I was always skeptical of those who believed in paranormal activity. In fact, I always thought the idea of ghosts and hauntings were just a thing to make a good horror movie. But, they always say that seeing is believing.
I have always been the type of person who stays up late to watch horror movies with the lights turned out. I mean, you have to set the mood, right? Typically, I prefer to watch them alone because I like to try and figure out what’s going to happen without other people’s ideas flying around. Whether the movie is based upon a true story or something made up in Hollywood, they would never scare me. In fact, I could fall right to sleep without thinking twice about the exorcist I just saw. But, all of this changed my junior year of college.
For my junior year, I moved into off-campus housing with three of my girlfriends. On move-in day, we found mail in the mailbox addressed to Donna and Bob Smith (fake names for the sake of privacy). Being college students, we just threw the mail in the trash without thinking twice. I mean, it was just junk mail anyway.
The house was a winner. We picked it out ourselves and couldn’t wait to start making memories in our new college home. One of the added values of the house was that it had a killer basement where we could do our laundry.
The first time I went into the basement to wash my clothes, I noticed that the cement floor looked like it had patches. As if part of the floor had been dug up and cemented back over. Being the curious college kid, I went over to the patch and noticed that someone engraved “Donna and Bob forever” into the cement. My roommates and I had joked around saying we hope we don’t find out someone died in the house and was buried in the basement floor.
Four months had gone by when things in the house started to get strange. One night, I was home alone with one of my roommates watching TV in the living room. All of a sudden, we heard footsteps that sounded like they were coming from upstairs. I mean, the house is pretty old with creaky wooden floors. So, we just assumed it was our neighbors. But, then the footsteps got louder as if they were right above us.
We started to freak out. I mean, who wouldn’t? So, we called our neighbor and asked for him to come over to check it out. He came right over and even went into the attic to make sure nothing was there. The whole time we was in the house, the footsteps stopped. Naturally. About 10 minutes after he left, the footsteps came back for another 5 minutes and then disappeared. At this point, you’re probably thinking, GET-OUT.
In the spring, we decided to do a little redecorating. When we originally moved in, we had put a futon in the attic for storage. What a perfect addition to the living room, right? So, my roommate and I went up into the attic. The first thing we noticed? Male sized footprints all across the dusty wooden floor.
No one had gone up to the attic since our neighbor came over to check on the footsteps sound for us. I mean, who would go into an attic barefoot? What-the-heck.
The next morning, my roommate woke up and found her cabinet toppled over onto its side in the middle of the room. The cabinet had all kinds of things on the shelves which were mostly made out of glass. Not one of us heard a sound during the night and none of the glass items were broken. The only damage in the room was that the door knob was dented… from the outside.
A few weeks later, my roommate moved to another bedroom. I mean, not because she was terrified (okay, maybe a little), but because new girls were moving in for senior year. We dusted the room, mopped the floor and closed the door so it was ready for the new girl.
The next morning, I went down the hall and found the door to that bedroom wide open. But that wasn’t it. Dusty footprints went from the attic door, across the floor, into the hallway and back around.
When my roommate walked into her new room later that night, she felt a cold breeze fill the air. All of the sudden, a white ghost like figure zoomed by her and quickly disappeared. She tried to quickly turn on the light, but as she did, the light blew out. For whatever reason, this thing didn’t like my roommate moving around the house.
One night, my mom came up to help us move some stuff out of the house. She was upstairs cleaning the floor in my roommates bedroom and heard a phone ring. Now, this wasn’t a modern day cell phone kind of ring. I’m talking about one of those old fashioned rotary dial house phones kind of rings. Being my mom, she thought nothing of it and went to bed after she was done cleaning. She woke up around 4:00AM to go to the bathroom and as soon as she turned the light on, she heard the same exact ring. And get this… our house has NO landline and neither does the woman next door!
Going by my beloved horror movie plot lines, we decided to do some research on the house. I mean, how cool would it be to prove we were living in an actual haunted house? The only information we had to go off of were the names of Donna and Bob Smith from the engraving on the basement floor.
We took it to Google and searched their names and our address. We couldn’t find any information on the couple. However, found a name associated with our address, a Miss Heather Smith. I searched Facebook and was able to find THE Heather Smith I was looking for. I decided to message her to see if she’d answer me, or report me to the authorities thinking I was totally crazy. To my surprise, she actually got back to me and helped me form my theory about who haunts our house.
Heather Smith is the daughter of Donna and Bob Smith. They used to live in my house as a family back in the day. Her bedroom was my roommates original room connected to the attic. She told me that the man who lived on the other side of the house was named Al and was apparently obsessed with her. He had even asked her out on dates, but given the fact that she had a boyfriend, she always declined. He was never rude to her, but she could tell he was disappointed.
Out of nowhere, Al committed suicide in his living room. Heather said no one really knew the reason he did it, and she never wanted to think it was because of her. Her family ended up moving out shortly after it happened. From what she knows, the house had been vacant for years until our landlord bought it and we moved in.
Did I mention my roommate’s name is Heather? How weird is it that she occupied the same bedroom as Heather Smith and all of the strange things that happened in the house only involved her?
Here’s my theory…
Al’s spirit never really left. After he died, he remained living in the attic of 516 waiting for his beloved Heather to return. He got attached to my roommate when she moved in thinking she was his Heather. Al only made us aware of his presence when Heather would do anything that involved moving. Why? Because he thought he’d lose her again.
Is 516 haunted? Maybe. Did this all freak me out and change my mind about paranormal activity? Oh, most definitely.
Do you believe in paranormal activity? Have you ever experienced anything similar? Comment below!