An Old Voice
Filed Under (Paranormal) by Mysk on 08-08-2003
In one of the more frightening manifestations of a traditional haunted house, an old voice is heard “from the beyond”.
(Update August 30th 2004 - A name has been changed per request of the other person involved)
Erma. That was my friend’s step mother’s name. Sure, as a kid she sometimes seemed like a mean lady but these days I don’t think that was true. She had been a smoker and the last few years of her life were spent with an oxygen tank. That could not have been the most pleasant way to spend the day, and us two doubtfully helped.
She put up with us, and would even fix us something to eat at times. Unfortunately our thanks for this was shown in the form of using her cooking as ammunition in a food fight, and one of the times I even stuck some of the potatoes onto one of the glass doors of their display cabinet. Some thanks that was for her troubles, and of course, she had to clean it off.
We were terrors. Probably what we were worse (or best) at however was staying up well past bed time, as any proper young kids will do. In fact, most nights we would not settle down to sleep until the sun was up - or at least almost so.
I’m not quite sure what we found so funny but many nights were spent laughing at all manner of things. The stuff our imaginations dreamt up was endless. From shapes in the walls to inexplicably finding great humor in light bulbs, our imagination and sources of humor were endless.
So you can probably imagine the frustration that we caused for the two adults in the house. Sure, we tried to be as quiet as possible, it just didn’t work out that way. Inevitably, we would hear the call from the other room.
“John!”
Erma’s voice was always unmistakable as she partially breathed out and partially yelled the name. Many times the fault was my own, but he’s the one she always yelled at.
At that point we seriously tried to calm down but it was like we were intoxicated. The harder we tried to be quiet, the more apt we were to start laughing. Or, laugh harder.
Oh well. Soon enough after that, his father would come in and give us a harsh talking and things would settle down for awhile.
A few years after her death he and I were still up to our old antics. Laying in his room deep into the night, talking about this and laughing about that. His father had attempted to quiet us down by separating us into different rooms. The attempt didn’t succeed - we were quite determined to continue conversation, even if it was between rooms.
It was well passed midnight and we were trying to be quiet. Our giggles and laughter were becoming louder and louder. It wouldn’t be too much longer before we woke up his father and he came in to give us a serious talking. So, I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise when an old and unmistakable voice called out from the other room.
“John!”
This time, we were quiet. Seconds later he came into the room, white as a ghost and I know that I couldn’t have looked any better. He asked me, “Oh my God, did you hear that?”. Yes, I did, I replied as I tried to get my heart under control; or at least out of my throat.
It would be several hours before our tense whispers turned into anything resembling normal speech. It would seem that old Erma finally got us to quiet down… even if it was a few years after she had passed.