So I’ve regaled you with my stories from my home town and my stint in Connecticut, but now I’m going to start you in on what’s happened where I am now… in Millbury, Massachusetts.
In Connecticut, I became close friends with a coworker of mine and when I decided to leave the old house behind, I wanted to return home to Massachusetts and I did just that. At last minute I found myself an apartment in Millbury that needed two room mates, and my friend decided he was fed up with Connecticut as well so he joined me. I had two other room mates at the time, a very nice couple who had lived there for a year already.
Now I’ll start in with some of the bizarre facts of my current (until next week, that is) residence. At one point it was an old school house, then a general store and eventually turned in to a three apartment house with two smaller apartments on the first floor and another on the second. When I moved in, I decided to get myself acclimated to the building and explored everywhere I could. On the second floor we have direct access to the attic for storage. I went almost a year before noticing that the walls and ceiling in the attic weren’t painted black but were actually all charred wood from a house fire. Just the energy in there feels so… oppressive. Not quite bad, aggressive or evil just really noticeably different with a hint of negativity to it. Maybe it’s just all the black, but everyone who’s ever gone up there agrees on the feeling.
The basement, which was eventually locked even though it housed the fuse boxes, is another story entirely. You walk in and the first room is a concrete/dirt floor with concrete walls. Very unfinished, it held random household repair parts like wiring fixtures and pipes. On the back wall was a pentacle in green spray paint. I’ve always been around symbols like that due to most of my friends and even a few girls I’ve dated being Wiccan or Pagan so, while it didn’t disturb me at all, it made me notice it. On the back wall is also a mismatched patchwork door.
Through this door is the access to the hot water heaters, power meters and the circuit breakers, as well as a walled off makeshift locked room that holds all of the tools and supplies for yard work and what have you. What I didn’t notice, at first, was the door across from that. It was an old door with no knob. Instead, it had two wooden slats (a third had broken off) that rotated to sort of lock the door shut from the outside. That really bothered me because I could no wrap my head around any reason as to why the door would ever need to be locked from the outside and in such a crude manner at that. What was past the door shed a bit of light on the situation.
You enter the room and you noticed the partially exposed red brick walls and floor. This room was added on much later than the house was built. There is a small standard basement window by the ceiling, but it’s blocked by wall insulation and an upside down “No Parking” sign screwed in place. In the corner, and I get goosebumps as I write this, is a bare metal cot. There is a coax cable running in to the room, and under that lays one of those plastic mats you put on a carpeted floor to let your computer chair slide on it easier. Someone STAYED in this room. Whether it was by choice or not is another story, but the fact remains. That room had signs of someone, at one point relatively recently, living in that room. The most disturbing part, at least to me, is that on the inside of the door, someone had scribbled what looked like HOMEWORK INSTRUCTIONS in chalk, as well as multiple lines of scratches.
To me, it felt like it was a room someone was put into in the past decade as punishment. In my head, I see a small boy locked away in there with a desk, a computer and a bed so he can do his school work. I say a boy, because of the fact that the window, being so high up, wouldn’t have been that hard to unblock, the scratches being lower on the door, and the bottom outside latch was the one that had broken, possibly from kicking it from the inside to escape.
That room is absolutely terrifying.
At first, it seemed like a normal apartment. Nothing strange really happened in there. Then, my friend and I started hearing noises from the attic. First, it just sounded like light foot steps. I told myself it was probably just the house settling seeing as it was usually at night we heard them. Then, while we were the only ones home, I heard a loud thunderous crash inside my apartment.
As I step out of my room to see what happened to my room mate, he steps out of his to see what happened to me. We both searched the apartment with no sign of what had happened. Then we ventured in to the attic.
Since I tend to either use false names or don’t use names at all, I’ll openly state that, at one point, my room mate grew multiple marijuana plants in his room. I say that because he had large rubbermaid bins in the attic filled with potting soil. They were not light, to say the least. On top of one there was an old metal computer tower, still full of it’s components.
When we found our way up into the attic, we found that not only had the computer tower been laying on the ground feet away from the bin it once rested on, but also the bin itself was moved the other direction and raised up to rest on an elevated floor board some two inches thick.
Around the same time of these noises, my at the time girlfriend was staying over and, much akin to the time I left a girlfriend in my room alone before, I returned to my room to find her shaking, terrified, under some blankets. She told me that as I was in the bathroom, she saw a tall dark figure materialize in front of a kitchen window, walk down the hall towards my room, stop and look at her then find it’s way to the attic door. She is a sound mind (as far as situations like these are concerned. My personal opinions on her now are for an entirely different blog) and would never make something like that up. Within the same week, a painting in the couple’s room was found removed from the wall, turned 90 degrees, and replaced. It was taped to the wall with double sided tape and placed between an adjacent wall and a book case with only an inch or so on either side.
It wasn’t until some room mates left, new ones moved in and I met someone more “sensitive,” that things really picked up and took a turn for the worse. When I come back to this, I’ll tell you those events which include shattering glass, mysterious scratches in the night, and terrifying experiences involving people talking in their sleep. Also, in a past post, I talked about forced imaginations. More of those, including the most recent one that caused me to write that post all together. Thanks for reading.
- Unrelated to these events, I will be moving within the next week to my new (hopefully non-haunted) apartment in Rhode Island, so if I don’t get back to this for a week or two, hold tight. I’ll finish these for you, and in great detail.