Haunted houses aren't new to me. I used to point 'bad' houses out to my mom on walks and drives together. 3 year-old-me pointing and saying 'That's a bad house'. But I didn't live in them.
I have walked away from potential houses that I considered to have 'bad energy'. Is it a bad house, or a good house? Simple question, yet required. When you see ghosts and you don't want to (like me), it's a very valid requirement.
When I walked through the new farm with the realtor, it gave me no sign it was haunted. Though, looking back, the house was dead silent when I went to see it. No creaks or cracks, nothing. Simply holding its breath. Oh, how those ghosts wanted a new person in the house. They wanted it so badly; they held themselves still as I walked through the rooms. Pressing themselves up against the walls, staying small and quiet.
During my walk-through, I only felt a strange sense in one building. The lounge area for events which was attached to the arena. It was a very stale feeling in the building, but I put it off. The rooms hadn't been used in years, and opening some windows to let air through would be enough to freshen it. Or so I thought, but that story is for another time.
With little coaxing, and a dream of fixing it up, we bought the farm.
But the truth of it was, the house was so haunted. I don't know how the previous owners lived there so long.
The hauntings started the very first night we spent in the house and lasted until the day we left, 5 years later. This is the story of the ghosts on the 2nd floor. The Music Man & The Noodle Monster. We gave them funny names because living with them was scary enough.
The Music Man visited every night.
On the first night, I laid my head on the pillow after a long day of moving furniture and settling in when I heard AC/DC playing on my radio alarm clock. Perhaps it had been accidentally switched on. But when I turned over to check, it was off. It played just loud enough I could hear the tune, but not the words. I was so tired; I rolled over onto my back and decided I would deal with the broken radio in the morning.
As I lay still, about to sleep, I felt a heavy pressure on my torso. Something was sitting on my chest. It was pressing down on me, and the radio sound got louder. I lay still, afraid to move. If I had seen myself from above, I would have looked like I was suffering from paralysis. Yet, my eyes were squeezed shut. So tight, so scared. Waiting to find out what was going to happen next. Frozen in fear. I mean, I had seen ghosts before, but never FELT THEM. This guy was heavy, and he was sitting on my chest. I could barely breathe.
My house was haunted, and whomever we shared the house with was coming out to play.
A few seconds later, the ghost got up and left the room. I couldn't see him, only hear, and feel him. I guess the whole moment was a 'welcome to the house' and I was their guest. Now wide awake, I wondered if we could call the lawyers and back out of the sale. The music still coming softly from the radio, I instantly regretted moving in and knew there was no way we would be able to back out.
The Noodle Monster Lived in the Hall.
My children's first experience with the spirits of the house also happened on the second floor. The kids rooms faced each other at the end of the hall. They would often play in my daughter's room together. One day, as they played, something in the doorway caught their eye. A man and a small boy popped their heads into the doorway. Long scraggly hair and dark faces, they scared the kids with their dark, hollow eyes.
'The Noodle Monster' is what my kids named them. The pair would pop out in the doorway when the kids were looking, and then run away down the hall.
The Noodle Monster became a part of everyday life in our house. My kids claimed the ghosts weren't allowed in the rooms, only the hall. They didn't like anyone seeing their backs, which is why they only scared my kids when they were together.
As the years went on, my kids got used to the Noodle Monster's antics. I would simply hear them yell down the stairs, 'The noodle monster was here again!'. Better than the screaming and crying during the first few times they scared my kids. My dog, Losty, got involved in the scandal, and started sleeping outside the kids' rooms every night, protecting them from the house. Which was strange as Losty was my dog and went everywhere with me.
But my kids hadn't convinced me the Noodle Monster was real. I had yet to see him! Was the Noodle Monster real? I would have seen him by this point, but the house let the spirits out for different people. He laid quiet around me.
But the Noodle Monster didn't want me moving out without a jump scare. On my last day in the house, I stood in the upstairs bathroom, blow drying my hair. The bathroom door was open. In a flash, the noodle monster popped his head around the corner. The taller one's face level with mine. I was in such a shock, I threw the blow dryer across the bathroom, breaking it. He must have been pleased with himself. Knowing it was his last chance to scare me, and to solidify my kids' stories.
The noodle monster was real, and he was scary as hell. His hollow dark eyes, straggly hair and weird sense of humour were enough to be afraid.
But he wasn't the scariest ghost at the farm. I'll tell you about that one another day.