Our Ghostly Guests Weblog

I called April, a friend of mine, who is also a gifted psychic and psychometrist. A psychcometrist is someone who can read energy from objects, and what is a house if it’s not a large object? April used to help me a lot when I was actively doing investigations, so I knew her to be reliable and credible.

I was going to ask her if she and Wyatt would like to come over dinner. I was thinking that once they were here, she, or he, might sense what’s going on and give us their impressions. I wasn’t going to mention that there was anything “ghostly” to give impressions about. She doesn’t know I’m keeping a blog of the activity in our home either. 

Unfortunately, April has been having problems with her back, and doctors haven’t been able to determine why. I’ll have to call someone else now. The problem is that a lot of people I’ve met who think that they’re psychic, really aren’t. 

Last night Cheryl came out to the family room looking scared. She asked me if I was just by the walk-in closet off the master bath. When I told her “no,” she told me that she was looking for something in the closet when she heard “breathing” next to her. When she looked she didn’t see anyone so she rushed out to see where I was. 

I asked her to show me where she was standing, and we walked back to the closet. She was pretty close to the door, which would explain why she thought whoever was there simply walked away. She told me that when she walked out of the bathroom she saw Prince sitting on the side of the bed farthest from the bathroom staring at the wall towards the ceiling. What bothered her was that he wasn’t growling; he just sat there and stared. 

I did notice as we were going back to the bathroom that I felt a presence at the top of the stairs. “Whoa,” I said. Cheryl knows when I stop and say that, I’m feeling an entity. I walked around and it seemed to be just in that area.

“Cheryl, look at this,” I said to her holding out my arm. She could see the goose bumps up and down my arm. “It’s feeding off of my energy.” The feeling I got from it was it was just as curious as we were as to what was going on. 

Later as we were getting ready for bed, I felt the same energy by the stairs. I went down the stairs to close the door to the basement, and the energy became stronger. Just like Prince, I’m finding myself more and more reluctant to go down to the basement. “This is becoming ridiculous,” I told myself. I found myself feeling like the people I used to want to help when I was a professional paranormal investigator, not feeling comfortable in my own home. 

Last night as we were falling asleep Cheryl suddenly said, “Do you hear the man and woman talking?” I listened but couldn’t hear a thing. Of course, because of my misspent youth, my hearing isn’t what it should be. 

“What do you hear?” I asked her.

“It’s a man and a woman talking.”

“Do you hear what they’re saying?” I asked her.

“No, but the tone is one of a casual conversation.”

It reminded of how Cheryl often commented that when she was in the dunny, she would hear a man and a boy talking. At first she told me that she thought she was hearing the television. But whatever I was watching at the time didn’t have a man and a boy talking. Other times she thought she was hearing the stereo, only to find out that it wasn’t on.

One afternoon, in the middle of the day I heard a man and a boy having a “father – son talk.” I thought it was the television, then I realized that I didn’t have the television on in the family room. My next thought was I must be hearing the stereo. I remembered I didn’t have it on either. The conversation went on for as long as I was in there. When I walked out, sure enough, the television and the stereo were both off. 

Last night, when Cheryl said the “conversation” stopped, I told her that I would put out a digital recorder and see if I can record anything.