“This story took place three years ago at my dad’s house. My husband and I had lost our home to foreclosure and good soul that he is, my dad offered to let us stay with him for a while till we got back on our feet financially. So he gave us the upstairs quarters of his house while he slept on a bed downstairs.
The house used to be a tractor shed, and when my family moved to Georgia from California 29 years ago they converted the tractor shed into a two-story house. My grandma lived in it until my dad took her to a nursing home in 2007. She passed away later that same year and he moved into her house where he still is now. Anyway, that’s the history of the place.
On the day in question, when I had my experience, my dad and husband were both at work and my daughter was at school. It was around eleven in the morning and too early for all three to be home yet. I was alone there since I was out of work at the time and was upstairs in the bathroom.
There’s a door that opens into the upstairs quarters and I had it closed as well as the bathroom door. As I was sitting in the bathroom, I heard these heavy, slow footsteps coming up the stairs. My grandma used to walk like that before she died. I got nervous and called out ‘Who’s there?’ and no one answered. Yes, I was scared! I had locked both doors downstairs, front and back, before going up to the bathroom.
I tried to ignore the sounds and go back to the book I was reading, but my reading was interrupted a second time by the footsteps. Each time, they stopped on the top step just outside the closed door that led upstairs. I didn’t hear them a third time, but when I went down to wash my hands (there wasn’t a sink installed in the upstairs bath), I found the house completely empty and both doors still locked.
My husband scoffs at the idea of ghosts and says there are only demons. I asked him what the footsteps could’ve been since he thought he was so well informed about the afterlife or lack thereof, and he couldn’t come up with an answer. I don’t remember if my hairs were standing up or not, it’s been three years, but I do remember being anxious to get out of the house and outside away from it.”
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