#hauntedhouse
How many days until Halloween?
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#halloween #horror #spooky #fall #scary #october #autumn #horrormovies #pumpkin #halloweencostume #cosplay #michaelmyers #art #halloweendecor #creepy #halloweenmakeup #makeup #trickortreat #horrorfan #goth #witch #disney #happyhalloween #handmade #pumpkins #everydayishalloween #hauntedhouse #spider #food #chelfrecipes (at Thessaloníki)
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Hell House: The Red Room Part 1
Hell House had three bedrooms; the master bedroom that faced the street, the back bedroom, and the little bedroom, both of which faced the woods. The front room was where my grandparents slept, the back bedroom was my mother’s, and the little bedroom, or the red room as it would come to be called, was my aunt’s. She was around 2 years old when this started.
As my Papa tells it, my little aunt started waking up in the middle of the night very regularly. She would complain that ‘the red lights’ woke her up. As I have stated before, my grandfather was a fire captain and an ex marine, so after a week or so of this he decided to sleep in the room to solve the mystery of what was waking his daughter up. She was too young to articulate what she was seeing to him other than a ‘bright red light would wake her up.’
He laid down on the floor and waited while she when to sleep. At about 1:20a (which was always the most active time in Hell House) he was woken from brief slumber by a small, bright, red orb that he said flitted in from the window that faced the woods and started darting in circles around the room.
They never denied my aunt when she wanted to sleep in their room for fear of the light in the red room. I would become all too familiar with the red room myself… But that’s for another time.
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My parents live in a haunted house
(Picture grabbed from Google street view.)
My mom moved in with her new husband in 2014, and I came along after living with s friend for a year or so. I affectionately call Hot House. My bedroom was a small room on the second floor with an angled roof, and it was constantly swelteringly hot in there, even in the winter. I moved out of Hot House twice, first in 2015 to live with my now husband and our mutual friend in our first ever apartment, and second in late 2016 after having to return home for a few months when we fell on hard times financially.
With a sordid past involving poisoned soil from a massive oil spill, arson on the property, theft, violence, and possibly even murder, Hot House is not a place I like to be. Negative energy clouds the place like a dark, warm blanket, and the ever present feeling of violence seeps into the heavy air. I tolerate it to visit my family a few times a year, but I much prefer they visit me.
I do not know the history of Hot House as well as I do Hell House, since it was not in our family until 2014. I have heard stories from my father-in-law though, since he had owned the house for many many years before we moved in. I know for a few years he allowed his brother to live there. His brother is a known hoarder and destroyed the home, a choice the home still has not recovered or been fully cleaned of. He took the house back in order to take care of us, his new family, and we have done our best to return the home to a comfortable place to live, but with rotting boards, crumbling foundations, and years of neglect piled in the dark corners, it just isn’t there.
Anyway, there is the intro for Hot House. This house is still owned by my mom and step-father.
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