Hey guys… I ran across this site and figured my encounter might fit. I need to tell someone what happened before it eats me up inside. Seeing the kinds of experiences posted on this site, I thought, why not you all.
Where to start? Okay, so I recently bought a house. It was one of those “right place, right time” deals; I was already looking for a place when the ad popped up. It’s 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms on 1 acre of land. Based on the photos, the property was in rough shape, but nothing really structurally wrong with the place. The extent of the damage appeared to be a few holes in the walls, light fixtures half done, and stained carpet. Did I mention it was on the market for only $75,000? I was ready to buy it sight unseen for that price, but in reality, I called up the selling agent and asked for a showing.
The next thing I knew, we were walking through the property, and I was receiving a run down on structural improvements. It was a cute house with only one neighbor next door; a similarly built house with a massive privacy fence encasing the whole backyard. Motioning toward it, I remember asking the realtor, “Aren’t there usually limits on how high a privacy fence can go? Between the wood fence and the foliage behind it, the thing must reach 15 or 20 feet high.”
Where she’d previously been chipper and business-like, her eyes quickly darted towards the fence and then away. I saw her body visibly stiffen. “Well, yes,” she said, “generally, there are restrictions in most towns. Based on this paperwork, 5 years ago, Mr. Carver petitioned the board to have them removed.” And that was all she said, nothing more, just took my arm and steered me away from looking at the fence, pointing out the rose bushes planted in the backyard of the house we were looking at.
The house had potential. I didn’t know why it was still on the market, and I didn’t care. I wanted it and was prepared to make an offer above the asking price by the end of the tour. Turns out, I didn’t need to.
Just as we were done with the tour and walking back to our cars, a ringing sounded. It was the realtors’ phone. I remember her looking at the screen absent-minded, then stiffening and saying, “I apologize, this is important,” before answering.
I couldn’t hear anything besides her side of the conversation, which was brief and consisted only of:
“Yes, I showed it.” “We haven’t discussed that yet.” “Of course, I didn’t bring that up.” “No worries, everything looks to be in order.” “Are you sure?” “Apologies, I understand.”
And then the call ended. The realtor looked uneasy with her eyes closed as if she were trying to compose herself. Or maybe I imagined it because the next second, she was cheerful again, remarking, “Excellent news! That was the sellers, and they actually came down on the asking price. Today is your lucky day! They are switching the sale over to an auction, it appears. No minimum bid, blind bidding. If you’re interested in this house, all I’ll need from you is a minimum bid and a maximum bid. There will be zero coercion on the seller’s part. You’ll be free to bid as high or low as you choose. After five days, the bidding will close, and the highest price sent in wins the place. How EXCITING!”
There’s always a catch. I knew the $75,000 price tag was too low, and apparently, so did the sellers. Of course, I had wanted to get the place for a steal, but after everything else looked so bad for so much, I might as well test my luck, I figured. No harm in trying.
And that is how I ended up paying $20,000 for my new house. Shocking, I know. Unbelievable, if it hadn’t happened to me, I’d say the same thing. But it did. I put in a minimum bid of $20,000 with a maximum bid of $150,000. 5 days later, I was signing papers acknowledging I’d won the bid and accepted the property of my own free will. No one else had even entered a single entry.
Yes, in hindsight, it was weird. Looking back, all sorts of bells were ringing, and lights were flashing, but, at the time, I figured I was the luckiest person on the planet. Now though, I know better.
Everything pushed through easy enough. Within 30 days, I was not only the new owner; I was already fixing the place up and making the interior look brand new. There was a lot I could do since I hadn’t needed to spend much for the actual house. This allowed me to fix the walls, redo all the flooring, change the pipes and plumbing, and finally rewire the electrical.
And so, there I was, finally moved in and spending my first night in my new home. I didn’t even get a single night to myself before it started.
At 3 am on the dot, the screaming began. It lasted precisely 10 seconds before ending.
A light sleeper, I was naturally brought wide awake by the sound. My first thought was that it was a joke. I didn’t know why someone would play a joke on me like that, but the fact that the screaming stopped almost just as soon as it started was just plain weird. Who does that, and at 3am? It had to be a joke, so I put it out of my mind and went back to sleep.
The next night it happened again. At 3am, I’m woken up to a scream lasting precisely 10 seconds.
And again the following night. Screams. 3am. 10 seconds.
By the fourth night, I set my alarm for 2:50am so I could be prepared if it happened again. Wide awake this time, I stopped and paid attention to what I was hearing. Yes, it was a scream; but who was screaming? After multiple nights I couldn’t be positive, but I was pretty sure it had to be a male scream. And what’s more, I felt like the screaming was being cut off rather than just tapering off after 10 seconds. Some nights it seemed more abrupt than others.
Logic dictated that the only male that could be screaming was my new neighbor, Mr. Carver. He appeared to keep to himself and rarely left his home. Because of this, I had little to base my opinion on other than his proximity to my house. Maybe, I thought, this was all a “welcome to the neighborhood” prank. Surely he will get tired of this eventually, right?
I was wrong.
Weeks went by, all the same, never changing. Some nights I could almost start to sleep through the screams. Other nights my curiosity had me up half the night, mind racing, trying to figure out what was going on over there. After two months, I was determined to go over to Mr. Carver’s house and ask what his problem was. Ask him to please stop.
So I did.
I waited until a time when I saw his car in his driveway and walked over. Let’s just say I didn’t exactly get the answer I was looking for.
After stepping onto his porch and knocking on the door, I didn’t have to wait long before I heard one, two, then three locks coming undone and the door creak open. At first, he stood behind the door, utterly silent. Nervous, I choked and said nothing; I merely stared back for what felt like minutes. The tension was thick, neither of us speaking before I eventually heard a sigh, then, “Can I help you?”
I had yet to see a close look at Mr. Carver’s face and could only guess his age to be older than myself. Hearing his voice for the first time, even with his face in the shadows, I could imagine him to be an older gentleman.
His words broke the nervous spell I was under and caused me to utter a small laugh. “H-hi, I’m Jamie. I just moved in next door two months ago and thought I would come over to say hi.” Yes, terribly generic, I know, but it wasn’t like I could just walk up and demand, “why are you screaming out in the middle of the night” now could I?
He kept the door mostly shut, which meant I had nothing to form my impression except his voice. It sounded angry and annoyed to my ears and gave the impression he wanted to be anywhere besides in front of me.
Opening the door just a crack more, he responded, “Congratulations, do you want a medal? What does that have to do with me?” His words were harsh and cruel, said with a hint of a sneer. I was instantly on edge. How dare this man be so rude.
I tried again. “No, no medal. I merely figured it might be nice to get to know each other a little. By appearances, you’ve lived here a long time, and I appreciate that. I don’t want to be a neighbor who has lived next to you for years and never spoken. So, this is me saying hi.”
Behind the door, I heard a humph and then a loud sigh. Mr. Carver said nothing in response. Standing on the porch, I could tell I was wearing on his patience. This feeling of unwelcomeness made me antsy. I just wanted to find a way to ask about the screams. He was NOT making it easy.
“L-l-look,” I stuttered, “I’m sorry for bothering you… I was just trying to be friendly bu-,” he cut me off.
“No. No, you weren’t just trying to be friendly. You’re nosy. Just like the guy who lived next door before you, the people before him, and the ones before them.” He sounded almost angry as he spat this at me before continuing, “you’re right; I have lived here a long time. Longer than you by far, and no, I don’t want to be friends. So leave me and my property alone if you know what’s good for you.” The door opened a little more before he said menacingly, “Don’t mess where you don’t belong. Make the right choices, leave me alone, and perhaps you’ll live in your nice new house for more than a year or two. Do you understand?”
I’ll freely admit, I didn’t know what to say to that. Was my neighbor threatening me? I couldn’t be sure, but I did know I wasn’t going to stand around and be yelled at. So I left. I didn’t press him any further and left.
Maybe I should have? I don’t know for sure. Ultimately, I just nodded, turned around, and walked home. The only sound to follow was him shutting the door again with a distinct click, then one, two, three locks sliding into place.
That night, the screams lasted 11 seconds. They’ve lasted 11 seconds each night for the last 2 weeks.
I know he warned me, but my sleep is now nonexistent. I feel like I’m slowly going crazy. Because of this, I’ve decided to buy some cameras and try to see into his backyard. I need to know what’s going on. I can’t explain it, but it’s almost like these screams are pulling me in, setting my nerves on edge, even during the day.
He’s just a silly older gentleman; what could be on the other side of that fence that he doesn’t want anyone to see?