Kingston Ghosts: Is The House Alive Or Just Haunted?

Location: Kingston, Ontario, Canada

The following report was sent into our website by Arabella on Aug 15, 2012:

“I’m not sure if this qualifies, but when I was little, my family consisting of my mother, my father, my sister, and myself moved from a house in the “country” to a house in a township. I was about 2 years old at the time, my sister about 6 months. When I was old enough to speak, I’m not sure exactly at what age that was, I had the urge to name my house “Violet”. I have since called the house, which I have lived in for the past years of my life, since we moved, and have become very attached to it, and won’t let my parents sell it or knock it down or whatever would mean taking it from me. Back to my point…

When I was 13, my sister started to go to a church her friends went to, and enjoyed it very much. Every Wednesday night, from about 6, 6:30 to 8pm, my mother (and my father if he wasn’t working nights) took her and I was allowed to stay home by myself. For the first few weeks, I had a friend of mine, Maddie, come over and we’d hang out and watch movies and jump on my trampoline. And when my parents got home, we’d take her home. In the summer, or odd days when the Thursday following was a PA day, she would stay overnight.

I found as I got into the 8th grade, I liked be alone in my house a lot more. So, I started to stay home by myself. The first few times, uneventful. But, then one night, my mom asked me to put some stuff down in the basement (which is fully furnished and perfectly pleasant to be in). My hands were full, and I was going to hit the lights for the rec room with my elbow so I wouldn’t walk into anything, they just came on. I stood still for a fraction of a second, nodded to myself, and said, “Thanks, Vi.” I put the stuff away, and as I reached for the lights again, they just turned themselves off. Again, I nodded to myself, said, “Thanks, Vi” and went back upstairs to watch TV, thinking nothing of it. Of course I didn’t tell my parents or sister.

Now, everything that happens, happens when it’s me, and me alone. My house is not old, like some of the other ones in the stories I read, not Victorian, not over 100 years old. When I moved in, it was no older than 4 years old, and was going on about 20 when this stuff happened, and it’s been happening since I was little, too.

I was scared of the dark. When the power went out, the one thing that would stay on was my night light, and you couldn’t turn on another thing in the house, lamps, fans, that kind of stuff. It was the only thing my parents ever saw.

Now, back to when I was 14. When I was there alone, lights would randomly come on in the dark, like the house was trying to draw my attention back there. Usually for a good reason, too. My dogs wanting out or in, reminding me of something I was asked to do, etc. The TV would come on when I was else where or away from the remote of the TV itself, about the time a show I’d planned on watching was about to begin. I also have a pausable TV, and it’d pause on its own, too. The radio would come on, tune in to my favorite station specifically. The dryer and washer will come on, and when the cycle(s) are finished, they won’t do anything until a new load was in, though this happened only once, as did the dish washer, and I’d thought at the time my mother had put it on a timer, but she said she hadn’t when I’d asked her. When she asked why I wanted to know, I just said I THOUGHT I heard it, but since she hadn’t, I didn’t. And I most certainly did, I have sensitive hearing, and the dish washer is quite loud anyways. Chairs DON’T move, it seems to be things that are connected into the house itself. Computers, TVs, lights, doors, and radios. I assume it’s my house.

My house has adored me since the moment I entered it, and I’m not the only in my family that EVERYTHING in the house works for. No, it’s not that my parents or sister don’t know how to use it, it’s just that it doesn’t co operate with them. But ask it to do something for me, and BAM! It works perfectly. So, it adores me, and I it.

Now, do these things make my house itself possessed by a ghost? Or is my house, my Violet, simply aware?”

Submit your true ghost story here