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The young, college-aged man had come home for the week-end. He had enjoyed several days of visiting with both family and friends, although his last visit with friends had ended up much longer and later than he had planned. Which was why he was struggling out of bed well past his usual time.
He made his way to the bathroom down the hall from his bedroom. A few moments later he heard the bathroom doorknob rattle. “Hey, I’m in here,” he called to whichever sibling must still be home. “Use the downstairs bathroom.”
But instead of going downstairs, whoever was on the other side of the door started to hum.
“That’s annoying,” the young man informed his sibling. “Stop it.”
But the humming continued and even increased.
“That is not going to make me come out of here any sooner,” he called.
The humming continued.
“Knock it off,” he yelled, feeling his patience ebb. “And go downstairs!”
The humming persisted.
The young man quickly finished, grabbed hold of the doorknob and yanked the door open. No one was in the hallway. The prankster must have run downstairs when he heard movement on the other side of the door. “I’m going to find you,” the young man called out.
He hurried downstairs. No one was there. He went back up to the bedrooms, they were empty. Finally, he called his mother at her office.
“Mom, who stayed home from school today?” he asked.
“No, one,” she replied.
“No, someone’s here at the house,” he insisted.
“No, I drove everyone to school,” she replied. “There’s no one home but you. Why?”
Standing at the foot of the stairs to the second floor, he heard a soft chuckle followed by a hum and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Nothing Mom,” he replied slowly. “I’m going to go back to school now.”
“Oh, I thought you were going to stay home and sleep in,” she said.
“Yeah, I think it’s better that I go now,” he said, stepping away from the staircase and picking up his overnight bag. The humming stopped, the upstairs bathroom door creaked and the young man finished his conversation and hurried out of the house.
Like what you read? Find more stories by Terri Reid here.
One day I really hope to run into a ghost…I truly want to believe but I am a “seeing is believing” kind of girl. I used to believe but lost it somewhere growing up 🙂
Our CA home was visited by a female ‘ghost’. Somewhat of a practical joker: hubby’s electric shaver was disassembled amd left scattered in the bathtub. The Dustbuster would turn on in the middle of the night. Doors on the entertainment console opened and banged closed; religious books from the bookcase would be on the floor. The computer keyboard on a desk in the bedroom would begin clicking away.
Finally, standing beside me at our bed was a lady in a pale green chiffoney dress. I told her to leave our home and move on to her final resting place. Katharine, I researched, had died many, many years prior before the homes were built. We finally had peace.