The House That Raised Me Pt. 7

I can’t believe I forgot this story. This happened when things were just starting to get really weird, but the family was still doing well.

When we were doing well, we had a lot of fun together as a family. We would go out on family trips for the day, which is when the front door was opening itself. One thing we did typically was have a bunch of other kids come to the house and my step mom and dad would go up the street to the bar to have their fun. The bar was only a block up from our house, so they would walk there, spend the evening there, and then walk home after the bar closed.

Those who would come to the house were almost always my two step cousins, one about a year older than me and his younger brother who was as old as my youngest step sister. We would also have our friends from Milford come to visit too. One my age and his younger sister who was as old as my youngest step sister, and his younger brother who was the youngest of the group. My oldest step sister would be out with one of her friends.

Me and my step sister who was my age, the step cousin and the Milford friend would be in my bedroom playing Monopoly. The youngest step sister, youngest step cousin and two younger Milford kids would be in the kitchen playing cards. We always had a good time, except for one night.

There were two windows in the kitchen, one that looked out to the driveway along the right side of the house and one that looked out to the back yard. Behind our big, fenced in back yard was a bunch of woods that we loved to play in during the day. At night we didn’t even really look at them, let alone go into them.

As we were all well into the night playing and having fun, suddenly there was a knock on my bedroom door. We opened it to find all of the kids from the kitchen standing there, shaken up and in tears. My youngest step sister was at the front of the group, in tears, and we naturally asked what was wrong.

She told us they were playing cards at the kitchen table when they heard someone pounding on the back door. They turned on the back porch light and saw a man standing at the door. They said he looked scared and he wasn’t looking at the door, he was looking towards the back of the yard, towards the woods. They then looked through the back window and saw a man coming through the gate in the fence, from the woods, and he had a long black coat on. The man was looking up at the man at our back door and he had a knife in his hand. He ran up the hill through the yard towards the man at the door, who continued to pound on the door, and just as the man in the coat got to the man on the porch they both vanished.

Scared, we went to check and nobody was in the back yard, but the back gate was open. We always left it closed, and there was no way the kids would have gone out at night into the back yard without someone older with them just to open the gate. They weren’t that brave.

We all left the house, walked down the street and hung out on the corner of our street and the one the bar sat on. The people who lived on the corner had big concrete steps that went from the sidewalk to his porch. We sat on those or stood around, barely talking, for a couple of hours when the bar closed and our parents came walking down the road. They asked us what had happened and we told them.

When we got home and checked, the gate in the fence was closed.


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