Newlyweds 

(Annonymously submitted)

My husband and I moved into our first home shortly after our marriage nearly 30 years ago.  It was a darling house on the Alameda de las Pulgas in San Carlos, California.  Although I loved the yard with lots of fruit trees and the bright, cheery kitchen and sewing room for me, I hated the basement where the laundry facilities were located.  Every time I opened the door I felt a dangerous, oppressive chill and a knot in the pit of my stomach.  My husband told me to grow up and stop letting my imagination get the better of me. 
I was a stay-at-home wife and had a small business breeding show dogs and writing and recording music.  My husband worked nights, so I often spent my evenings working as long as I could stay awake so we could sleep in together during the day.

One night my dogs were acting strangely … cowering under the table and whimpering while I was trying to record a new song (no, it wasn’t my voice!).  I’d quiet them down and go back to recording, periodically playing back what I’d recorded to see whether it was coming together as I’d intended.  There, in the background, were these creepy voices talking to each other.  I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it was definitely a conversation and it definitely felt like it was about me.  That night I stayed up with my dogs and played records until my husband came home.  I told him what happened and played back the recording.  He heard the voices, but wasn’t ready to agree that it was spirits. 

That started a series of scary nights where we would wake up to see large black forms in our room or in the hallway or in the basement.  After a couple of weeks he finally admitted that he thought the house was haunted and that we needed to move.  Luckily the spirits didn’t follow us and we were able to start fresh without uninvited house guests.