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Author: Robert Credeur
Location: Opelousas, Louisiana
Ture Story
This story is 100% factual. It is, however, rather long so you may need some time to read it. I hope you find it worth your time..
"I've already looked and there is no one here!" I protested.
Kyle finally piped up. "I don't know you very well, but I know what I just heard. There was a woman in this house and she was calling your name. I still can't get over the fact that you didn't hear it because it was very loud and came from the vicinity of your living room, so if you guys are playing some joke on me, its becoming increasingly unfunny."
Hoping to ease the situation I replied "Look, it must have come from the neighbors. So lets all forget about it. No harm done". Mike looked very nervous and scared, stated again that he definitely heard the voice, and that it came from inside of the house - not from neighbors a good distance away. Kyle was extremely nervous and expressed his desire to leave. After some further discussion and my trying to calm everyone's nerves, Mike and Kyle left my house and I went back to my everyday activities without giving it much further thought until two Sundays later.
It was afternoon and I was on the phone with a good friend named Karen. I was sitting in my recliner located in the living room, clothed in only my underwear (a privilege granted by the fact that I now lived alone) and was chatting away quite happily about a party we were planning at my house for the following Saturday. All of a sudden I heard a woman's voice saying something from the adjoining kitchen. I was so suprised that I didn't pay much attention to what was being said. I was more concerned with having no clothes on. I immediately dropped the phone, lept out of my chair, and grabbed a large T-shirt that I had left draped over the furniture. As I was doing this I said, "Who's there". There was no answer. I walked in to my kitchen and no one was there. The kitchen door was still latched and my house was silent. My grandparents were away for the afternoon visiting relatives. My sister was with them. Feeling pretty spooked, I went back to the phone and said "You will never believe what just happened"
"Who's there?" Karen asked.
"No one" I replied. "There isn't anyone here".
"I just heard a woman talking to you" she said.
Feeling a little relieved that I was not going losing my mind, I told her that I had heard it too. I asked her if she heard what was said but she could only say that it sounded like my mother or my grandmother (their voice inflections were very similar). "My grandmother is gone, Karen. There's nobody in the house but me." Karen then gave me the best advice I could think of at the time . She said "Get out of the house".
I immediately hung up the phone and did so as quickly as possible. I was very afraid.
I stayed at my grandparents that whole afternoon. I thought that I might be having a mental breakdown myself. Yet Karen's hearing the voice ruled that one out. Perhaps it was the neighbors, but they really were too far away. I knew that the voice came from my kitchen and, yes, it sounded like my mother or grandmother. Both choices were included in the realm of impossibility. I was too scared to go back home and did not know what I would do. So I waited...
My grandparents returned at 5:00 PM that evening, and they were immediately confronted by a seemingly irrational grandson. I told them about the situation. My grandfather, a gentle man who was badly affected by my mother's death, listened up to the part where I said it sounded like my mother's s voice. He then became uncharacteristically angry and yelled at me, insisting that I "get my butt home and be sure to never talk about this again". My grandmother said nothing. I begrudgly went back home. I cautiously walked in and for a while was too scared to make a sound, still trying to piece together in my mind what had happened and looking for a viable explanation. At one point, I opened all of the windows and drapes, turned on the television, and tried to make things as cheery as possible in the house. After all, it was my house. I helped a little, but I slept with the light on for the next few nights.
Karen told a good number of people about the incident, so by the time the party rolled around that Saturday everyone was interested in my ghost whom everyone was calling "George" (I don't know why the male name; it was a female voice we had heard). At one point Karen and Mike were retelling their stories to the group of 15 (who were all sleeping over, incidentally). One girl Maria, who was feeling particularly spooked, got up and said "I am going to the restroom. When I come back I want all of this nonsense stopped. I will not stay in a house I cannot sleep in". She then said to the ceiling "And George, I will not let you ruin a perfectly good party. Keep yourself hidden". She then walked away from the group and down the hall to the bathroom. Just as she crossed under the attic door , it fell open and hit her in the back of the head knocking her to the ground. She screamed and we all went to her assistance. The attic door was one of the kind which had springs to hold it up flush against the ceiling and a ladder that folded out from it for easy access into the attic. A few years previously one of the springs had broken and the attic door hung ajar from the ceiling. To remedy this, my stepfather had put a nail in the ceiling and bent it back to hold the attic door in place. After seeing that Maria was all right, I began to fold the ladder back up and the lift the door to the ceiling explaining to everyone that the door spring were broken and that the nail had simply slipped. The door would not go up entirely, though; the nail was still in its place and had not been moved. No one slept over that night. Karen was nice enough to help me clean up and was looking very apologetic for the nights events. I kept rambling there being a reasonable explanation for all this. At one point, Karen suggested something. "I think you should move" she said. "Don't be silly" I responded. "This is my house". At that moment my stereo began blaring at a deafening volume. We looked at each other and walked over to the stereo together. I tried turning it off but it wouldn't respond. I then who looked up a Karen who was holding the cord in her hands. It was unplugged. I grabbed it from her. I looked at the cord and back to the stereo over and over, not comprehending how this could be happening. then it just stopped. I grabbed some things and slept at Karen's house that night.
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