Falling Waters, West Virginia. The year was 1999, and your's truly was going to be moving out of her little home town of McDonough, Georgia for the very first time. My Mother and Stepfather at the time, worked for Sealy Mattress Company which required them to sometimes travel and relocate for work. Since they were a couple and both worked for the same company we were relocated to a small town in West Virginia, off of route 81 called Falling Waters. We were expected to remain there for the duration of about a year or so.
Ironically, it was also the first time I would be flying in an airplane. Long story short, my Mom, medicated herself to sleep during the flight. She wasn't a big fan of heights. The Stepdad was seated too far away, which left me all by myself talking to this sweet old lady the whole flight, until we landed. She was really super sweet and I still remember her to this day.
Unfortunately, when we landed the house we were meant to be living in wasn't ready for us, yet. So, I remember the company putting us up in this really nice four-story Hotel. I remember it looking so big and fancy. Keep in mind, I was only a scrawny nine year old kid, so everything looked bigger to me. Granted, this was the first time I'd ever moved out of Georgia, so my eyes were wide with excitement and adventure, everything was new.
After a few days of being cooped up in the hotel, I remember it was finally time for the three of us to drive and see our new house. As far as I knew it was picked out for us and it would be the first time my parents were seeing it too. When we pulled up into the driveway the first thing I noticed was that our neighbor was literally a Church on one side and an Arts and Craft store on the other side. Even stranger, the Arts and Crafts store looked like it was actually an extension from the house we were going to be living in.
As we make our way inside, you are met with an old wooden staircase that leads up two flights of stairs, to the right is the living room, from which you can enter the dining room from the right, or the kitchen from the left. From the kitchen a long hallway lead to a spare bedroom and bathroom. I should go ahead and mention this house was huge. It was four-stories with a cellar and attic that span the length of the house. This house was also very ancient.
The wooden floors were real hard wood. The wood was so old you couldn't walk on it barefoot without literally getting splinters in your feet. The only place carpeted in the whole house was weirdly enough, the attic. On the second floor of the house there were four bedrooms and a bathroom with an old victorian porcelain tub. One of the bedrooms had the door which lead up into the attic, that room ironically, would eventually end up being my "play room".
Of course, as I went wondering off exploring the new house, I found myself alone in the attic. I remember traversing the staircase up into the attic and being met with this overwhelming heat, almost like a sauna. This was really weird for a couple of reasons. One: It was Winter in West Virginia. There was snow on the ground and snow fall, it was really cold outside. Two: We had just gotten there so no heating had been turned on yet. Also, with as big as that house was there was no way, logically, for heat to travel up there that fast in that amount of time.
For the most part the attic was empty, carpeted, hot and just creepy. At the end of the attic there was a window which peered out onto the street Infront of the house. As I made my way over to it, I noticed a lot of black things buzzing around the window. It was a shit load of flies. Where the hell did they all come from? This was something out of the exorcist. I just remember feeling weird about it, the vibes I was getting from this house, even as a little girl, were strange to say the very least. But honestly, I eventually forgot about it and continued on with life as normal.
Some time passed, my parents settled into their jobs while I settled into life as a fourth grader at a new school. I was always a quiet and shy girl who found her solace in being a loner and playing video games. Surprisingly though, I could also be quite outgoing, once I felt comfortable enough around people to do so. I eventually wound up making a really good friend (Who I am still friends with to this day) we will call her K.L. for privacy purposes. Her and I were as thick as thieves, she quickly became my best friend and we spent loads of time together.
K.L. and I would take turns sleeping over at one another's house on the weekend's. Sometimes I would stay with her at her Dad's but most of the time we were at her Mom's house getting into trouble. (Not, really. We were good kids.) On this particular weekend she was staying with me over at my house, like many other times before. I can't remember what we spent the earlier part of the day doing but I remember that night we were up in my bedroom just hanging out watching a movie. My parents had already gone to bed, it was super late, sometime in the early A.M.s
K.L. and I decide that we are hungry so we head downstairs to rummage through the kitchen for some snacks. As we exit my room we are talking and giggling to ourselves as we descend the stairs. We make it to the middle landing of the staircase when all of a sudden we both hear something, loud. From the middle landing of that staircase you are able to see clearly into the whole living room. My parents kept a few lamps on at night to give off some light downstairs.
As I looked up, all I could see was the long drapping curtains of the window being pushed up like a gust of wind had blown threw (The windows were all closed, just fyi.) a tall standing lamp is knocked over, and though I can't see anyone running, I can hear the footsteps bolting from the living room window to the kitchen. I can't tell if they were a child's or an adult's, I just know that whatever we had just spooked wasn't expecting us, at all, to be down there. It was as if we scared it as much as it scared us.
Truth be told, neither me nor K.L. told my parent's what happened that night. We didn't even know how to begin to try. Basically, we both ran back upstairs scared to death and slept in my parents bedroom floor with no pillows or blankets. When they woke up the next morning we had to make up some random excuse to why we were asleep in their floor. I can't remember what we told them.
I thought this would be the only strange thing to happen to me in this house but I was very wrong. The last piece of this story I am about to share is very important and a key piece, in my overall story and experiences, that I have yet to share.
I don't recall exactly how much time passed between mine and K.L.'s experience together and this one, all I can remember is waking up one day and feeling as if though nothing I was seeing or experiencing was real. I felt completely disconnected from reality. My own Mom didn't seem real, my friends, family, hell even Teacher's. I stayed that way for a period of two weeks. I didn't talk to a single soul about how I was feeling. I didn't even know how to explain it. So, I dealt with it in silence.
Now that I am older, and can understand these experiences better and after the past 23 year's of paranormal experiences, there's a part of me that fully believes whatever spirit was in that house attached itself to me and has been with me ever since. I have no way of proving this, all I have are my own experiences and shared experiences to tie it all together and try to make sense of it all.
To this day, this house still stands and has been turned into a Public Floral Shop. I have pondered giving them a call to see if they have ever experienced anything odd in that house, since owning it. Maybe one day, I shall.
