A presence

Our house has a strange layout: where the ground floor/basement has a kitchen (with the old fire opening still there) and what used to be the old pantry .  Then there is another door which opens into the coal bunker next to it.  It’s still laid out the way it would’ve been originally. 

It might just be because the rooms as they are, are a bit sparse and they still have the original features in there.  But I can’t help but picture people doing their daily grind as they would’ve been doing when the house was originally built – whether that be watching something cook over the fire or shovelling coal from the bunker.  It’s there, they’ll have touched the same door handles and opened and closed the same windows as I’m touching well over 100 odd years later.  And that freaks me out a little.

I don’t actually feel scared, but I do feel a bit…out of place when I’m down there, more so at night.  It’s like I shouldn’t be there. 

I’ve quite possibly just put all this into my head over the years of living here, but I’m fascinated by how people used to live in ye olden days.  Spending so much time alone in a big old creaking house, it’s easy for my imagination to run wild too. 

Nights of insomnia are brilliant for that – I end up having more lights than Vegas switched on (I was once convinced I heard someone breathing behind me on the stairs.  Only to later realise it was my own breath as I legged it up the steps).  It’s got to the point where I’m planning to get a pint of water from the kitchen to take to bed, well before I’m actually going – just because I’d rather not go down there again a few hours later at midnight or whenever. 

Yes, I know.  Massive scaredy cat.

I’m very sceptical about ghosts and stuff, but a few other people have mentioned it as soon as they’ve gone down there – that they wouldn’t like to be down there at night alone.  They might just be massive paranoid freaks like me though!

One day though, I’m fully expecting an imaginary man to run out of the coal bunker and hit me over the head with an imaginary shovel. 

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16 thoughts on “A presence

  1. Like you, I am sceptical. But that said, there have been times when I’ve felt the hairs prick up on my arms or felt that there’s something invisible with me, and I live in a big old Victorian house so I bet a fair few people have died in there! The rats sometimes just stop playing about and sit and stare at something in the distance. It can really eek me out, especially since my Dad died.

    I was talking to my other half about how I talk to Dad sometimes if I am in the car or at home alone. Of course he never answers. I said I’d be totally freaked out if my Dad ever somehow ‘spoke back’ to me or appeared as a ghost. I hope if he is about he was listening to that!

  2. “But I can’t help but picture people doing their daily grind as they would’ve been doing when the house was originally built”

    You make it sound like you live in a house of ill repute….. Sod the imaginary spade; I would be more worried about some imaginary man sticking his Imaginary todger where the sun don’t shine…

  3. Blue Soup
    That’s what I keep thinking, there must’ve been a fair few people who have lived/died in this house. My brother showed me around an old pub a few years ago, as I was about to go upstairs I took one look and refused – for some reason I didn’t fancy going and looking upstairs. It was only 30 mins later he said he thought there was a ghost up there and he got an eerie feeling something bad had happened. Without telling anybody else about it, other people later said the same thing to him too. Spoookkkyyy!

    nuttycow
    haha you’ll be getting whacked with a brush pole later 😀

    BlackLOG
    Maybe it was a house of ill repute? It looks ideal for a dominatrix/gimp layer…if these walls could talk!

    I just think its a bit mad: there would’ve been someone in there almost constantly years ago, making food and doing whatever. It would’ve been the main room in the house.

    Maybe I’ve just got an over active imagination – it’s not imaginative enough to think up imaginary togdering in places we don’t speak of…we’ll have none of that here!

  4. I used to live in an apartment in what was a former hospital. The place was haunted. I was never scared though. Some of us are brave!

  5. S. Le
    Former hospitals give the creeps, no way could I live there…I’m not brave!

    Urban Exploration – where people go into old disused buildings, like on this website here: http://www.28dayslater.co.uk/forums/forumdisplay.php?f=4 – gives me the proper creeps. Fascinating, but spooky.

    Brennig
    I almost want something odd to happen so I know it’s real, but at the same time I think I’d actually poo my pants if anything like that ever did happen to me.

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