Often in the course of conversation I would refer to the house as haunted. Little did I know, though, that the haunting of my home would soon turn from a curiosity to something much more sinister.

My story begins on the 1st of May 1909. I had just moved into the house, and I was having a hard time adjusting to the change in my surroundings. I was also having a hard time getting used to the knocking on the walls and floors at night. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about the house from the beginning, to be completely honest.

Soon after I got used to the knocking, there came the sinister spirit that would watch over me at night as I lay in bed. Though I could tell that the spirit wasn't going to harm me, I still was afraid of it. This is when I began to refer to my home as haunted.

More and more spirits seemed to be affecting me as I stay in the house. I truly was afraid of the consequences of these haunts, but I couldn't afford to do anything about them. So I just had to live with spirits.

Many years after the spirit came to watch me in bed, all spiritual activity stopped in the home, except for an unsettling feeling of being watched that seemed to pervade through me. Thoughts ran through my head. Something had happened in this house. Something horrible. I had to get out while I still could. It seemed that the spirits were affecting me all along. They had not left, but were trying to warn me of something.

I decided to see what I could do for the restless spirits when I could work up the courage. But that time would never come. I lived with a horrible burden on my back for 5 years, and that horrible feeling of being watched would stay with me through them all.

After eight years of living in that horrible place, I finally broke down. I left, and I sold the house to a man who was not at all superstitious, and didn't heed my warnings about the house being haunted. I just hope he is okay now…