My SO bought a house last month. We just moved into it this weekend. It’s a precious house with a 1940’s Betty Crocker kitchen that makes me all kinds of happy inside. [Everytime my SO walks into the kitchen he says: “The pie’s not done YET?”]
But I think it’s possessed. And more importantly, I think my SO is either possessed now due to ownership - or this “moving in together” thing is making him hallucinate. I had about an hour’s sleep last night because I was fretting about ghosts and haunts and restless spirits.
First the house part - the garage door decided to lock itself one day a few weeks ago. We hadn’t moved in, but we were here most every day painting and whatnot. SO had to take the people door off the side of the garage to walk in and open the door from the inside. It’s on an electric opener, therefore we don’t actually touch the door at all to open and close it. So we were a bit dumbfounded at that. That hasnt happened again, but now the door will take to opening itself of its own free will. Honestly. SO went home for lunch on Tuesday and asked if I had been by. I said no. He said: “Huh, the garage door was up.” He was the last one to leave and swears he shut it. I chalked that up to just first- of-the-morning forgetfulness. But THIS morning, it was up again. And I was the one who shut it last night. I am certain I shut it because I was standing outside as it shut, whatching SO’s parents pull away. I turned off the light above garage, and could still see the light on the garage closer, which only comes one when it’s opening or closing. I KNOW it closed. And when I walked out to the car this morning, it was up ???
Now for the SO part - Tuesday night I woke suddenly, to find SO standing up on his side of the bed, looking at me. He was sweating, so I asked if he was ok. He said Yes, go to sleep. The next morning I asked him what was up and he said he didnt remember, but I could tell he did. I pressed once more and he said he didnt want to talk about it, so I dropped it.
Last night, we go to bed around midnight. It takes me a while to fall asleep, especially in a new place and when there’s so much to do throughout the house. SO is snoring as soon as his head hits the pillow. Well a little after 1 am, I was just getting into some real sleep and SO starts flailing about. I bolt up and look over. He flips over onto all fours on the bed, yells “HOLY GOD WHAT THE !@^& IS THAT???” In my just-scared-awake state, I see a black flattened shape flop on the bed in front of him. He slaps at the bed near the shape, then gets up and runs out into the hall. [in my sleep-deprived giddyness today I am laughing hysterically picturing this again] I am up and right behind him, only I flip on the bedroom light while standing out in the hall. I look and see nothing. I ask him what it was. Now, my SO is going on 25. He still has a baby face, even though he’s 6’2" and nearly 280 lbs. He holds his hands up in a circle like a 4 year old and says, half awake and squinting in the light “It was like a big spider” Me, going on 31 and not having a strong phobia of spiders, flip the comforter over, wave the sheets about, look under the bed, behind the bed - and see nothing. I said “Are you sure it was a spider? I thought it was a bat or something, it looked big” (I hate bats. I fear them tremendously. A spider you can squish, a bat you can’t) His eyes get all big and he says “You saw something too??” “I could swear I did.” Well, at that point, it was obvious I really hadn’t or else the bat would be flying around the room, right? We have no curtains up yet for it to hide in. SO just rubs his eyes and says “I want to go home” He falls back on the bed and immediately starts snoring. Bastard. Adrenaline has my heart pumping like I’m running a marathon. I turn the light out, get back in bed tentatively, and lay for hours trying to figure out this little episode.
Maybe we’re both just exhausted from moving (we didnt hire movers). I know I’m doubly exhasuted now.
Maybe I was just seeing a trick of the light, wherein he may have actually had an honest-to-goodness hallucination. And if he did, is he having second thoughts about the house? And me living in it with him?
Maybe the house wants us out, is trying to scare us. Maybe the owner’s dead husband who kept the place in tip top shape for 45 years is not happy with all the computers and new-fangled updates we’ve done to his masterpiece.
Anyone have Buffy’s or Angel’s number?
I need a nap.