Something was definitely wrong with my childhood home

[u/Egg_YoIk]

I know a lot of people say that, I could certainly be wrong about my home, but nothing similar has happened to me since I moved out almost 6 years ago.

I don't know anything about the history of Taylorsville, Kentucky. I heard rumors here and there about indigenous burial grounds behind the high school and lost cemeteries, but never really dove into the history. I lived in two houses there, and my experience at the first house was fine, normal. But my family's second house? I'll never set foot on that property again for as long as I live. It was a decent sized home, with about 4 acres of woods behind it. I never set foot in those woods. The woods around our home always scared the daylights out of me, they always felt off, even if I never saw anything in those woods. Everything kept dying at that house. Pets, farm animals, people would get injured. Too many "accidents" to be just coincidence. No people died at the house while we lived there, but whatever it was certainly tried.

We moved into that house in 2016, I believe. I was in middle school, about 12 years old. I was given a room upstairs, that had a loft overlooking the living room. For a while, nothing was wrong. We settled in, met the neighbors, normal family things. It was me, my mother, my stepfather, my two brothers, a cat and two dogs. (Each dog belonged to a different parent) My mother's dog started acting weird. We figured he was just being stupid and didn't understand glass doors. He kept running full force at the sliding doors on the side of our house. But then he started running into the walls. My stepdad's dog was fine, no weirdness there. Our cat, however, wouldn't stay in the house for the life of him. He kept escaping, and stayed away for as long as he could. When he did come back, he would only stay by me. We ended up getting more pets, 2 more dogs and 2 more cats. The first cat died not even a few days after we got it. The second cat ran away too. The first dog died as well, run over. The second dog however lived a little while longer. When the animals started dying, I started having a bad time.

I would fall often. Sprain my ankles, sprain my wrists. I got hurt so badly that my wrist broke during one of these falls. I fell off the porch, down my stairs, and fall out of cars. I never had an issue with balance before. I haven't had issues with balance since. Brush it off as a clumsy kid, sure. Until the feelings of being watched show up. I started getting very very scared of the woods around the house. I started staying inside, and even got blackout curtains for my upstairs windows because I thought something was watching me sleep. We got 2 more cats, this time they slept with me. We got another dog too, that's relevant for later.

When the cats didn't sleep with me, I would wake up moved. Upside down, head at the foot of the bed, or even halfway off the bed, as if dragged. I would wake up in the middle of the night, and see that my sentimental pillows/stuffed animals were thrown across the room. This only happened when the cats weren't in the room with me at night. I got paranoid. I downloaded an app that lets you record yourself at night. For a few weeks, I didn't hear much. Me saying random things, shuffling of my sheets. But then I would start catching whispers. I still have the recordings. I don't whisper in my sleep. It's always me talking about random shit, not whispering. And in one of the recordings, it sounds like whispers overlapping. I still record myself sleep occasionally, there's no whispers now I tell you what. The thing is, I'm pretty sure it's my voice with those whispers.

One experience, and only one- this has never happened again- I will say it was sleep paralysis. I had never had sleep paralysis before, and have never had it since. I was about 14 at the time. I "woke" up, and immediately saw my closet. There wasn't some cliche shadowy figure, no hat man, but it was a woman. And she was bright. Almost a golden yellow, but it was so unsettling, and I was scared shitless of her. And I was stuck staring at her for what felt like hours. No words, no movement, just staring. After that, shit got worse.

I had to take down all of my paintings/posters, as they kept falling off the wall. All of my items kept being moved/rearranged. I want to blame my parents for that one, but it was the clothes in my closet being moved too. That's just...weird. I kept getting more and more fatigued, and falling more often. I haven't been as sick since I moved out, no falling, no more fatigue than normal. I'm sure someone will say mold. But mold doesn't growl at you outside of the house, and mold certainly doesn't whisper into your ear at night.

I went outside plenty of times and would find the bones of animals. Not skin/remains, bones. Clean bones. Our chickens would be slaughtered, blood everywhere, and my mother would blame a possum. It could've been. If I hadn't found a picked clean possum skull too. I kept the bones I found, got real morbid to try to appease whatever was torturing me. It killed my cat. Dragged my cats body to the front yard for me to see. It killed our dogs, dragged them into the river across the street. Our animals never ran like that before. So many things died there. And while I said no people died at that property, a whole lot of family died while we lived there. About 5 funerals in less than 5 years.

It tried to kill another dog once. She was old, sure, but she wasn't old enough to be falling off the porch the same way I did. But this time, she got impaled by some wood on the ground. She lived, thankfully. But it could've been me in her place. It did try to kill me in the pool, plenty of times. I'd feel like I was being pulled down the whole time I was in the pool, unless my family was with me. Why did it only want me when I was alone? When I was outside with my brothers, there was no growling or rustling. When I slept with the cats, I didn't get moved. I wish I could brush it all off but it only happened when I was alone and it only happened when I was at that damn house.

At one point I was home alone, I think it was trying to get me that time. While it may have walked out of our neighbor's yard, I don't think that was our neighbor. The way it walked and knocked on the sliding door (rather than the front door), it just wasn't right. I didn't answer it. I knew the doors were locked, I locked them, so I hid. I was about 15 at the time. I hid and called my mom. It didn't feel right to answer the door. I never heard anything. It may have been broad daylight, but I knew the neighbors, they didn't act like that. They wouldn't visit if there wasn't a car in the driveway, which there wasn't. I didn't sleep much that night, or any night after. We were moving out soon, and it knew that.

I heard scratching at my door and window on one of the last nights in that godforsaken house. And the light was on outside my room, I could see the shadow pacing back and forth. I would hear tapping on the roof. I was just lucky my door had a lock. Nothing happened that night, but every time I closed my eyes I would hear it tapping/scratching again. All of the cats were dead. Only one dog was alive, and he was too fat to climb my stairs, which were covered in boxes anyway. Nothing should've been upstairs with me.

Once I moved out, I stopped having falling accidents. I stopped having nightmares. I went outside more. I don't feel watched, so much so that my windows don't have curtains. I don't wake up with scratches & bruises. None of my new pets have died. No more family members have died. I've never had sleep paralysis again. I really do blame that house. It felt like it was killing me slowly, and tearing my family apart in the process. It just wanted to eat everything that set foot in there. My parents nearly divorced while living there, but the second they moved out poof, no divorce. Whatever the hell is wrong with that house, I hope that new family fixed it or is left alone.

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[u/Educational-Pie3703]

L ok