Hallowen Booktacular: with author Nely Cab
Oct •
25 •
2011
The House on Elda Drive
When I was five years old, my parents constructed a house in a newly developed subdivision. There were very few houses in the neighborhood, being as it was so new. The lots were barren of greenery. Dreariness seemed to be the theme there. We moved in and everything was great, aside from the lack of color and the loose, grey soil that surrounded our new home.
One morning my mother blamed my father for leaving the front door wide-open after arriving home from work. My father argued that he had not done so. My mother was unconvinced.
As the nights passed, the occurrence repeated. My parents made sure that the door was securely closed every night, but somehow by morning the heavy, brown door would be open. My father blamed it on a poor knob and installed an extra lock. By morning, the door was again ajar.
Eventually, whomever or whatever was responsible for opening the door desisted from doing so. We thought that was the end of it, but we were wrong.
While watching television and engaged in other kid activities with my two cousins who had moved in with us, we heard a car come to a stop in front of the house. We distinctly heard the aluminum gate open and close and the sound of footsteps approaching the front door. There came a loud knock, and we opened the door to find no one. This became a common happening, and to it we soon grew accustomed.
One night as I lay awake in bed, I heard footsteps in the hallway. My bedroom door was open, and I could clearly see there was no one there. The footsteps entered my room, and stopped at my bed. I quickly turned to the left, facing the wall and pulled the covers over my head. I felt coldness and an eerie presence that literally stiffened my body with fear. With my eyes shut and afraid to move, I felt a hand touch and grip the side of my back. I jumped and turned to see who it was. No one. I raced to my parents’ room, where they were fast asleep and decided to sleep on the floor. The perturbing feeling of being watched never became normal to me. From that moment, I understood that we were not alone.
Over the next few months, I overheard my parents’ accounts of their seeing a man in the hallway dressed in black after hearing footsteps. In the years following, our house was blessed on several occasions to no avail. The hair-raising activity continued.
When we would have guests, they would tell of their experiences during the night, not being privy to the occurrences we had already lived. They would tell of how the rocking chair in the living room swayed on its own all night; how the covers were repeatedly pulled off them while they tried to sleep; how the footsteps would not cease; how the bed shook more than once, waking them.
A few years later, came the day that my parents decided it was time to move.
My mother was in the kitchen cooking, while my cousins and me were busy doing homework in our room. Suddenly, we felt the house tremble for more than five seconds. An earthquake in South Texas was unlikely and we all ran to my mother to see if she had felt the same thing. We found that the kitchen cabinets had pulled off the wall, and when we inspected the rest of the house, it had moved 2 inches off the cinder blocks it was set on.
After trying to come up with a feasible explanation, we called the neighbors to see if they had felt the tremble. They said they hadn’t felt a thing. Several weeks later, the house was put up for sale and we moved.
Today, if you ask my mother, she’ll tell you the house was new and the sounds we heard were where the house was settling. She won’t tell of the nights that she saw the man dressed in black walking in the hallway, and that my father too saw him. She won’t tell of the boy that leaned on the fence and watched her wash the dishes through the kitchen window, then disappeared. She won’t tell of the night we all woke from the sound of the dishes being washed and found the kitchen empty. As for me, I can tell you that the experiences I lived at the house on Elda Drive were real enough, and I have a list of witnesses to prove it.
Thank you Ms. Cab for being here today! That is a spooky story!
And now for a giveaway!
I have two copies of her book Creatura up for grabs!
When seventeen year-old Isis Martin is having trouble sleeping due to perturbing dreams of a horrific growling beast, she decides to confront her fear. But what Isis discovers is something other than a menacing entity.
The human-like creature offers Isis assurance that he is not a figment of her imagination. Unwilling to accept his avowal, Isis sets his words to contest by asking the entity to prove himself – a dare, he readily welcomes.
It is in her dreams that Isis innocently stumbles upon the silent existence of the divine lineage of those that man has long forgotten.
In a quaint town, deep in south Texas, this story leads Isis onto the path of impermissible love and captivating life-changing truths. Isis Martin’s journey is sure to leave any reader ravenous for more.
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Happy Reading!
6 Comments
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That is a pretty creepy story. I wouldn’t have wanted to live there thats for sure! But I love hearing these, especially right around Halloween =)
Great post! Thank you for the giveaway!
Okay, that story was scary! I couldn’t finish it because I am home alone and started to get freaked out!
Yikes! That’s crazy! I have no idea what I’d do if I lived in a haunted house. *shivers*
Oh I love this story. It is so true that adults often refuse to believe what is happening. In my case it was so I wouldn’t be terrified. LOL
If reading it was scary, you should’ve tried living there! o.O Thanks for reading guys!
-Nely Cab, Author of Creatura