I’ve been afraid to share this experience with anyone, but I’ve finally been able to put the past behind me, and share my story, my truth. Others may not believe me, and if so, that’s okay. I don’t feel like I need to prove it to you.
I was a 17 year old female living with my little brother, 14, and my mom, 46 years old at the time. My mom was a single mother after my dad had a tragic car accident when I was about my brother’s age. She did her absolute best to take care of us, but luckily, we were pretty independent as is.
You see, I had just started my senior year of high school, and I was, once again, named cheer captain for my varsity team. My little brother, who received a full scholarship to a near-by private school, was already one of their starting wide receivers - as just a freshman. We both received great grades, of course, and I had just applied for my early acceptance to Penn State - where I always dreamed of going. Living in Ohio my entire life, anything seemed better than going to Ohio State with my entire senior class.
Overall, we were a pretty happy family.
There was one thing that no one knew; not even my little brother was told yet. My mom and dad had another daughter, when I was two years old, who passed away at the age of six months. I feel like you know where this is going… oh tragic death, scary ghost, yeah, yeah. Well, no. Not exactly, I’d say.
My mom told me when I was at the age of 14 that not only did I have a sister, but she had died in her sleep, peacefully. Nobody knew exactly how, but her organs unfortunately shut down. There wasn’t a “complete” formal autopsy, and my family donated all of her organs to nearby infants in need, only in the state of Ohio. The tragedy almost ruined my parents’ marriage, but they were able to make it through, thankfully for my brother, and I. We ended up moving to a new town about three hours north. A small, small town, I may add.
I believe my mom had only brought up all of that history to me about my sister due to her being completely depressed at the time, and most likely not in the best state of mind. She claimed she was trying to teach me a lesson, the lesson being, “you never know what will happen in your life, and how long you will get to live it with the ones you love.” This conversation happened just two weeks after our neighbor, and friend, down the street was brutally murder, and just one week after my dad had died in his car accident during his work trip in Tennessee. When my mom sat us down one Saturday afternoon to tell us the news about our dad, I was devastated. If it hadn’t been for starting high school, making friends, and joining the cheerleading squad, I’m not sure I’d still be here to this day.
Don’t worry, I’m not brushing over the “neighbor brutally murdered” part.
My neighbor’s killing was not just a random shooting or burglary, oh no, this was absolutely personal. Our neighbor down the street, now let’s call her Stacy to hide true identity, was killed by her ex-husband. Oh, I get it, sounds like the typical random ex-husband murder… uhm, a little more gruesome you could say.
Stacy and her son, Jake, 9 at the time, were living in an empty house during the month of September. Walls were bare, not a dust bunny in sight, and every single piece of furniture was gone, except their one mattress on the floor they were sleeping on that night. Stacy and her son were moving to Delaware early that morning to be closer to family. Stacy had just put a restraining order on her recently divorced husband due to cheating, drug use, and abuse. No one, not even my family, who were extremely close to them, knew they were moving.
As you can now guess, the ex-husband found out. He broke into the house he once slept in, made a child with in, and paid for. He went through the back door with his key, since Stacy never changed the locks, and stabbed Stacy, with her son laying right next to her, fifty… two… times…
Jake, traumatized, crying and screaming, grabbed his mom’s cell phone from next to the mattress, as his dad was using all of his power and strength to stab his mother until you couldn’t recognize her anymore. Jake ran into the bathroom, dialed 911, and just waited as the police arrested his dad at the steps where he was just sitting, covered in his mothers blood, head to toe.
You’d think this would have been all over the news. But the thing is, this all happened over labor day weekend. Our entire town leaves for a lake vacation; it is a complete ghost town. Also, it was the city cops who handled it, and to be frank, murder wasn’t too surprising in the city we lived next to. And as I mentioned, we lived in a very small town. We never got media coverage as is. It wasn’t until everyone got back, we had heard what happened and the stories, assumptions, and rumors lurking behind it. Jake was already gone, and no one heard a word from his point of view.
The only reason we knew some of these details was because there was actually one neighbor nearby, that was awoken by police lights, and overheard only one comment the police had said.
“I can’t believe it. That poor child seeing his own mother get stabbed 52 times. And the guy has the audacity to sit on those steps covered in blood, while that little boy was locked in the bathroom.”
So the rest of us read between the lines.
I never saw Jake again. His family in Delaware took him in, and that was the last of it. Stacy’s memory has a hold in all of our hearts, even to this day. She wasn’t only close with my family, but our entire neighborhood, and community. No one could bear the thought of buying that house, even to this day. The community always assumed it stayed haunted with Stacy’s ghost.
Well, there’s the back story of some of my more traumatic events I’ve witnessed in my life - now let’s get to why you’re actually here.
It was a cold, late September night, and my friends and I were all driving around, doing random stupid shit in our hometown, after a great football game win. We weren’t really the “drinking” type completely, mostly because our small town gossiped like crazy, so if we ever wanted to party, it always had to be at someone’s house in the town or city over. We kind of made our own fun. This included anything like games of cops and robbers, hiking the so-called “trails” we have in Ohio, bonfires, pool parties, and occasionally, the fun childhood game of using Ouija Boards. Now if you tried telling me back then, in your high school, or even middle school days, you never tried a Ouija Board, then I would have just assumed you didn’t have an imagination or seek any thrill as a kid.
Now, we all knew these Ouija Boards were fake, but we didn’t care. Halloween was right around the corner next month, and we were in the start of “spooky season”. So when my friend, Adam, realized I still had mine still left in his trunk, he ran the idea through everyone’s head in the car, and as always, we agreed.
“Let’s do it.”
We were in my neighborhood, and we were messing around with it at the park near the front entrance. Of course, it was just fun and games. I’ll admit, I moved it around some, as I’m sure Adam and the rest of the crew did as well. And then, I had a great thought… “hey guys, why don’t we go to my old neighbors house, you know, the one that got murdered?”
“Are you crazy?”
“How would we even get in?”
“I’m not so sure about it.”
But leave it to Adam, “hell yeah, let’s do it.”
I smirked. Of course Adam would be down. Me and him aren’t weren’t the closest, but we both got along, because of these crazy random things we liked to do together every once in a while.
We parked in my driveway and started walking towards Stacy’s old house. I was getting this weird sensation in my heart, but I knew it was probably just because I was scared. As we walked closer, the sharpness in my chest grew. It felt so “off” being there at night. I drove by this house every single day without feeling anything, but being outside of it, standing there, felt wrong. But it didn’t stop me. I wish it would have.
We started walking near the side of the house. They had a gated privacy fence where we were able to unlatch it, and sit right on the ground of their patio to start our fun. We sat down, and the five of us started what we have been doing for the past couple years, and asked, “are there any spirits present?”
The “planchette” it’s called, started moving as our fingertips were on top of it, and landed on “yes” as we always make it do. We followed up with “is there a message for us?” and the reply of course is “yes”. At this point, we normally ask a follow up question, but the planchette started moving. I still remember thinking, “wow, someone is being aggressive today”.
“T”
“A”
“Y”
“Tay” it spelled. My name. Now honestly, I just know it’s a joke. I laugh “Ok ‘spirit’, I’m here! Who is it?”
The planchette started moving, and by the end of the last letter, I was in shock. “Claudia” it spelled out. My face went white. All of my friends asked if that name meant anything to me. I didn’t know what to say, but for some reason, I felt like I couldn’t tell them the truth. I couldn’t tell them that Claudia was the name of my dead sister from many years ago. My dead sister, that absolutely no one in this town besides my mom and I, knew about.
“Good try guys, I don’t know anyone named Claudia,” as I pretended to laugh it off. They shrugged, and I told them I think I better get home. I had cheer practice early Saturday morning. We walked back to my house where Adam’s car was, and I mentioned I’m going to take the Ouija Board back before I forget. And that was it. My friends left. I went upstairs to my bed, and went to sleep to go on with my weekend as if nothing had ever happened.
I wish this was where the story ended.
Wednesday night rolls around, and I was up late at my desk studying for AP Chemistry, dreadful. Huge exam on Thursday, and the procrastinator I was, I hadn’t even looked at my notes until now. My desk faced my window, which gave me a slight clarity looking at the stars while I studied. It started to reach 11pm as I looked up, and Stacy’s house lights were on. I blink, and then boom, off. Must have been tired, I thought. Until, I looked up, and the exact same thing happened.
Looking back, I’m still not 100% sure what compelled me, but something in my chest, no, entire body, did. I had this desire, this amazing need, this… thing… haunting inside of me that was running through my entire body where I felt the need to grab my Ouija Board, and head back over to Stacy and Jake’s house.
As you can imagine, I started the same way. I asked for spirits, but this time nothing. I asked again, absolutely nothing. I asked one more time, and this time, it moved. My heart was racing.
Now to spare the long details as if you are reading text messages back and forth, let me give you a quick recap of the conversation between myself, and this “spirit”, who I’m confident in saying now, was my sister, Claudia.
It started with Claudia spelling her name out for me again, and this time, I know it’s not a coincidence. I asked if this is Claudia, as in my sister, and after she responded yes, I didn’t feel scared anymore. That haunting feeling turned into something else, relief. I always wanted a sister, and was devastated after my mom told me I “almost” had one. Someone to share secrets and gossip, get advice from, and be my best friend. This relieved feeling soon turned into love, as I spent hours on Stacy and Jake’s porch, talking back and forth with my little sister.
I found out, she knew everything about me. She had been watching me my entire life. We went back and forth with each other all night. She would even spell out “L, O, L” during some of the funny stories, keeping up with teenagers texting “lingo” all these years. By the time it hit 2 am, I told Claudia I had to go, but I’d be back soon.
I didn’t know when I said, “I’d be back soon”, it would turn into me spending every single night there. I would leave at 11pm when my family was asleep, and come home around 2am every single night. You can imagine how long even our short conversations could take, considering she had to spell out every single word. I stopped hanging out with my friends, I was declining with grades, and I even lost my captain status on the cheer team by the time of mid-October. My mom was concerned, but I just kept emphasizing that the idea of going to college next year was starting to dawn on me. I told her how home-sick I knew I’d get, so applying to colleges right now was adding on all this extra stress, but I told her I’d bounce back.
She believed it.
It was October 27th, the weekend of Halloween. While all my friends were at parties in the town next to us, you know where I was.
This time, Claudia had something else to tell me. Something a little more important. The truth.
Claudia told me that she could see what was coming, and that on Halloween night, I would need to be ready for anything. To have my phone on me, and my brother and mom closeby. Lock the doors, check windows constantly, and most importantly, do not sleep or leave, and keep a weapon I could find nearby.
She couldn’t tell me why or how she knew this, but up there, she had a feeling. Some kind of sensation, the same I had when I first went to talk to her.
Now this is where the “the truth” comes into play. She then proceeded to tell me how she actually died. It was not a random organ failure, it was something way worse, murder. A secret my mom didn’t even know.
Claudia told me, late at night, our dad had suffocated her while she was sleeping. My mom had gone to the bathroom in the middle of the night like normal. While my dad was laying there, Claudia being in the middle of the bed as an infant, he got his chance.
He grabbed his pillow, and killed my sister, Claudia.
I didn’t even ask follow up questions; I just grabbed the board and left. There was absolutely no way that my dad, who had to travel across the country for work, just to put a roof over our head, would have done that. The memories I had with my dad growing up were filled with father/daughter dances, watching my competitive cheer dances, and spending every holiday together. We would always wear matching Halloween outfits to gather candy around the neighborhood, even in middle school before he died. He was our dad, and he would have never done that. The love he had for my brother and I growing up, just does not add up.
I realized enough was enough, and I need to give myself space between Claudia and I.
Monday morning rolled around, and I felt refreshed. I didn’t talk to Claudia last night, and I finally was able to go to bed at a decent hour. I felt so embarrassed for spending that much time on her, and this weird relationship we formed. I went about my day like normal, catching up with friends on what they did, and realized it’s time to get my life back together if I ever wanted to get into Penn State and succeed in life.
Flashing forward to Wednesday, I had never felt better. I felt… sane. I got home from school where it was October 31st, Halloween night. Considering Halloween landed on a Wednesday this week, this was all for the kids tonight. I had already missed the fun with my friends over the weekend.
I spent the rest of the night handing out candy with my little brother and mom, until all of the kids had gone back home. I headed back upstairs and finally checked Instagram where I saw a message request from Jake, Stacy’s son, my old neighbor.
I was shocked. He must be either 12 or 13 now, and just got social media. I did babysit him before everything happened, so maybe he’s checking in, but of course my mind goes to… “oh no, he knows what I’ve been doing.”
Both were wrong.
The message read “how are you dealing with your dad?”
I was confused, how did Jake know that my dad had died in a car accident? He was only about 9 at the time and moved to Delaware the week prior.
I messaged him back. I told him that I was still so, so sorry about what happened to his mom, and while there is absolutely no way I could understand what he had gone through, I mentioned, when my dad passed shortly after, I was crushed. I told him he could talk to me whenever he needed to, and then asked, “How did you hear about my dad? Weren’t you already in Delaware?”
I got an immediate response.
“Tay, your dad is the one who killed my mom.”
It didn’t make sense.
I called Jake via Instagram immediately. And what I found out was insane.
The parts of Jake’s dad being abusive, addicted to drugs, and a cheater were all true, and Stacy and Jake were moving to Delaware. But what was left out, was that Stacy was having an affair for years, with my dad. Jake was too young to understand, and thought he was just babysitting and keeping his mom company. My dad was never going on these so-called work trips. He must have been driving to the airport, and would Uber straight back to our own neighborhood.
Stacy had enough of her husband’s decisions, and also, her own. She made a plan to get her life together for Jake, and move them back to Delaware to have a complete fresh start.
Jake told me he didn’t know how everything went down, but a rage went off in my dad, because the night before they were moving, Jake witnessed my dad, stabbing his mom, 52 times.
The crazy thing is as well, Jake’s dad had never reached out to him, he had never heard from him, and from what he believed, is most likely dead. At this point, I think we all know who the main suspect would be.
Jake revealed, my dad has been serving two life sentences in the prison about two hours from me.
I immediately freaked out and ran to my mom’s room. I was bawling, “tell me it’s not true, tell me it’s not”
Her eyes are huge, face is white, and her only response was, “you found out, didn’t you?”
I grabbed my Ouija board, and sprinted out of the house. Crying uncontrollably. I knew I had to talk to Claudia. Why didn’t she tell me the rest? Why didn’t I let her? What else could she tell me, and what was my father doing right now?
I sat down on the porch like I had many times. I called out for her. No answer, absolutely nothing. I waited for another 20 minutes there crying. There was no way I could go back home yet. Suddenly, it started moving.
“G”
“O”
“Go”, the first response. I still cannot hold my tears in. I’m begging her just to tell me what else I need to know. The neighbors probably could hear my screaming, but I could have cared less at that point if I was about to get caught. I needed answers.
It moves again.
“HE IS OUT”
Oh no, Halloween. I had forgotten. Claudia had reminded me this day was happening. I wasn’t supposed to leave my house. I had to go back and lock the doors. I was struggling to unlatch the fence. I was shaking, crying, and my heart wouldn’t stop beating out of my chest.
At this point, it was pitch black, not a single light on in anyone’s house. Until, around the street corner, I can see an upstairs light on one house. Mine.
I started to run home, and as I started to approach, there he was. Sitting on the porch. Covered in blood from head to toe. Holding one of my family’s kitchen knives I had used daily, dripping in blood.
I saw my brother through my mom’s bedroom window, crying, holding his cell phone talking to someone. He was giving me signals, where I could tell he was pleading with me to run. I heard sirens starting to approach.
“Happy Halloween, it was always our favorite”, my father said.