Yellow Victorian House

A few years ago, two friends of mine, who were living together, moved into a 100+ year old house in the small mountain town where we all worked. The rent was cheap, and it was one of the few places in the town that was available. A classic, yellow Victorian house. After being there a week, two things dawned on them. One was, for some reason, they hadn’t bothered to sleep upstairs in the bedroom yet. They were sleeping on the floor in the living room, and hadn’t really questioned it or thought about it. The second thing was that their dog would never go up the stairs, and would sometimes stare and sniff and pace at the bottom of the stairs, barking at the landing and window that were halfway up the stairs. So the evening they realized this, they decided to sleep upstairs, but couldn’t bring themselves to do it. They weren’t scared or uncomfortable in the house- but they also just somehow wouldn’t go upstairs, especially at night. They had a mutual friend of ours being incense and smudge the house, letting the sage smoke waft through every room. But that didn’t seem to help.After they had been there a few weeks, and were still sleeping downstairs, a neighbor introduced himself. “So it’s just the three of you in the house?”, he asked. “Three of us? There’s just the two of us”, said one of my friends.“Well, maybe one of your grandmothers has been visiting?”“No. What did you see?”Almost every night, when your staircase light is on, I see an old woman, rocking and looking out the window. You guys are pulling my leg. There’s an old women living in there, and you know it.”My friends stayed at a friend’s house that night, and moved out two days later.

by Anonymous