We had just stepped off the ferry and were waiting for the rest of our things to be put in the truck. We were finally here. A small island just off the coast of Oregon. My stepdad had received a job offer here as a marketing manager of some small company, which meant we had to move...again. This move broke the record of how many times we moved in a year. The highest was four. This year was six. It's not that Charles couldn't keep a job, he just got offered a lot of positions because I guess he was good at whatever it was he did. Moving so much was a task for us and it definitely took a toll on the family, especially my mom. But she went about it so well. That was one thing I really admired about my mom. She just went with the flow of things …show more content…
The place I'll have to call "home" until we moved again. I put in my earbuds and turned on some music and watched the passing scenery. I noticed as we navigated closer inland of the island the landscape seemed to remain the same. Mostly pine , evergreen, forest. In fact, that's all it was as far as I could see. After about forty-five minutes we pulled into a round-about sort of neighborhood, with traditional looking houses.We pulled into the furthest driveway. There was your normal looking house, but on a slightly bigger scale. It was gray and reminded me of an oversized …show more content…
Nobody wanted it, so the price dropped." He said. "Oh...why didn't anybody want it?" I asked confused. "The family that used to live here lost their son in a bad accident." Great. I'm living in a dead person’s house. Bet twenty bucks it's haunted. Leaving it on that not so joyful note, I grabbed some cleaning supplies and carried them up to my room. The place looked like it hadn't seen a decent cleaning in two years. I opened the window to let in some fresh air. I was taking in the woodsy scene behind the house when I could've sworn I saw something. It looked like a person. But it was gone faster than it appeared. I shook it off. Probably just the nerves of being in a new surrounding. After a good three hours of cleaning, I shut and locked my window before returning the borrowed supplies downstairs. The kitchen looked much better after our things had been unpacked. It actually looked like a home. Our home. As did the living room. Furniture arranged neatly around the fireplace. Side table lamps provided the room with a warm cozy glow, filling the huge space . It's crazy how fast my mom was at unpacking. Guess you get good at it after doing it so many
Midwestern style home. When you first look at the picture, you will be under the impression that
It looks like a normal house, like one you’d find in the suburbs. It looks like no one’s home, with the little lace curtains drawn shut.
We unloaded heated cardboard boxes from the truck that contained necessities we needed for the night. We spent weeks sorting out our belongings and started filling the home with furniture, appliances and everything you need for a house. It was refreshing to be surrounded by new purchases and a new house that smelled like new carpet. This was a time in which we would basically start as a blank slate. There are not too many times in life where this is possibly but it should be cherished because not many people can experience it. You are used to seeing the same buildings, people and landscape but it’s a different experience when you don’t know the names of your neighbors or where the closest gas station is.
I could think of a place not that far away that use to be happy all day, everyday. The kids were able to stay outside until the street lights came on, having fun like there wasn’t anything going on. Its called our neighborhood. When we were younger there was not this much going on. None of the shooting, fighting and gang violence that's happening now. Everything has changed, people went a little bit too far on drugs, alcohol and stopped caring about their children, their future and everything around them.
What makes this an urban legend are all the accounts of hauntings in this house.
One time during school pick up, my toddler proceeded to have a total meltdown. The kind where his body goes limp and he refuses to move. Of course my baby was in that car seat so I had no other choice but to one-arm that car seat and throw my fit-throwing toddler on my other hip. Somehow I made it down that long hallway and out to the car. I’ve never felt so strong in my entire life! What’s that saying? Something like, “Sometimes we have no idea how strong we are until we have no other choice.” Moms just get stuff done, even when you aren’t sure you’re physically capable.
The Most Popular Haunted House On the beautiful autumn day of November 13, 1974, Ronald DeFeo Jr., shot and killed six family members in their beautiful house, in Amityville, New York. That may seem like just another murder committed and solved, but no, this murder caused many paranormal things to happen in what we now call the Amityville Horror House. Honestly, the amount odd and strange things that has happened in that house is just nerve-wrecking. After the murders, even the neighbors wouldn’t step foot into the house, only paranormal investigators would. Christopher Lutz, is a man who grew up in the Amityville Horror House, knows what haunts that place.
I walked into the house to the smell of the oven cleaning itself and all the windows open to cool the house and get the smell out. I walked into the living room, where it would have been impossible to have a blanket on. I saw my brother standing there covered in mud after his practice for rugby. We talked with
It was far too simple, even with wall decor and stylish furnishings. The center of the space seemed empty and massive, but I found a way to separate the open kitchen and dining
So he left and walked home. He was only a block away when he noticed a “For Sale” sign in the yard. He figured that it must have been her old house. The outside was well kept.
The rolling hills of luscious green spotted with gray stones hidden in fog. The smell of sweet fauna and mountain air as the cold air rushes by. This has been my home for as long as I can remember. I was raised on a medium sized farm, hidden from the bustling town just below us. We have raised chickens, pigs, horses, and cows along with seas of beige grain.
“Dad, I want to move out” as I said these words I had been wanting to say for longer than I could even remember, I could see my dads change in expression, though subtle, terrifying. I could feel the rooms aura shift, the suspense was overwhelming, you could cut the tension with a knife. It felt as if hours had gone by, but then(something like this maybe you could cut the tension in the air with a knife?) my father suddenly broke the silence. “No”, as he said this I could feel the overwhelming disappointment lay over me, I wanted to somehow try and convince him
Everything from the ceiling to the floor was covered in a shade of pasty white, which was not appealing whatsoever. The furniture looked like actual fast food dining tables and seats; plastic monotone colour seats connected with a cheaply designed wooden table. On the edges of the tables were bulky red lines with chairs that had a dull green complexion. Now the confusion for me was a random wooden bookcase near the entrance. When looking upon the bookcase it had a large range of novels that included fantasy, nonfiction, and fiction.
A few boxes were still haphazardly laid out over the shag carpet had not been taken to the new house yet. Resenting the fact that I was up at 4am I got out of my makeshift bed. Which just was a few pillows and a sleeping bag. Looking back at my phone I realized I had wasted a good five minutes just staring at my ceiling.
Nothing ever seems to change when I'm in my grandmother's house. . . It seems to be the o...