After my landlord stole my denim bra, I was house hunting again. I found a beautiful apartment on the ground floor of a small building that had been converted into a number of small, one bedroom apartments. It was perfect, but people warned me against moving in, because a girl had been murdered in that house. They said it was haunted.
I didn’t really believe them, because:
A. I didn’t want to, and
B. I didn’t want to
(Seriously, ghosts and stuff belong only in the DeadMau5 universe.)
Soon after I moved in, I started feeling like something about the house was wrong. I sought solace in wine and feverish lovemaking with Mister at first, but then the noises became too much and I had to start paying attention to them.
Mister suggested I keep a diary of all paranormal activity – though in my case there were only noises that seemed to come from within the walls. I did. Continue reading of ghosts and stuff
Ummm.. so where were we?
I think I already told you that I used to live in a haunted house where a woman my age had been murdered. At first I didn’t believe it, but then spooky shit happened, and I asked Mister, whom I was “just friends” with to spend the night at my place. You know how these things go. We got drunk and fell in love.
Anyway. We had been going out two days when he came home again, and found me really upset.
I had already been sleeping in the living room with the lights on because I was afraid of the ghost and the noises she was making. To add to my troubles, a bunch of guys on the street had found out that I lived alone and had started throwing pebbles at my window. Sometimes, when the curtains weren’t drawn, they would be glued to my window. Their catcalls and whistles drowned out the ghost’s noises. Continue reading of invisible roommates
[Right before this happened, this happened.]
Moving into a new house was as exhausting as it was exciting. There was all the packing, loading, unloading and unpacking to do. Four times in one day, by the way, without any help whatsoever. The mister and I were
in denial just friends back then, and I refused to let him help me. I saw this as an opportunity to pull my own weight, even if it meant giving away over a third of the forty two pairs of shoes I owned. I would’ve had to give away the clothes and bags too, had the new house been any farther away.
As soon as I entered the house Continue reading of old doors and new