Haunted Tales of Paranormal Florida. Links to the Supernatural at its best.
Guest post by ghost hunter and Florida author, Dave Lapham
She listened to the wind rustling the leaves of the oaks, the jays squawking, the far-off chugging of a tractor working in the groves. Then she whispered, “I just wanted you all to know I’m back, back for good. I’ve retired, and I’m moving into the house—just so you know. I’ll be visiting you more often.” She stood for a few more moments then drove back to the house. Sometimes she felt silly talking to her folks and Will like that, but it was a comfort, so she wasn’t going to stop.
As she drove into the yard and got out of her car she thought she heard the front door slam and footsteps slapping across the porch. Hmm, she thought, probably my imagination, and she dismissed it from her mind.
She had just finished unloading her car when her sister-in-law, Betsy, and her three daughters-in-law pulled up. They were soon followed by a passel of grandkids and a few great grandchildren. The silence Mary had experienced when she first arrived was now replaced with happy chaos.
“Aunt Mary, we’re so glad…” “Come see my new dog, Aunt Mary.” “I hope you had a wonderful trip…” “You must be tired, poor thing…” “Aunt Mary…” “Aunt Mary…”
Mary was tired, but she was engulfed in love. The younger women took charge of things and began preparing dinner. An hour later Travis arrived with his sons and grandsons, and the noise level swelled. The women eventually served dinner, a celebration of Mary’s homecoming and also perhaps the end of the sadness and mourning over their father’s recent death.
When the last dish was washed and the last person had left the house, Mary traipsed up to her bedroom at the end of the hall overlooking the lake, happy but exhausted. She didn’t unpack, just pawed through dresser drawers until she found a nightgown, changed, and collapsed into bed.
In the middle of the night she awoke and looked at the clock on the night stand. Three a.m. She closed her eyes and lay in the stillness for a long time, but couldn’t sleep. Then she heard noise. It sounded like footsteps on the stairs. Adrenalin rushed into her veins, and her heart began pounding.
Without turning on the light, she rose up on one elbow and reached for the top drawer of her night stand. She hoped that the pistol, a little .32 caliber revolver, which her father had insisted she learn to shoot from the time she was old enough to hold it, was still there. She fumbled through the papers, magazines, and assorted odds and ends until her fingers touched cold steel. She hadn’t had a gun in her hands in years, but she picked it up now and held it snugly. She sat up in bed and aimed the pistol at the door.
Quickly, Mary slid out of bed. Walking to the door, she opened it. No one was there. She tip-toed along the hallway and down the stairs. She knew someone could still be on the second floor in one of the empty rooms, but she had no desire to prowl in and out of those bedrooms. No, she’d stay downstairs where she could run if she had to. In the kitchen she called Travis.
“What’s up, Sis? You’re awake early.”
“Trav, could you come over here?’ She explained what had happened.
“I’m on the way.”
While she waited for her brother, she checked the outside doors in the kitchen, front hallway, and the office. All were locked with dead bolts. Travis soon arrived and checked every room in the house, finding nothing.
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