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three-year-old screaming in horror and pointing to the top of the staircase. I asked her what was wrong. She frantically stated that there was an ''old scary man'' at the top of the stairs. She said that he scared her, and she wanted him to leave. I looked but did not see anything. Soon after I kindly but firmly asked him to leave. I haven't had any issues since this, and I'm hoping things stay quiet. On a side note, this home has an inviting warm feeling
Submitted by Doug
Categories: attic, bathroom, footsteps, children, home
My ex and I lived on Foster Street. Little did I know how close to the cemetery we were because I may have reconsidered moving there. It was a spacious two-bedroom apartment with a window overlooking the marina, but something about that room creeped me out. I never liked being in there alone. My newborn daughter hated being in there as well. It never got any sunlight because of where the wall was facing. The sun did not hit it. I always had to close the closet door when I was in there which was a small walk-in closet. I did not like it open.
Twice I saw things. One time I was walking to my daughter's room. As I walked past my room, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that was white, bright, and tall as a human. It was rushing straight to my closet door. I froze where I was and had to yell for my ex to come over. I was scared to death. Another time I was in my daughter's room, turned around, and saw what I thought looked like a teenager guy. He was probably between fifteen or sixteen. He dressed like he was from the 1990s. He disappeared. Another time I was sitting on the couch in my living room, and where I was I could see down the hall to my child's bedroom. There she was, standing in her crib, talking and reaching out to someone who was not there, as if they were going to pick her up.
I hated living there. It was an inconvenience with the steep hill, and there was just something about it that I could not shake. I never liked being home alone with my kid; we always left to make sure we were not. In all honesty, the crack heads downstairs were probably the scariest thing. We only lived there for about a year and a half. Some people feel attached to homes where they first bring their babies home. I sure was not attached. Definitely a few scary experiences.
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