

...that our headboard was up against.
...and through which, late at night, when everyone in the house was asleep...

...I could hear someone in the abandoned house next door whispering
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