I have a story to tell. I should have told it a month ago in preparation for Halloween but alas, I didn't think to write about it until tonight. So, if you are ready for something spooooky then sit back and enjoy.
When I was a little girl living in Northern California my parents chose a house for our family to live in that was, at first inspection, perfect for us. It was a traditional English Tudor style, 2 story house with 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a living room, dining room, large pantry, and a large kitchen/eating area. There were large picturesque windows in every room that looked out over the vast undeveloped rolling hills that were right out our back door. The house was surrounded by large oak trees and a quaint brick path that led from the street up to our doorway.
Our family was happy there. One bedroom for the girls, one bedroom for the boys, an office for dad, and a large master bedroom for our parents. Everything was perfect except for one major factor. There weren't any blinds on the windows.
I'm not sure why my parents never installed blinds on the windows; it could have been because we lived in a more remote setting with a few neighbors half a block away and to the north west of our house and then neighbors to the west of us. That was it. So much empty rolling land to run in, play in, explore, and spend every minute in getting dirty and stinky.
As my sisters and I began to age we started babysitting our younger siblings while my mom ran errands in town. Things went relatively smoothly (other than the pulling hair incidents which the girl's can not live down to this day....another story, for another blog post). However, once darkness started to settle in things would change a little. The phone would ring. Jessica, my younger sister, would pick it up and nobody would speak. The phone would ring again so I, being the older sister, would answer the phone the next time. Again, nothing. Sometimes this went on for great lengths of time. Sometimes somebody would talk, sometimes they wouldn't talk. More often than not, though, there were calls.
These phone calls started to really unnerve my sister and I. Here we were in a big house all alone with a crank caller, no blinds on our windows, and 3 little kids running amuck. As time went by I started having creepy feelings that we were being watched. The windows began to give me a sense of panic and I would avoid them as much as possible. I would stand obscured by the walls in the hallway and build up the courage to run past the windows to the safety of the next stretch of hallway. The hallways and the windowless bathroom became my sanctuary.
Then, one morning my sister Jessica and I, who slept in the bedroom at the front of the house, were getting dressed for school. I glanced up at the window and there stood a strange man who I had never seen before. He was a caucasian man with brown eyes and a bushy brown beard and mustache that covered his face. His beady eyes locked eyes with mine for a split second before he bolted for the street and Jessica and I started screaming. The cops were called, the neighborhood was canvassed, but nobody ever found out who the man in the window was.
About a year later my sisters and I were sleeping. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning before the light broke across the sky my sister awoke from a dream screaming. My parents rushed downstairs and into our room to give her solace from the panic that she was experiencing. They questioned her about her fears and she shared with them that she was sure she had seen a man outside that resembled an unsavory man that we knew. My parents searched the house and our premises and once again found nothing.
Did we have a peeping tom? Was our house really unsafe? At this point only God knows. Unfortunately though, the damage had been done. To this day I live in fear of the dark. I jump at every noise and when my husband is gone, my anxiety gets the best of my last ditch efforts to be strong.
Mark was gone for 13 days recently and I had to face my fears. Luckily we have a dog who I purposely kept outside, instead of in her kennel, so that I could have a little peace of mind concerning the safety of my home. I got very little sleep but, the good news is, I made it. Everyday I got just a morsel stronger and, luckily, I have a great little cell phone that fits nicely underneath my pillow. Maybe just maybe I can conquer my fears, even if I am an old lady by the time it doesn't bother me anymore.
When I was a little girl living in Northern California my parents chose a house for our family to live in that was, at first inspection, perfect for us. It was a traditional English Tudor style, 2 story house with 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a living room, dining room, large pantry, and a large kitchen/eating area. There were large picturesque windows in every room that looked out over the vast undeveloped rolling hills that were right out our back door. The house was surrounded by large oak trees and a quaint brick path that led from the street up to our doorway.
Our family was happy there. One bedroom for the girls, one bedroom for the boys, an office for dad, and a large master bedroom for our parents. Everything was perfect except for one major factor. There weren't any blinds on the windows.
I'm not sure why my parents never installed blinds on the windows; it could have been because we lived in a more remote setting with a few neighbors half a block away and to the north west of our house and then neighbors to the west of us. That was it. So much empty rolling land to run in, play in, explore, and spend every minute in getting dirty and stinky.
As my sisters and I began to age we started babysitting our younger siblings while my mom ran errands in town. Things went relatively smoothly (other than the pulling hair incidents which the girl's can not live down to this day....another story, for another blog post). However, once darkness started to settle in things would change a little. The phone would ring. Jessica, my younger sister, would pick it up and nobody would speak. The phone would ring again so I, being the older sister, would answer the phone the next time. Again, nothing. Sometimes this went on for great lengths of time. Sometimes somebody would talk, sometimes they wouldn't talk. More often than not, though, there were calls.
These phone calls started to really unnerve my sister and I. Here we were in a big house all alone with a crank caller, no blinds on our windows, and 3 little kids running amuck. As time went by I started having creepy feelings that we were being watched. The windows began to give me a sense of panic and I would avoid them as much as possible. I would stand obscured by the walls in the hallway and build up the courage to run past the windows to the safety of the next stretch of hallway. The hallways and the windowless bathroom became my sanctuary.
Then, one morning my sister Jessica and I, who slept in the bedroom at the front of the house, were getting dressed for school. I glanced up at the window and there stood a strange man who I had never seen before. He was a caucasian man with brown eyes and a bushy brown beard and mustache that covered his face. His beady eyes locked eyes with mine for a split second before he bolted for the street and Jessica and I started screaming. The cops were called, the neighborhood was canvassed, but nobody ever found out who the man in the window was.
About a year later my sisters and I were sleeping. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning before the light broke across the sky my sister awoke from a dream screaming. My parents rushed downstairs and into our room to give her solace from the panic that she was experiencing. They questioned her about her fears and she shared with them that she was sure she had seen a man outside that resembled an unsavory man that we knew. My parents searched the house and our premises and once again found nothing.
Did we have a peeping tom? Was our house really unsafe? At this point only God knows. Unfortunately though, the damage had been done. To this day I live in fear of the dark. I jump at every noise and when my husband is gone, my anxiety gets the best of my last ditch efforts to be strong.
Mark was gone for 13 days recently and I had to face my fears. Luckily we have a dog who I purposely kept outside, instead of in her kennel, so that I could have a little peace of mind concerning the safety of my home. I got very little sleep but, the good news is, I made it. Everyday I got just a morsel stronger and, luckily, I have a great little cell phone that fits nicely underneath my pillow. Maybe just maybe I can conquer my fears, even if I am an old lady by the time it doesn't bother me anymore.
Comments
Believe me, I understand where you are coming from. I couldn't live in a house - no matter how remote it was - without some sort of window covering. Even a sheet would be better than nothing - and in fact, sheets & towels have covered windows in more than one home we've lived in until we were able to get real blinds. :)
Just kidding.
Very creepy story. I'm sorry you had to go through that!
...Kelli...