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Author Topic: The Wallingford Haunting  (Read 3831 times)
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« on: October 29, 2008, 09:06:36 AM »

What causes a house to be haunted or thrown into chaos with unexplained activity? Is it an infestation of ghosts? Is it the arrival of spirits that many call "demonic" through the invitation of a Ouija board? Or do the disturbances arise from the darkest, uncharted recesses of the human psyche? You can draw your own conclusions as Lauren A. recalls the frightening experiences that terrorized her, her family, and friends over many years. This is Lauren's story...

AS I WILL be moving out of this house in a few weeks, I figure now is as good a time as any to tell my story, and you'll know why I am leaving. I grew up in this house in Wallingford, Pennsylvania. I'm not exactly sure what plagues it – or me in particular (the activity seems to directly center on me, or when appearing to others in my family, it mimics me) – but it has been going on for a very long time. I'm nineteen years old now, and this has been going on for as long as I can remember, maybe even before then.


When my family first moved here, I was about two and my sister was a few months old. I'm sure it was my parents' dream house, as we didn't leave even after my father passed. I can recall one odd story that my parents frequently spoke of:

My dad had a large key ring, one with more than ten keys on it, and one morning it was just gone. He was a believer in the occult and firmly believed that a ghost or phantom of some sort took his keys. Needless to say, after having looked everywhere for these keys, they could not be found. Until three days later. Apparently, my sister and I complained about sleeping in our room, so we slept in our parents’ room. My sister would cry or something, and I would just panic and yell and scream until I was retrieved from the room, so they put up with us being in their room to get a good night's sleep. My mother went into the room to get us clothes to wear for daycare... and what do you know? In the center of the room lay the keys.

But there's more. The whole room was infested with ants! My mother immediately called the exterminator, but ten minutes later when she returned to the room to assess the damage, the ants were gone. The exterminators came and they drilled holes to find nests, but there were none! Very strange indeed. What's even stranger is that my mother swears the infestation was only in that room, and then it vanished completely.


My mother isn't exactly a skeptic, but for the most part that is how I'd describe her. She has a hard time believing things unless they are presented to her in a fashion that she deems logical. And she believes in a lot of what happened next.

One of my earliest memories is a voice calling to me from the corner of my room one evening, just calling my name, over and over. I remember feeling compelled to go to it. When I found nothing in the corner except a heaviness in the air, I screamed and flew terrified down the steps. This is one of the things my mother says I dreamed. I disagree. Completely.

My father passed when I was seven, and then weird things really began to happen. Perhaps it was because I was getting older and remember more, or maybe his death genuinely worsened the house. My sister, my mother, and I all saw him after he died, sitting as plain as day in several areas of the house – and then he would vanish. I'm sure, though, that my father wasn't the only unearthly presence in the house. He might still be here, but I know he would never try to scare me.


About a year after he died, activity really began to pick up. I was terrified of the dark, and not without reason in this house. I used to sleep with the light on next to my bed on. Before he died, the lights occasionally turned themselves off, but not so much. After he died, they switched off nearly every night, and I would wake up in a panic, cold, and feeling pinned to my bed. Sometimes I would feel something pinching my toes through the blankets. Other times I would just be cold and pinned to the bed.

One night, I recall, I saw a woman walk past my bed, and that was just not okay with me. I fled the room. After a few months of this, the situation was resolved by me sleeping in my mother's room. I would sleep in her bed next to her... and not go in my bedroom room at night. Under no circumstances.

I assume that any paranormal activity beyond that was specifically my own fault. Here's why.


When I was fourteen, I began my studies of the occult and went in search for a new religion. I had been raised a Christian, but Christianity never explained everything for me, so I began to study Wicca. It was in my studies of the occult that I came across the seemingly harmless "toy" known as a Ouija board.

One day, my friends and I decided to make one and use it in my house. This was not so smart. Not only did it begin to consume us, but it also began to divide us as friends.

It started harmlessly enough. We asked the Ouija silly questions, and it would give us answers. We began to ask it other things, things that no one in the group could know answers to. Specifically, I asked my father's last name before he changed it. When it answered correctly, we began to egg it on to show itself. It did not appear, but a shade in my room flew up on its own. That was almost it for me. I fled the room. With coaxing from my friends, I returned and we began to ask more questions.

I asked when the boy I liked would ask me out, and it said: "14 DAYS." Fourteen days later, the boy asked me out. We said our goodnights to the board, and that should have been it, but we were all fascinated, so we made Ouija boards to carry around with us. We even used them at school.

The board never gave us many specific details about anything when we used it at my house, but whatever was speaking to us seemed to possess the ability to read minds: When we asked questions in our heads, the board would answer. It also seemed to see into the future. We were completely obsessed.

We talked to it at each other's houses as well. On one of these occasions, it revealed itself as someone named Evan, who told us he was from Oklahoma. When things really heated up, my friends and I began to fight and became divided. It tried to separate us when we used the boards at home by saying that one of us was talking about one of us behind our backs, and things like that.


One night, my best friend at the time called me in a panic. She had been using her board and it told her that she would die soon. She also revealed to me that every night she swore she had seen a pasty figure with red eyes at the foot of her bed. She believed it was real. I had been sleeping on the floor of my mother's room, but had heard shuffling outside of the door, while our dog (who was being crate trained) was locked in the foyer downstairs. So I told my friend that I would sleep in my room and tell her what I saw. So I did.

That night, the door opened of its own accord, and I swear to this day I saw a figure standing there. I was unable to move. When I finally could move, I flipped on all my lights... and I do not believe I slept the rest of the night.


The next day was simply awful. All our concentrations had been affected by this activity. I don't think any of us were sleeping well. One friend complained of hearing howling outside his window. I resolved to do the only logical thing: tell my mom. When you're being bullied by a kid, you tell your mom, so why not if you're being bullied by a ghost?

I told her everything about our Ouija obsession and the things we had experienced. Her response makes me think that what was haunting us was probably not a ghost. It turns out that my mother, although skeptical, knows a lot about the occult. When I finished telling her, she began to go upstairs, froze, then turned toward me and said, "Lauren, you did something bad." I decided right then, no more Ouija boards. My mother performed a house cleansing ritual, and things went back to normal for a few weeks.


Two of my girlfriends who had been involved with the Ouija board wanted to spend the night. We all decided that this would be a ghost-free night, so we went up to the attic and got my glitter makeup kit. And that was when it happened.

The lights flickered and the one girl who had complained that she had seen the figure by her bed began to cackle. The other girl and I were freaked out and went downstairs, leaving her up there cackling to herself. I was terrified and grabbed the Bible. The girl with me was a big girl and pretty strong, and when the cackling girl ran down the attic steps grabbing at me with my Bible, the big girl grabbed her. The cackling girl, needless to say, was displeased and began to hiss, spit, and tried to attack the Bible.

Just then, my mother returned home with a pizza, and the restrained girl dropped to her knees in a semi-conscious state. She was revived and back to normal, and we thought that everything would be okay. But the rest of the night was a wreck.

We were all terrified, particularly because the cackling girl had no recollection of what happened that night. But soon things began to get better, and stayed better for a few years. We had to do many more house cleansings when the activity would pick up again, but everything was alright.


Today, however, the house has never been more active: foul smells, doors slamming, and strange whispering. It all seems to center on me, but my boyfriend has been struck a few times by something unseen, and my mother has heard my voice calling her when there is no one in the house. She swears it is me... and shouldn't she know her own child's voice?

Things have gotten even worse since my mother's boyfriend hit me. I've chosen to pack up my things and begin life on my own while studying to be a demonologist and a writer. I can only hope that it’s the house that was haunted... and that it's not me.
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