The Haunting Of Parnell House -part one-

"The Haunting Of Parnell House"

~ Part One ~

by

Janet Palaggi

Back in the 70's you were looked upon strangely for believing in ghosts.

It is good to know that society or at least a big part of the world now believe in ghosts or have had an experience themselves. I am one of those people. The woman in my family are what you would call sensitives. We pick up very easily on ghostly energies, (we are also a bit psychic, but then again most people are they just don't know it).

When I was 8, my family moved into a beautiful red brick Georgian home. It had an addition on the back that the owner built to accommodate his growing family, three girls. He went so far as to put a vanity in the girls' bedroom.
One night I had gone with my father to clean up for the move the next day. I was sitting playing with my barbies when I heard a squeaking noise coming from upstairs. I ran and told my father and we went to investigate. Upon entering the last bedroom, there in the far corner was a wheel chair! My heart was pounding and like any father trying to put his daughters nerves to rest and not wanting to scare me, said "It's probably a mouse." That did not ease my nerves as I remember trying to decide what I should be more afraid of, a mouse or a ghost? I went back to playing, he went back to cleaning, and then I saw a dark wet puddle at the foot of the stairs, again I called out to my father, he came in and said it must be rust stain or something.

So, I'm not feeling right about this house, but my mother was so happy she had found it, I did not want to spoil her happiness, besides I was not too alarmed as I had always been interested in the stories my mother and grandmother told us had happened to them, and was told I would more than likely be open to it like the rest of the woman in the family. I just did not expect it at the age of 8. That same night as we were leaving I looked back at the house and saw the light in the front room turn itself off. I told my dad but by the time he looked it was on again. We got into the car and looked again, the light went off! My father saw it that time and told me, it was probably on a timer. Only thing is I don't remember seeing any lamps or timers in any part of the house as we had not even moved in yet.

When my grandparents, who also lived with us questioned the landlord about the wheel chair, and he said it belonged to his mother Bernice, (the girls' grandmother). He went on to explain that his mother had been in a wheel chair the ladder part of her life, and not being used to it, rolled down the stairs, splitting her head open at the bottom of the stairwell, and broke her neck. She passed away in that exact spot, you guested it, right where I saw the dark stain my father had assumed was rust.
That spot had mysteriously disappeared before we moved in the next day.

 -More To Come-

©Janet Palaggi

2012