A little wired and a little weird.

Can't sleep. Listening to Coast to Coast, with your host, George Noory. Problem is, the topic of the first hour got me to thinking.

They were talking about shadow figures and strange forces people have had encounters with.

So here's my story. Nothing terribly scary. But my parents have a ghostie in their house. Maybe more than one. But there is definitely something.

Mom thinks it's gone. She believes it's attached to something either April or I have carried off from the house.

I don't agree that it's gone.

A few stories.

One time, the family was in the TV Room in the basement, along with our Golden Retriever, Molly. We were watching TV or a movie. The door to the TV Room looks out into the basement, which is largely empty. Out of the corners of all our eyes, we all see something walk past the door in the basement. All of us, including the dog, turn to look. I remember thinking "Who was that?" Then the dog jumped up and gave the most horrific growl I can remember that sweet dog ever giving. The hackles on her neck when up. She went tearing into the basement. After a second, I went out, and saw Molly looking around confusedly. I was a little confused, too.

But I also felt like I didn't want to be down there anymore.

More than a few times since then, I've been down in the basement, and for no good apparent reason, a dark feeling just kind of washes over you, and I just don't want to be down there anymore.

It's happened as recently as three or four weeks ago. I was in the basement doing laundry one night. And I just got that feeling of being watched. And I figured it was my Dad or one of the cats following me down. But I was alone. And for no good reason, all the hairs on my neck stood up.

Also:

You'll see little things out of the corner of your eye. Small things. Cats, I call them. I'll see them, and I'll think one of the cats has followed me downstairs, and when I turn to look, there's nothing there.

Mom and Dad will tell you that it's nothing. But at the same time, they don't hang out in the old TV room in the basement anymore. I don't know if it was a conscious decision...they got a sunroom...but neither of them spends a lot of time down there anymore.

Another basement thing: Sally, the little black lab, won't stay in the basement by herself. Maximus, the pug, isn't allowed down there...but he listens only when he wants to. I don't think he much wants to go down there. Cricket, my grandmother's old pomeranian, would stand on the stair landing, and bark.

The only cat, now that I think about it, who stays down there on her own is Miss Kitty, a big black cat. And she's not right in the head.

But the basement doesn't stay with me. Whatever's down there isn't evil, I think. I think it's territorial, which, as an Acuff, I can understand.

Other things:

One time, I was home by myself on a Christmas break. My folks and sister had gone out of town for New Years. I was up late (insomnia) reading. And I heard someone coming up the stairs toward my bedroom. So naturally, I freak. I had a baseball bat on my shelf, and I grabbed it. I stood next to my doorway, hearing the steps on the staircase...when all of a sudden they turned and ran down the steps.

I ran out into the hall, and didn't see anybody. Armed with the bat, I searched the house pretty good.

I'd gone back upstairs and sat, when I heard it again: steps on the stairs. This time, I just stepped out in the hallway with the bat, and the sounds just stopped. But I got that distinct "Being Watched" feeling. I remember saying out loud something along the lines of "I've got to get to sleep, now" and "Knock it off."

I heard the steps once more, but nothing else. I didn't get much sleep, though.

That bothered me. But it hasn't happened since.

And there are other little things.

My keys went missing off the counter once when I was in high school when I was home alone. I went to look in another room and I heard the sound of metal on countertop. And there were my keys on a clean counter that had previously been empty.

And things will jump off shelves, sometimes. This happened at Christmas, but I don't think my folks believed me, when a wooden Santa carving jumped off the mantle piece while we were eating. I remember setting it back on the mantle, and finding it on the floor again later that night when I went to get a drink of water.

Occasionally an upstairs radio and, on one occasion, my TV in my room, turned itself on.

I had a couple of Batman toys that liked to jump off my bookcase, too.

And that doesn't really bother me, either.

And then there was the time I was downstairs, and my sister was upstairs, and my parents were out someplace. And April and I both heard somebody yell for me. I thought it was my Dad and they'd gotten home. I yelled back: "Yeah?" After getting no response, I asked April if she'd heard Dad, and she said "yeah."

That bothered me, but I got over it.

And I guess I'll close with the cat eyes.

And my sister lobbied hard when we were kids to switch bedrooms. We were both upstairs, and she kept saying she wanted the bigger room, with more windows, or something. And one day, I just said "okay." And we switched rooms.
I think it was a snow day, and we just were itching for something to do.

But I also kinda think that she had the cat eyes, and she wanted out of the room. Every now and then, even as lately as this spring, I'll wake up and see cat eyes. Just for a second, as I woke up. Up someplace. On a shelf. On the dresser. Even on the crossbeams up on the ceiling. Small, animal eyes, close together, glowing green...like a cat. And then you wake up, and there's no cat in the room. And no way for the cat to get in, or up there or wherever. And no light for the eyes to be reflecting.

That still freaks me out.