LighterThanSmiles

Growing up in a haunted farm house with loads of history. There was bound to be something and of course it always happened to me. However as I continue to tell my story, I've come to learn that I wasn't the only one.

My sister hated sleeping in the living room. Any time we would fall asleep due to a late night movie. She would wake up no matter what time it was and drag me from the couch to go upstairs with her. No matter how much I groaned or fussed about it. However, I knew deep down. She was scared of something. But at a young age and dealing with my own experiences. Including lack of sleep because of it. I was tired of her waking me and honestly. I felt more comfortable sleeping downstairs than I did in our room. While I suffered from feeling things heavy on my chest, or the bed dipping beside me. I would also have the most bizarre dreams. As if I was looking through someone else's. Or I've had dreams where I was walking through my house, except it was cloudy all around me and dark. So yes, I was tired. Ever had such an active dream that made you feel like you didn't sleep a wink. I did 90 percent of the time.

Hi, I love to write stories and I hope you enjoy reading them. I write just about anything that can make the reader smile. But I also dabble in ghost stories and dark romance!

My Experiences

I lived in an old farm house, surrounded by woods and an Indian reserve sat behind it. An old neighbor of mine had told me that it dates back to the 1800's-1900's. She used to come over and play with any of the families that lived in my house. She also had told me that it used to house soldiers in it as well. There was a cemetery, 3 miles from my house. It was a small cemetery with a lot of the local family names and some were ones that used to live in my house. So of course my home had a lot of history behind it.

My family and I moved there when I was 3 years old. My mom told me, 12 years later that I used to sit at the kitchen table and color. Nothing abnormal. Except that when I would proudly show my picture, I would show it to whoever was sitting beside me. When no one was there. My mom would always ask who I was showing the drawings to and I would tell her simply. "My friend, right here" and I would point with my crayon. From there, she knew I was gifted. However, in my teenage years. I considered it a curse.