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Categories: home, lady, children, apartment, building
I'm pretty sure my neighborhood is built on an old farm town. When they were making spaces for new houses here they pulled out a whole bunch of cut rocks and 2 statues. Now the ghosts are back to haunt us.
Well me actually. I never hear my neighbors complain. Darn. At night and sometimes during the day you can see and hear lots of unexplained stuff. I can't wait till I get to the bottom of this.help!!!!.|
Submitted by Aghost |
Comment by Katie: Currently also in Macungie .. Right off of route 100 . Near the pub . Curious as to where you're talking about ?.
When I was about 13 years old my family moved into a farmhouse in Macungie, PA. It was a Peculiar house. Located on Indian creek road. It was constructed of stone except for the addition built in, my guess, the 70's.It had two staircases and held an eerie feeling. The house had creaky wooden floors that were certainly not level. Two of the bedrooms, my sister's and mine, were in the main part of the house and my parents room was in the addition section.My bedroom appeared to have been recently painted and was closest to the bathroom. My sister's was next to mine. The paint was chipping off of the plaster walls. This kind of creeped me out. Our rooms were connected by a door.We usually kept it open for a feeling of comfort that either of us were only a few feet away from each other. The first night we stayed in the house was creepy. I overlooked it as being a different place for me.I remember lying in my bed and feeling as if I weren't alone. I felt a presence. It was spooky. As time went on the spookiness seemed to become more and more obvious. In the summer I had opened two of my three bedroom windows.I placed chunks of wood in the windows to assure they would not slam shut. The windows were stuck open. Neither my father nor myself could pry the wood from the windows to shut them. They remained open all of the time.Rain or shine. I often placed towel on the sill to collect rain water, so my hardwood floor would not be damaged. One night I awoke to a loud bang. I was terrified. I do not believe anyone else heard it.As no one came to my room to find the cause of the noise. I was so terrified I froze right there in my bed. Eventually I fell back to sleep without investigating the sound. The next morning, one of the windows was shut, and cracked.The chunk of wood that was so firmly stuck lying nicely on the sill. A few weeks later this would happen again to the other window. Neither of the windows were opened again. The third window, the one I never opened, cracked spontaneously.I was sitting in my room reading one afternoon and all of a sudden it just broke. I walked over to investigate and had a feeling that I should just leave it alone. So, I did. Over the next three years each window in the home had a crack in it.Or a chunk of glass missing from it. One day after school I went to my room to retrieve something. On my way back to the living room, while descending the stairs, I felt my foot pulled right out from under me.I immediately lost my balance and slide down the steep stairs injuring my back. I know, I did not imagine this. I was truly terrified. The basement had a spooky feeling as well. I would often do my own laundry.This involved me having to be in the basement. After I would start the wash I would always run as fast as I could to get back upstairs. In the summer we would hang our laundry on the wash line out back.While hanging laundry, I would often have the feeling of being watched. In fact I felt watched regardless of where I was, in or around the house. While in the back yard however, if you would look up at my parents bedroom window, you would often see a black figure (behind my mother's sheer curtains) standing there, just watching me.I always looked away, uncomfortable, when I would turn back it would be gone. It did not seem to matter if I was alone, or if my entire family was home. My mother and my sister also witnessed this. The house had those pull-down shades in each window.The spring loaded shades would often fly up on their own. And every once in a while they would fall from the widows. We got rather used to this. My father blamed it on the wind, as almost all of the windows were broken.One night, some friends of the family were visiting. We were all in the kitchen. My dad's friend had to use the restroom. When he came back downstairs he began yelling at my sister and I. Claiming we had been running up and down the hall banging on the bathroom door and laughing.Everyone just stared at him. Then my father said, no one left the kitchen. We were all there the entire time. I watched all of the color drain from his face as he looked at his wife and announced he was ready to go home.I am certain this house is haunted. And I am certain the presence is that of an evil one. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind. You could be the only one home, but you certainly were not alone.And you knew it. You felt it. And you were scared. There are dozens and dozens of stories I could share about this house. But, I do not want to totally bore you so I will end it here. After moving, I have never felt the way I did while living in the house in Macungie.Every few years I find myself driving past the house and becoming instantly tense when I see it. .
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