Hell and Back

In 1971 my parents bought a house in Syracuse, NY. My family was the first to live in this house that were not of the house’s bloodline. After my parents paid fully for the house they obtained the deed. In it were the names of the entire family that had lived there prior to us, dating back to 1832. I think that the original family is still there.

Among many things that happened to us (doors opening and closing, someone walking up and down the stairs every night) I have see the good and the bad of these spirits.

When I was 11 years old I finally got my own room. Being the youngest of four this was a very big deal to me…like a right of passage. I was placed in the smallest room of the house. But I loved it, until that night.

I woke up at 4:12 am and I heard the most horrible noise. It was like someone being tortured. I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. I ended up down stairs on the couch. The next night I tried again. And again at 4:12 am I was up. This went on for about two years before I got sick. I found out when I was 14 that I had a very serious case of psoriasis. It may not sound bad but even the doctor I had (and I had many) said that that they had never seen anything like it. This problem made me look like a monster. I was head to toe in it. There were very large patches on my face and back, they were painful. Also it only took a total of three weeks for it to start and grow. I didn’t leave the house for months thinking that I looked like a burn victim. I stayed in my room though and every night at 4:12 am I got woken up by the horrible noise.

My parents got very worried by my behavior and they wanted to seek help for me. I just wanted to get to a library and find out what was in my room.

So it came to me one day to look at the deed. It seems that a young girl about my age was burned, almost to death in my room in 1892. (I obtained this information by the family of the previous owners.) The young girl was in the care of her aunts at the time. They fixed the room after the fire and hid her there like a dirty secret. The girl lived there in that one room for ten years before she committed suicide.

I wasn’t ready to wait ten years for it to stop. But as it turns out I didn’t have to. One night I sat up all night. I just wanted to talk to her and see if I could help. Obviously a girl like that didn’t have many friends and now either did I. I knew that she had something to do with me being like that. I needed answers. 4:12 am came and the screaming started like clockwork. I locked my door and left a note for my parents that whatever they hear they were NOT allowed to open the door. I heard her scream and I started to scream with her. Suddenly she stopped. But I kept screaming. I began to beg her to help me and told her that I know how she feels. I stopped screaming and cried the rest of the night.

The following morning I returned once again to my doctor. He noticed that the marks on my back were fading and that a very large mark on my forehead had gotten smaller and lost some of it’s color. Within three months my skin was as clear as it was before the screaming started.

The noises at 4:12 am stopped. I never heard them again. Maybe this is just in my head but I believe that if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have gotten those marks and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t have lost them. She did save my life, my fate was close to what hers was. Taking my life wouldn’t have been a problem for me then…I had no life to live.

There is only one other thing that was strange about this story. When I looked at the deed I found the girls name, Sarah. The same as mine.

Do you think that this is possible? I no longer live in the house and have no problems with psoriasis. I am happily married and have a beautiful little girl. Sometimes at night I do wake up at 4:12 am but this time I feel more of a sense of peace than hurt. I don’t hear screaming but it is just a feeling that Sarah is finally at rest.


This entry was posted on Monday, September 12th, 2011 at 10:28 pm and is filed under True Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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