I want to share the story of my haunted house as well as what you can do to cleanse your own home if you’re experiencing similar activity.

The house was built in 1941. It’s a story and a Patron Saint of Hunters Medal half with a fireplace and wood floors. Cottage-like, I would say but with 1700 square feet of usable living space. The backyard is a gem and what finally sold me on the place. The many, many times I walked through the house with the real estate agent, I never got that warm fuzzy feeling some folks get that let them know this is their home. I wonder if that should have been a clue.

The first sign all was not as it should be began not long after we moved in. My bedroom is in the upper half story and is reached by going through a smaller Saint Hubertus room at the top of the stairs. There was no door between this room and my bedroom. I would lay in bed at night and my eyes would be drawn to that black, yawning doorway. I didn’t like it. That darkness frightened me for reasons passing understanding. I rigged up a curtain. Problem solved? Not so much.

After the curtain went up, I began to experience the sensation of being watched. In my bedroom definitely, but also when I sat in the living room. There’s a small Saint Hubertus hallway behind my chair that leads to the bathroom, my son’s room, and the stairs going up to my room. I couldn’t sit for more than five minutes without looking over my shoulder at the hall. What’s worse, the sensation began to change from being watched to being stalked.

That’s when going up to bed became an ordeal. I would turn out the lights and try to sleep, but when I did so, the darkness seemed to come alive. This is hard to Saint Hubertus explain. I felt as if someone were holding their face just above mine and the closeness made it difficult to breathe. Occasionally the other side of the bed would push down or I would feel someone actually climbing into the bed. Only once was I sufficiently freaked out enough to call upon St. Michael. I remember I had the sensation of falling and not the kind you get when you’re just dozing off. It was menacing. So, in my head, I screamed for St. Michael to save me and then I was fine. I should point out that I’m not Catholic nor particularly religious.

It didn’t take long for this to make me mad. I finally said out loud to whatever was in my house to knock it off. After I spoke to it a few times, the feelings of fear and dread melted away and I no longer felt stalked or even watched. And then my son moved back in…

My son had been away for a few months. Not long Saint Hubertus after he returned, the activity you would normally associate with a “haunting” began. I was in my room getting ready for work when I heard my partner climbing the stairs. Old wood creaks in an unmistakable way and he was the only other one in the house. When the creaking stopped at the top step and he didn’t say anything, I went out to look. Nobody there. He must have gone back down…but I didn’t hear the descending creaks. I went downstairs. Nobody. I found my partner fast asleep on the futon in the basement family room.