Let me say this first and foremost, I believe in ghosts. There is something out in this world that we cannot see. Suffice it to say that in my twenty-six years of life I have had experiences with the paranormal.
To be clear; I do not use taroh cards, quiji boards, or any other means to manifest a spirit. Neither am I like the Cowardly Lion in repeating the fact over and over again.
The title of this post has nothing to do with the recent movie made by the same name. If you have watched the movie Poltergeist then you will remember the old man that comes to the door and says, “let me in!” Creepy. With that being said, I will tell you of one of my many encounters.
A couple of years ago my wife (then fiance) and I lived with my sister and her man (now husband) in a one story house that must have been built in the ’50s, or maybe older. It had a basement, so therefore, in spots the floor was creeky. I swear if you stood in one spot of the dining room and bounced just right, you could bounce the music to jingle bells.
Any number of times my wife and my sister had said that while at night when I was at work they could hear the sound of heavy footsteps on the floor. I never heard them, but this one night I certainly did.
My sister’s basement door was positioned in the back right-hand corner of the kitchen. As with a lot of basement doors, this never latched. So they had to use a more primitive method: a hook and I-bolt.
The steps were cheaply made and they were narrow and steep. Just as a word of caution it was never good to walk down there with an armful of laundry and no vision of the way in front of you.
You went down about ten steps, came to a small landing, turn right, down four more steps and you were on the basement floor. Anyone of average or above average height would have to duck or they would suffer the consequence of getting a knot on their head. Let’s just say I was victim several times.
The windows in the basement were small, too small for anyone to sqeeze through.
One night my wife and I were laying in bed, talking ouselves to sleep as all lovers do, and we were closing our eyes when we heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
I remeber this like it was yesterday.
Do you remember those old blinds when they were down all you had to do was give them a little tug and they would snap back up. Well, that was us.
Now the landing had its own sound when you stepped on it. Maybe it was more structurally supported, but it had a dull like thud to it.
Three steps, thud, and one-by-one whatever it was made its way up to the door. My wife asked me, “what was that?” I don’t know. “Well, go look.” Like an ominous feeling of fear surounded me. I was in Friday the 13th or Halloween. The guy always gets it first.
So with great hesitation and agaianst my better wishes, I went to investigate. My sister and her man were in bed. And there I stood in the hall out of my comfort zone. At least in bed I could lay there when something scary manifested before my eyes and cover up with the blanket.
I stood frozen, staring at the door thinking ‘I am never going down there again.’ While now, looking back, I can imagine that whatever stood behind that door was whispering ever so quietly, “Let Me In!”