AnonyJ
Captainess Sensible
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2015
- Messages
- 1,987
- Location
- Having-a-nice-cup-of-tea-and-a-sit-down-shire
This is the story of the 'ghostliest' thing to ever happen to me, I've been meaning to tell it since I joined but as the time period involved concurs with unrelated events close to my heart, I've put it off for quite some time as I didn't want to mentally project myself back there, if that makes sense.
It was 1991-92, I moved into a shared maisonette above a private clinic for 6 months alongside 2 other young women and one of their partners. I think the tenancy lasted September '91 until April '92 or thereabouts. I'll try very hard to give specifics without identifying details! Please excuse my wandering off on descriptive tangents as I think very visually.
Small market town in south west England, unremarkable, history dating back at least 1500 years. The house was I would guess late 18th century or perhaps very early 19th, local stone built into the side of a slope with a narrow lane leading up the side to access the maisonette on top. It was a 2-and-a-bit storey high-ceilinged house with 2 bedrooms made from the attics on top. Very spacious and a slightly rambling layout that led through room to room in the living areas
I had the the right-hand attic room with a tiny window and one one side a rough stone wall that curved because I think it may have housed the chimney flue from the clinic rooms below. The door was simple original wood planks, with an old fashioned latch handle. Now we were all below 21, a bit alternative for the time and location, all slightly (or more) transgressive when it came to mind-altering substances (legal and illegal) and into music and long, late night sessions of talking, smoking and all the rest.
I was a bit of a hippy and had returned one day from somewhere like Glastonbury with a string of bells, very rough and ready brass(?) corded onto a thin jute rope. I attached them to the inside of my door so that they'd jingle if someone pressed the latch and tried to enter as there was no lock on my bedroom door.
One night, I was still awake and reading, sitting on my bed and probably smoking (maybe about 3am, I've always been a night owl) when I heard the floorboards on the tiny landing between my attic and another (slept in by 'H') creaking. The half flight of stairs to our attics were a bit narrow and bare wood, the floor there was very creaky. There was just enough room there for a tall person to stand but it couldn't have been more than 6.5ft to the apex of that part of the roof. The creaking went on as if someone was just standing there, maybe shifting their weight slightly. I looked at the door from my sitting position on the bed.
Then the bells jingled, the latch didn't move, but as if someone was just pulling and pushing the outer handle gently for about 4 or 5 seconds - I got up and to the door within a few seconds, thinking maybe an unknown guest of another housemate was a bit 'out of it' and maybe a bit lost in the upper bits of the house. We kept the light on at night in this funny little stairs area as the switch was at the bottom, as it was a bit of a pain (and hazardous) to get to the end of the 'stairs-landing-switchback-stairs-another-landing' layout before you could see at night.
No-one was there.
It hadn't been a partying kind of night. H I knew had gone to stay with her BF for a few days so her room was dark and empty. The rest of the house was empty apart from the other girl 'T' and her partner who as far as I could tell were still asleep in their room located at the half-way level where the stairs turned. No-one else was up, no unexpected people on sofas or snoozing on the floor that night at all.
The weird thing is, I didn't feel scared, just very puzzled. Still don't feel spooked by it! Maybe 'someone' was just checking I had my door closed and/or was OK?
I got to the door literally no more than 3 seconds after the jingling stopped, I suppose someone could have quickly run down the stairs and through the rooms ahead of me but I heard no sounds of running, footsteps or similar, bearing in mind at least half of the floors were bare polished floorboards and old and creaky.
It was 1991-92, I moved into a shared maisonette above a private clinic for 6 months alongside 2 other young women and one of their partners. I think the tenancy lasted September '91 until April '92 or thereabouts. I'll try very hard to give specifics without identifying details! Please excuse my wandering off on descriptive tangents as I think very visually.
Small market town in south west England, unremarkable, history dating back at least 1500 years. The house was I would guess late 18th century or perhaps very early 19th, local stone built into the side of a slope with a narrow lane leading up the side to access the maisonette on top. It was a 2-and-a-bit storey high-ceilinged house with 2 bedrooms made from the attics on top. Very spacious and a slightly rambling layout that led through room to room in the living areas
I had the the right-hand attic room with a tiny window and one one side a rough stone wall that curved because I think it may have housed the chimney flue from the clinic rooms below. The door was simple original wood planks, with an old fashioned latch handle. Now we were all below 21, a bit alternative for the time and location, all slightly (or more) transgressive when it came to mind-altering substances (legal and illegal) and into music and long, late night sessions of talking, smoking and all the rest.
I was a bit of a hippy and had returned one day from somewhere like Glastonbury with a string of bells, very rough and ready brass(?) corded onto a thin jute rope. I attached them to the inside of my door so that they'd jingle if someone pressed the latch and tried to enter as there was no lock on my bedroom door.
One night, I was still awake and reading, sitting on my bed and probably smoking (maybe about 3am, I've always been a night owl) when I heard the floorboards on the tiny landing between my attic and another (slept in by 'H') creaking. The half flight of stairs to our attics were a bit narrow and bare wood, the floor there was very creaky. There was just enough room there for a tall person to stand but it couldn't have been more than 6.5ft to the apex of that part of the roof. The creaking went on as if someone was just standing there, maybe shifting their weight slightly. I looked at the door from my sitting position on the bed.
Then the bells jingled, the latch didn't move, but as if someone was just pulling and pushing the outer handle gently for about 4 or 5 seconds - I got up and to the door within a few seconds, thinking maybe an unknown guest of another housemate was a bit 'out of it' and maybe a bit lost in the upper bits of the house. We kept the light on at night in this funny little stairs area as the switch was at the bottom, as it was a bit of a pain (and hazardous) to get to the end of the 'stairs-landing-switchback-stairs-another-landing' layout before you could see at night.
No-one was there.
It hadn't been a partying kind of night. H I knew had gone to stay with her BF for a few days so her room was dark and empty. The rest of the house was empty apart from the other girl 'T' and her partner who as far as I could tell were still asleep in their room located at the half-way level where the stairs turned. No-one else was up, no unexpected people on sofas or snoozing on the floor that night at all.
The weird thing is, I didn't feel scared, just very puzzled. Still don't feel spooked by it! Maybe 'someone' was just checking I had my door closed and/or was OK?
I got to the door literally no more than 3 seconds after the jingling stopped, I suppose someone could have quickly run down the stairs and through the rooms ahead of me but I heard no sounds of running, footsteps or similar, bearing in mind at least half of the floors were bare polished floorboards and old and creaky.
