I stared at the ceiling trying to take comfort in what everyone kept telling me. 'It is a new house filled with new sounds' or 'There are all kinds of squeaks and bumps that are just a normal part of a house settling'. This was no squeaky floorboard. No furnace kicking in to warm the air. This was a disembodied moan. A ghostly moan that seemingly had no point of origin. In a futile attempt, I closed my eyes praying that the loss of sight would make the sound disappear. All that did was allow the fear to settle in deeper. I was becoming paralyzed by the haunting that was taking place in my own home.


With all the courage I could gather, I let one foot find the floor followed by the other. As I sat up and left the safety of my covers, the dreadful sound filled my ears. I had to find out what was happening. Night after night with little to no sleep has made me a wreck. I took the first baby steps toward the door of my room and made my way into the hall. When I closed the door the groaning suddenly stopped. After a few minutes of maddening silence in the darkness, I decided to check downstairs. I flipped the on the kitchen light. Nothing. A quick sweep of the first floor. Nobody.


As I flipped the kitchen light off, the moaning began again. This was the first time I had heard it from downstairs and I could definitely tell it was coming from above. Determined to face the ghost, I lept up the stairs taking them two at a time. With my senses now peaked, I zeroed in on the sound coming from the bedroom down the hall. It was louder and scarier than ever before. It sounded like someone was in complete agony. I ran passed my room and grabbed for the door knob. Upon opening, I saw a sweaty deranged man choking a helpless lady.

Just then my dad turned to me from his bed and yelled, "Get the hell out of here Tommy!" Overlapped with my mom saying, "I told you we needed a lock on that door!"