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    "Death is no more than passing from one room into another." – HELEN KELLER

Reader Submission - Cleaning A Haunted House Pt. 2

The following is part two in a three part series from Lori Zaremba:

Cleaning A Haunted House.. What I Do For Money Part 2

Where do ghost go? Do they take naps, walks, vacations? That's what I was asking myself when I would go to the haunted house week after week, month after month without a visit from my friend. Every once in a while I would hear the occasional door slam somewhere off in the distance or I would pick up that rubber ball that would find its way to a new location in the house. I could tell immediately when I would arrive at the house each week that my buddy was not in residence. I even started asking my sister C.J who helps me at the house every other week if she had noticed anything. No, nothing. That had been her answer through the whole thing, when I was seeing full body apparitions and being locked out of the house as well as hearing voices, she noticed nothing. Well, something got her attention.

It was pouring the day we went to clean the house. Lightning flashed, thunder boomed and as I pulled into the driveway I saw the blinds move in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

Looks like its going to be an eventful day. We dashed in with all our supplies and I immediately felt the difference in the house and knew my friend was back.

C.J cleans the upstairs and I clean the main floor when we go together. We share the basement. I know what you are thinking. Send your poor sister upstairs to be scared. The real reason is because she doesn't do a very good job on the hard wood floors downstairs. Besides she says there's nothing spooky going on anyway, so...

I started in the kitchen and I could hear C.J grumbling about something as she came back down the steps. "What's wrong?" I asked. She proceeded to tell me that the upstairs master looked like a camp ground; there were tents and sleeping bags laid out all over the room. "Really?" I say to ghostie, "Are you scaring the children again?" C.J. Looked at me and says "you are goofy." and she went back upstairs. I continued with my routine. I finished the kitchen and started in the powder room. I heard a rustling in my cleaning bag behind me. I turned to look and I saw my roll of paper towels unraveling across the kitchen floor. I stepped closer to get a better look and I heard a scream coming from upstairs. I rushed to the steps and took them 2 at a time and yelled "what's wrong?"

I got to the top and C.J. Was standing there as white as a sheet and says "Something wacked me on the head!" I looked at her with disbelief, she told me she was in the bathroom and she was talking to herself, saying "what a mess these kids made of the sink." She went to pick up something off the floor and as she straightened up, something wacked her on the head. She said it felt like a baseball. Hmm... Now I was confused. While someone was rolling my paper towels across the floor downstairs, someone else was whacking my sister on the head with a baseball? I looked down and there was a stuffed animal toy laying on the floor, a duck. I asked "Is this what hit you?" She said "Where the hell did that come from?" then she said "Maybe?" I said "That's a far cry from a baseball!" She was quite agitated, I can't help it, and I started laughing, laughing until I cried. Finally, I pulled myself up off of the floor, got as composed as I could and said "Welcome to my world" She, as any loving sister would do, whips me the bird.

My sister is as tough as nails. She is a third degree black belt in Tao Kwon-Doe. She would rip me to shreds as she would lay down her life to protect me. That day I saw her as a little girl, frightened by the boogeyman. She would no longer go upstairs in the house by herself.

Wherever my ghost had been hiding all those months, he must not have liked it very much because he was at the house almost every week after that day; at least I thought he was.

It was my day to clean alone. I arrived at the house and once again my key would not unlock the door. I heard a child's giggle from inside, oh; I guess the kids are home today. I turned the knob on the door and it opened. I call out "Hello" as I did the alarm started beeping. I hurried and put my code in before it went off. I guess the kids were not home, weird. As I walked in the kitchen and I heard a ball bouncing in the foyer. I walked down to investigate and I saw that rubber ball roll into the piano room. I walked over and once again felt the freezing air. "WHEW..." I could see my breath. I looked around with the rubber ball in my hand and say "What's up with this rubber ball?" "Do you like it because it has a picture of a puppy in it? Did you have a puppy like this?" Nothing, no answer. I got to work.

I got into the powder room to use it and I shut the door. I immediately heard a conversation going on. It sounded like a man and a woman and it was continuous, although I couldn't make out what they were saying. I opened the door, it stopped, closed the door it started again. I listened closely the voices were coming from the sink drain, hmm... The basement? I dashed to the basement door and got halfway down the steps, I couldn't hear anything. Then I thought of every horror movie that I have ever seen when the dumb blonde decides to go down into the dark basement to meet her demise, no way, not this blonde, see ya! I dashed up the steps back to the powder room and shut the door; I could no longer hear the conversation. I did notice that my roll of paper towels was in the toilet, "Awe give me a break, yuck!" Did you know that a roll of Bounty paper towels can absorb about 15 pounds of water? It's true.

The following week my sister and I went to the house, my sister was wearing two gaudy chains with crosses around her neck she found at an estate sale. She walked into the house and announced to anyone listening. "We are here to clean this house, you are not allowed to harass or hurt us, no touching!"

We cleaned the house together since she would not go off on her own. It takes us twice as long. We are packing up all of our stuff, I was loading the car which was parked 2 feet from the door we enter and exit from. C.J. Was in the kitchen about 10 feet from the door. I heard a voice and as I say "What?" I turned and see a boy about 6 or 7 years old run into the doorway to the laundry room which is between where my sister was standing and where I was. I gasped and looked at her, by the look of astonishment on her face, she saw him to. We both ran to the laundry room door, he was gone but the clothes on the line were still swinging from him brushing them on his way by. We stood there in complete silence; my sister broke the silence by saying "Wow."

The drive home was silent.

C.J. Called me that night and we discussed what happened, she is very sad because it is a little boy and she wants to know why is he here? Where are his parents? How could they leave him behind? Is the man I saw his father?

Many people ask me if I have talked to the owners about this, I have dropped a few suggestions of some weird things happening but I do not want to scare them. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. I am sure the kids have noticed things but then again they may just blame each other. I have gone there when the girls are home and they seem great. They are very outgoing, friendly and smart. These ghost are not harmful and do seem to like this home. My feelings are that they like the family, maybe that is what they lost and just want to be part of again.

When we go there now, there is no fear. I dance and sing while I am cleaning because I know the little one is entertained by it, I can hear him giggle once in a while. He follows me here and there and sometimes he will pull on my shirt hem to get my attention. The ball still bounces around the house as well as some of the other toys he seems fascinated by. The best thing is the day I had to use the toilet and I told him he wasn't allowed to come in. I shut the door and he gently knocked on the door the whole time I was in there.

Ghost are just people who have past away. Some simply want to be acknowledged.

The story does continue.....

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