The Monkey on my back. Spirits or Demonic? Follow story

For as long as I can remember, my family and I lived in a house with many ghostly disturbances. I never worried about the experiences of things happening when you can't see who is doing it. Doors open and close on their own even after you lock them. An invisible person with loud footsteps would run from the doorway straight at you and through you with loud-sounding boots on the hardwood floors. You can feel the air hit you like as if someone ran into you without someone hitting you full force but didn't hurt me, I would feel the air go through me, but not nothing would hit me, I can't give my everyday experiences, because it was the same thing every day.

My mother, father, brother, and I lived in this lovely house made of red brick and white mortar on top of this hill that was called Oak Hill because of the oak tree beside our house that people used to hang people on, so people for miles could see them hang. Then after they hung there a while, the people would bury the dead in the cemetery just an eighth of a mile away beside this one-room church that I could see out of my bedroom window. I could see a one-room schoolhouse a little to the left of the cemetery and church. That is why our house had so many spirits roaming on our property. My mother told me that she and my dad built the house and had only one room finished when they brought me home from the hospital. I do have 2 older sisters that moved out and lived with their boyfriends.

When I was old enough to understand what a ghost was, I remember that doors would open, and after a few minutes the door would close by itself, we would be watching a scary movie late at night, and when something terrifying would happen the front door would slam open even if it was locked and dead-bolted shut. One night we all woke up to what sounded like a bowling ball bouncing down the basement steps but when we checked there was nothing there, we just turned around and went back to bed, as if nothing happened, no one ever said anything about that night.

I remember the first time that I have seen a ghost it was in our basement, my brother and I were playing pool, and it was my turn and my brother was waiting for me to take my turn, I was too small, so I had to stand on a crate to play I was looking towards the steps and a smokey outline of a man appeared at the bottom of the steps walking faster than his legs were moving, I couldn't see the bottom of his legs from his knees down, he was floating across, and he had long wavy hair, and a thick mustache, he vanished before he got to the archway of the laundry room. At first, I thought I was just seeing things, so I turned to take my turn and my brother screamed and ran up the steps scared at what we had just seen. I was two years younger than my brother, and it didn't scare me at all. I knew that he went to tell my mom what had happened, so I wanted to see if he saw the same thing that I saw. My brother did see what I saw, he gave the same description as what I saw, and I said that was what I saw too, but my brother said that I didn't see it and I just agreed with what he said, but he wouldn't have even seen the ghost if it wasn't for me looking at the ghost he was whining that it was taking me too long to take my turn, that's why he looked that direction to see what I was looking at, I always thought there was something a little off about my brother, Only two years between us, but we never played together or even spoke to each other. When I got a little older, it seemed like my brother was a good foot taller than me. We had pictures of us with a foot difference between us. Before I knew it I started to catch up to my brother, but we still would walk past each other as if the other wasn't even there, I thought maybe he was gay, but it wasn't till I was 50 that my mother finally told me that my brother was gay.

I was much more active than my brother, which gave me broader shoulders and a stockier build than my brother. I had friends that lived close by, one friend lived right beside the one-room school house, we would play in the school all day long, and I could feel strong negative energy inside the school, like something bad happened there, I tried to step inside at night, and the energy was so strong I couldn't even take one step inside. I had other friends 1 or 2 miles away that I would walk to every day, and we would play football or baseball or go fishing. There was a big lake half a mile from my friend's house. My good friends and I had a great childhood. Time felt like it would go so slowly, but the months would fly by faster and faster in a blink of an eye. I kept it a secret from my friends that my house had ghosts.

My dad bought a trailer and set it behind our house for my oldest sister and her two kids when I was in my fourth or fifth grade. I am happy they moved in because my mother had a mild heart problem, and my niece called for help, and an ambulance came and took my mom to the Hospital, but after a week or two, my mom came home.

When I turned 12 years old I moved up to a closer group much older than me, but I fit in with everyone and I started smoking with my friends. It cost me 55 cents for a pack of Marlborough reds, my friends were old enough to have a license, and they own cars and my friends were very crazy and knew how to have a wild time. They liked me because I was down for anything crazy because they were mature enough to know just how wild we could be without losing limbs or getting killed. We did have a close call, always living on the edge. When the day was done walking home through the woods I would think how did we do what we did without killing ourselves? I had 2 bullets spin past my ear so close that it was loud, and I felt the wind past my ear, now I know I almost died right there, and I run fast to get away, those bullets had to have been from far away because I didn't hear the shot and I had hills all around me.

I never let my friends come to my house just because of paranormal activity. I didn't want anyone to see my brother, but only so they wouldn't make fun of me for having a gay-acting brother, at least I thought he was gay. After I got home, and it got dark, I would go down to the basement where I had a chair behind a big rack, so I could hide and smoke, and talk to the ghosts to see if they would answer me but all they would do is blow the lightbulbs out and it's so black you can't find the steps, sometimes I sit in the dark just to smoke. It might sound crazy, but most of the activity was around the bedroom hallway, and living room, but if something did happen it was no big deal to me. I would give it the same attention as I do my brother like he's not even there. My brother would jump out of his skin and scream like a little girl. if a door would open and close. and it's funny because each door would take its turn each door one at a time, the only thing that would raise the hair on my arms is the running attack right through me, it even feels like the wind going through me. It's unexpected and fast I usually say that was a good one, nice job, that was the best so far, but next time you won't get me so good, and it's the timing, and delivery, that got to be perfect, or it doesn't catch me off guard, and they always caught me off guard every time.

One day my brother brought a friend home, it must have been his first friend ever, and my brother had to leave with my father. and I had to entertain this guy. and the spirits got a little restless because of a new person in the house. I played along with it and the ghost made a loud noise, it scared that poor dude so nasty if I could have caught that on tape I would have gotten rich off that. but we didn't own a video recorder.

Well, I turned 13 years old, and my father came home from work and announced that he had sold the house. We have two weeks to pack and go to Mesa Arizona. My father was a man of few words. The only time he spoke to us kids, was when we had done something wrong, and we knew not to do anything wrong. We were good kids. We knew respect, all it took was one time to do something wrong. We learned fast. We were told the weather was the reason we had to move. My father had arthritis and humidity was going to put him in a wheelchair for life. And my father never did get put in a wheelchair in Arizona. So we did the right thing.