Spooky Images to Spark the Imagination

As a horror lover, I'm fascinated by the idea of ghosts coexisting with us. The shadow I just caught moving on my peripheral vision, was it my imagination? A ghost maybe? That unnatural sound that echoed through the house at midnight, the dog barking when no one's around... During my teenage years my answer to every one of those questions would've been a ghost.

These days my desire to experience a paranormal event is nonexistent, but my interest in them hasn't decreased. Videos and pictures hold a special place in my heart. A few hours of indulging can leave me hiding under my bed in fetal position. But I'm no fool, I know some of those--too many--are fakes. A few times, though, the evidence shines with the possibility of truth.

I've visited several reputedly haunted places, only once in the company of ghost hunters, yet I have never managed to capture a ghostly image, nor I have been there when someone else does. Maybe someday I will. I hope not. For a horror writer, I'm quite a scaredy-cat.

Here I share with you my favorite pictures, the ones that gave me shivers; maybe tonight I'll have nightmares. No big monsters here, nor blood or gore. It is subtlety that makes these pics so unnerving.

This is a picture of a burning building. The girl you see there supposedly died in it. 

I don't really know the story behind this, but it is the image I'll remember the next time I go camping. *shivers*

A car accident on the Philippines where several people died. This picture was reputedly taken by one of the witnesses and only later the 'thing' under the bridge was discovered. A demon?

This one doesn't need a backstory. It's freaky as hell no matter what.

And this is why I won't get into a coffin until I actually need one.

So, what do you think? If you have a ghostly experience of your own or a pic that has troubled you some, please share. In the meantime, have sweet dreams!

Haunted Manhattan: Washington Square Park

This time in the Haunted Manhattan series, we'll talk about a very non-creepy place and I'll do my best to ruin it forever for you. So, I'll considered a job well done if the next time you wander into a tranquil park considering where to have your picnic, you settle for a bench.

Washington Square Park came into existence in the 1820s; but before that, the land was used to entomb the yellow fever victims of the 1700s outbreak. Yep, more than 20,000 corpses still lie under the lush lawn where visitors gather to catch the sun. Digest that.

And now that you have decided to sit on the benches from now on, let me proceed with the story.

The area where the famed parked is now located has always been well liked, and 19th century New Yorkers came to watch people die. Oh yes, you read that right. Back in the 1820s, today's hot spot in popular Greenwich Village was a public gallows and execution site. And you can never be sure which trees they used...

And just because there is no better place to build a gathering site for the well-to-do than a Potter's field-turned-public-gallows, in 1826 the city leveled the ground and laid the square, turning it into the Washington Military Parade Ground. Only four years later, the streets surrounding the square became some of the most desirable areas to live (How could they not!), and the rest is history...

So, yeah, I'd think twice before telling my friends I just want to "hang" in the park.


Sweet dreams, my friends!

Haunted Manhattan: The Dakota Building

Located on the northwest corner of 72nd Street and Central Park West in New York City, The Dakota Building is a well-fixed image of the Manhattan landscape. It is ingrained in our minds as the place where John Lennon exhaled his last breath. However, the building has a very long, haunting past that goes back to the very beginnings of the city. 

It was commissioned in 1881 by Edward Clark, head of the Singer Sewing Machine Company. Its architecture has a bit of German Gothic, a lot of French Renaissance, and of course, a whiff of English Victorian. As the story goes, back in 1884 when the building opened its doors as an apartment co-op, the Upper West Side of Manhattan was as sparsely populated as the Dakota Territories, hence the name. In 1976, it was declared a National Historical Landmark.

The first reports of strangely apparitions came from a troop of painters in the 1960s and since then two main figures have been consistently seen in the premises. The first, and gentler spirit, is that of a girl dressed in turn of the century garb. She's usually smiling or playing with a rubber ball, then she disappears into thin air or walks into closed closets to never be seen again.

The second, and more violent apparition, is that of Mr. Clark himself. One of the porters reported being attacked by this ghost on the building's basement. He was thrown a shovel and several heavy objects. When the terrified man called a tenant for help, a piece of metal flew into the air toward the men.

There have been reports of a ghostly chandelier alight in one of the third floor apartments, and a worker was trapped inside a closet while doing reparations to Judy Holliday's appartment. When he found his way off the ladder he had been using, he tried to turn on the light. No luck there, so he went for the closet door... and felt a cold hand grabbing his arm. I'll go out on a limb here and say he never set foot inside the building again.

Then of course, is the story of John Lennon. I must confess that after all my wanderings about, of all the supposedly real ghost pictures I've seen, the one picture that makes me break in goosebumps doesn't even have a supernatural element to it. It is this picture, where Lennon is giving an autograph to Mark David Chapman mere hours before the crazy bastard shot Lennon at the entrance of the building. Seriously creepy...

John Lennon's ghost has been reported, too, despite the fact that a group of spiritualists tried guiding his soul to rest in peace at Yoko's request.

Finally, there are the many twisted coincidences that surround the filming of Rosemary's Baby. The film, directed by Roman Polanski, used the exteriors of the Dakota as well as limited interior locations. After its release in 1968, Krzysztof Komeda, who had worked on the movie soundtrack, died of a brain clot. The same way a supporting character died within the movie. Also, at the exact same time, William Castle, the movie producer, was admitted to the same hospital for renal problems. While being treated he yelled "Rosemary, for God's sake drop that knife!" Afterwards he would swear the movie was curse.

But for all the possible spooky coincidences, here's a truly mind-boggling one: Roman Polanski (married to Sharon Tate) shot Rosemary's Baby (A story about a pregnant woman besieged by a satanic cult) in the Dakota building. A few months after the movie's release, Charles Manson and his cult followers broke into Sharon Tate's house and murdered five people two weeks before her due date. They followed this heinous act with the murder of two more people, the following night. They called this rampage "Helter Skelter" after a The Beatles song. John Lennon was a member of The Beatles that would come to live at the Dakota several years later, where he would be murdered by Mark David Chapman.

Haunted Manhattan: The House of Death

I thought opening the series with The House of Death was quite appropriate because of several factors. First, this is a private residence, therefore, there's no one to interview or anywhere to eat/drink to see what happens. Just a picture from the outside and a lot of stories to tell. Also because among the ghosts that purportedly inhabit the place is Mark Twain. Why would be that of any importance, you ask? Well, last night I attended Stephen King's event promoting Joyride at the Mark Twain house in Hartford. Expect a post about that experience coming soon, but in the meantime, I really felt like that was too sweet a coincidence to let it pass.

On the subject, now. The history of number 14 of West 10th Street in Greenwich Village, better known as the House of Death, is one of both mystique and horror that stretches for over 150 years. Built on the late 1850s, the mansion was home to a long list of the who-is-who of the day. Outstanding figures, such as the founder of the Metropolitan Underground Railroad and Broadway Underground Railroad, James Boorman Johnston; famous writer, Mark Twain; and the president of the North American Company, Charles W. Wetmore. 

In 1933, the house was sold to a company that quickly turned it to a ten apartment complex. By then, stories of ghostly apparitions were quietly shared among residents of the building. It was until 1957, when writer Jan Bryant Bartell moved in, that the haunting became famous. Her experiences in her apartment of the second floor would give place to the book SPINDRIFT: SPRAY FROM A MYSTIC SEA, published in 1974. In it, she recounts her many experiences in the house during the 15 years she lived there. Among the most memorable are her accounts of seeing a woman wearing a Victorian dress, and the apparition of a child. Perhaps more eerie is her story of a withered grape, constantly materializing in the center of a plate, even when no grapes were bought for weeks.

Not paranormal, but more horrifying is the story of Lisa Steinberg's death. In the morning hours of November 2, 1987, police came in the building answering a call about a child 'not breathing'. What they found in the apartment of 14 West 10th Street rocked the city to its core. Six year old Elizabeth, Lisa, Steinberg was found unconscious lying on the floor of the bathroom. An 18 month old baby boy was also found in the house, tied to his playpen with a rope to his waist. Severely beaten and neglected, Lisa slipped into a coma and later died. Lisa's adoptive mother, editor and writer of children books Hedda Nussbaum, told a story of unspeakable abuse at the hands of Joel Steinberg. Hedda, herself had several broken ribs, a shattered nose and cheekbones, and life-threatening lesions to her legs. After the first-ever televised trial, Joel Steinberg was found guilty of manslaughter. He spent 15 years in prison and was recently released. 

Many attribute the name of House of Death to this single incident. However the case, to this day, residents of the complex report hearing strange noises, seeing an elegant, ethereal lady traversing walls, and there are a few sightings of Mark Twain on the staircase. When a woman resident asked him who he was, he answered: "My name is Clemens, and I has a problem here I gotta settle."

Legend says 22 unnamed people died in the house, among them a murder/suicide in the 1900s, which isn't an incredibly high number when one considers the scores of people that have lived in it. There's also the fact that many of its residents were famous Victorians and Edwardians who customarily received medical care in-home, rather than attending hospitals.

This city landmark is not only beautiful, but steep in history. I recommend to everyone strolling through the city to pay it a visit.

Pet Project: Haunted Manhattan

For this summer, and since I've been a bad blogger lately, I decided to try something new. I looked for something that involved my passion for ghost stories but took me out of the house, into new interesting investigations. I also thought that you deserved a little extra entertaining stories. So, giving that I live so close to the Big Apple, I decided to go search for the best known haunted locations in the city. I mean, how many can there be, right?

Can you say sucker?

Turnes out Manhattan has more than thirty buildings with a well spread reputation on the creepy side. Only Manhattan! Forget about Queens and Brooklyn.

Writing for a living here, remember? Not exactly the wealth generator one would think. And don't even get me started on my 'free time.'

So, where to go? I needed to cut the list to about four places max. Which took me to the realization that I'm completely incompetent when it comes to taking decisions. And come to think of it, I want you guys to enjoy this series, therefore, I'd love to know what YOU think. So here's the deal. I'll leave you here with a list of some of the places I found. All of them have interesting backstories and are of easy access to me. I'll go to those places that receive the most votes. (If no one votes, I'm visiting each one of you and leaving a voodoo doll under your beds. So, that.)

Just have in mind that I'm no paranormal researcher. I will not be carrying out EVP's, filming, or interviwing. I'll simply go into the place, have a bite/drink where possible, take pictures, and get the hell out of there. Okay, maybe I'll ask the bartender for his phone number if he's cute. But that's it. I'll also research what the ghost stories are, and what the actual history of the place is. Fine, I'll ask people working there if they have had any experiences. Happy, now?

Now, please vote here:



This is the first time I use pinopinion, so please, should you find any trouble voting, simply do it by commenting. I'll also try to add a voting site on my facebook page, which you all have already liked, right? If not, follow the link on the side bar to the right.

I'll keep the voting going for a week or two, depending on how many people vote, but my first post will be here next week. I'll tell you all about the famous House of Death near 5th ave. Catchy name, huh?

Take care, enjoy the weekend, and get a tan!

Inherently Weird. The puzzling Past of a Horror Writer

I've been attracted to death, ghostly visitors, and paranormal stories for as long as I can remember. Where does this fascination come, I have no idea, but while other kids played on their bikes or read funny comics, I was obsessed with witchcraft and read scary stories. The only way to entice me to read was to dangle in front of me stories of the sort, and so my mom introduced me to A CHRISTMAS CARROL and ghostly mystery stories for kids. 

Yeah, I know, I was weird. But before all that, my most distant memory and the way I was possibly introduced to the concept of horror was through a series of nightmares. I must have been about seven and had experienced nightmares before. This, however, was a totally different thing. Now, I know what you'll say, but my parents were not divorcing, I had no reason to feel stressed, and people didn't talk about horror themes with any of us children around. So no, there was no reason for my "Nightmare Attack."

It was only one nightmare, but it besieged me for eight months. It always started with me sitting alone in a small boat, drifting through a calm river. The water was so crystalline I could see colorful rocks on the bottom and the landscape was beautiful. But I was afraid, didn't know why, just simply afraid. Without any apparent reason, the water started to turn red, little by little until it was all the color of blood. I looked around for the cause and realized that at the bottom of the river laid severed hands. Completely terrorized, I jumped out of the boat and swam to land, running like crazy until I was facing a hill. I climbed it only to find a Roman soldier on the top that confronted me with a spear, threatening to kill me. The floor was littered with corpses and I knew I could not escape. Then I woke up, screaming and crying. Every night.

You can imagine that after a month, my mother could no longer dismiss the nightmares and became really worried. I don't remember much of what she told to me or the different remedies that we tried. All I know is that about six months in, she started to pray with me every night. The more we did, the calmer I felt when going to sleep, and the more the nightmares drifted away. Until one day, there were nightmares no more.

Now, I'm not saying it was prayer that took them away, at least not per se. I think it was the positive images and reassuring words that finally got to me. What intrigues me really is their origin and why then I became so intrigued by the unearthly. It is a passion that has always tugged on me, sometimes as a positive influence like in my writing, sometimes in a very negative way... but that is material for another post.

So, is it truly genetics all that pushes us? What amazing experiences shape us in all different ways and what brings them in the first place? Do you have one such amazing influence in your life? I can't wait to hear about it.

Enjoy your weekend!

About Hospitals and Ghosts

Many of you know I was Physician back in Mexico and that I stopped because I didn't want to miss my kids' childhood. I dedicated my time solely to my two girls for four years and once they were a bit more independent, I started this trip of becoming an author three years ago. Still, I spent most of my youth between the white walls of hospitals and I remember those years fondly. It all felt like an adventure to me. I mean, learning insurmountably big books was not, as it wasn't dealing with somebody else's pain. But there was a lot of fooling around, too, because when you are twenty and sleep-deprived, trapping your friends inside the morgue's freezer sounds like a great idea.

Anyway, when we weren't hiding around to scare one another, we were talking. Most of it was about boys, girls, or sex, but sometimes we would tell ghost stories we had heard. And sometimes ghost stories happened to us.

The way it worked in my school, every six months or so the university would put us in a different hospital. In each one, we would do a rotation through every service during the day, but we would only work the night shift in the services that were the period's main subject like OBGYN, Surgery, ER. You get my drift. This story happened when I was about half-way through my surgery rotation.

Now, hospitals are inherently creepy. People suffer and die in them, so there's never a shortage of scary stories among the staff. Besides, what can be more fun that scare the crap out of the new student, right? So, anyway. In this particular hospital rumor said Basement 1, where all the surgery rooms were located, was haunted. The identity of the ghost varied greatly from a patient who had died thanks to the incompetence of his doctor, to Death itself who came looking for the souls of the recently deceased patients (the morgue was in Basement 2, beneath the surgery floor).

And like idiots that we were, we wanted to see. So, one night that work was low we decided to go into one of the surgery rooms, sit there, and chat until something happened or morning came. Something happened alright, and it wasn't the morning.

I was sitting on a chair, my boyfriend at the time next to me, and on top of the surgical table were my best friend and her boyfriend. We had been sitting there for quite a while and the conversation drifted to the plans for a weekend getaway, so no ghosts were in our mind at this particular hour. My friends sitting on the table were facing the only entrance which was closed (it's impossible to keep a surgery room open because the swinging doors are designed to always close). Each of the folding doors had a square window on top through which they could see the empty hall. It was then that, out of the blue, a person passed by. He did not walk along the hallway toward our room but side to side. Only problem was, our room was the last one of the hall. To our sides were only walls.

Needless to say, my friends cried bloody murder and we all jumped to our feet, confused and scared. Then, to my left, the Mayo Table (an aluminum table used to set the surgical instruments) spun on its little plastic wheels with force.

We all yelled and I didn't stop running until I saw the night sky out of the ER. We talked about it many times, trying to find a logical explanation but there wasn't one. It couldn't have been a joke because no one could get to our room without being seen walking down the hall, because no one--living, that is--can walk through walls, and because none of us moved that table. It was one of the scariest things ever and the following three months I spent in that hospital, I avoided the surgical floor like the plague.

Funnily enough, two years ago I found a video taken in the same hospital where something similar happened a couple of students. In the video they are on the hallway, talking and making jokes. The boy filming with his phone is facing the doors to the last surgery room, where we were that night. I don't know the people in the video and I don't know if they faked it, but it resounds so much with my own experience that I decided to add it to the post. Hope you enjoy being scared =)

Have an awesome weekend!

Most Famous Haunted Houses

As a great introduction to wednesday's official kick off of the Coffin Hop 2012, I decided to set the mood with ghost stories of the real kind. Is there anything better than a real haunted house for Halloween? Well, here I put together a few of the most famous, but you have to promise to be back and check out my Coffin Hop giveaway! There are books to be given and plenty scary stories to be told. Don't miss it!! Now, back to our regularly scheduled program...

The world of the death is truly one that intrigues us. Through time, there is no other question that has bothered us more than what happens after we're gone. Generation after generation, fear of the unknown, curiosity, and grieve have tangled a convoluted web resulting in ghost sightings and haunted houses that plague us to this date. Of course no one can absolutely refute every sighting, every picture, every story, and that's how the afterworld has engrained itself on our brains with the most tantalizing stories.

It is in this spirit that I present here a list of ten of the most haunted houses in the US. Weather you believe their stories or not is entirely up to you. As for me, I always found Marquise du Deffand's posture to be an intelligent one. As she famously said, "Do I believe in ghosts? No, but I'm still afraid of them."

The Sorrel-Weed House

Located in Savannah, Georgia, the Sorrel-Weed House was formerly owned by G. Moxley Sorrel, a brigadier general for the Confederacy during the Civil War. After Sorrel left for Virginia, the house was bought by Henry D. Weed, hence the peculiar name the house bears today. The present owners of the house report hearing voices, clinking of glassware, music, and many others sounds associated to a party that can never be found when investigated. There are also reports of war sounds, like soldiers marching and guns being fired, but the most famous resident ghosts are those of two women who died in the property under very distressing circumstances. Mr. Sorrel was found having an affair with one of the slaves, Molly, upsetting Mrs. Sorrel so much that she jumped to her death from the second floor porch. Just two weeks later, Molly's body was found hanging from the neck in the carriage house. Suicide or murder? The jury is still out there, as are the tortured souls of both women.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sorrel_Weed_House

The Moore House

In 1912, the quaint and booming town of Villisca, Iowa was shook to its core when the brutal murder of eight people occurred during the night without attracting the attention of any of the neighbors. On the morning of June 10, 1912, Mary Peckham realized his neighbors, the well-respected Moore Family, hadn't started their day as usual. Worried, Mrs. Peckham decided to go check on them. When no one answered the door, she tried peaking through the windows, but it was too dark. She then tried opening the door but found it to be closed from the inside. Finally, a few hours later Mrs. Peckham decided to call Mr. Moore's brother, who came in and opened the door with his own set of keys, finding everyone in the house dead. J.B. and Sarah Moore, along with their four kids and the two daughters of a friend who had been invited to spend the night there, had been slaughter beyond recognition with an axe. The murders were never solved and remain surrounded by mystery to this day. The sounds of children voices, objects moving without reason, and sightings of a dark, menacing shadow said to be that of the killer are a common occurrence in the residence.

http://www.prairieghosts.com/villisca.html

The Landon House 

Originally constructed in 1754 on the banks of the Rappahannock River in Virginia, the Landon house was dismantled in 1840 and moved to its present location in Urbana, Maryland. Its rich history tells us of the many roles it has served through time. First used as an academy for girls, transformed into a military school short time afterward, and finally serving as a military hospital during the civil war, it is its present reputation that brings it to this list. There have been reports of all kinds of paranormal activity in the house, from heavy feelings to apparitions of dead Civil War soldiers. Care to stop by for tea?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landon_House

The McRaven House

Located in Vicksburg, Mississipi, it was originally built in 1797 and changed hands a few times in ordinary circumstances. However, it is in 1849 under John H. Bobb's ownership that the McRaven House is at the center of a tragic situation that would determine its fate as a haunted location. The house served as a Civil War Hospital during the siege of Vicksburg and withstood severe damage by gun and cannon fire. Bobb was so angry that he attacked a sergeant with a brink, who ordered him arrested, taken to the back of the house, and shot. His ghost, as those of fallen soldiers are said to roam the house.

http://www.mcraventourhome.com/Ghosts.asp

The Amitiville Horror House 

This one, we all know. The infamous house on 112 Ocean Ave. in Amitiville, NY is undoubtedly one of the most famous and controversial haunted houses in America. It all began when in 1974 Ronald DeFeo slaughtered his whole family, consisting of both parents and four siblings. After a year of abandonment, the Lutz's bought the house and lived in it for twenty-eight days. Windows opening and closing, telephones ringing in the middle of the night, black goo coming out of facets and walls, and the sightings of a pig with red eyes are among the many experiences reported by the Lutz's. The also infamous couple, Lorraine and Ed Warren were involved in the following investigation and supposedly got rid of the ghosts, reason why the current family lives there happily. Except for the hordes of morbid tourists showing at their doors, that is.

http://www.amityvillefiles.com/haunting/

The Riddle House

West Palm Beach, Florida may not be the first location to come to mind when you think about ghosts, but it has a thing or two to scare the pants out of you. Take The Riddle House for example. Built as a gatekeeper's cottage for cemetery workers keeping an eye out for grave-robbers, the paranormal activity surrounding this house scared its former resident, Karl Riddle, out of the house. It all seems to be centered around the death of a previous worker who killed himself in the attic.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Riddle_House

The Hanna House 

Built in 1858, this Indianapolis, Indiana mansion was utilized as a passage for the Underground Railroad. One eventful evening, a group of slaves fell asleep on the straw-covered basement never to wake up again. While the group slept, an oil lantern was accidentally turned over, setting the basement ablaze. After the fact, and in order to keep his involvement in the Underground Railroad a secret, Alexander Hanna buried the human remains in the basement. There have sightings of ghostly black males, the sounds of hushed up conversations in the basement, chandeliers swinging with no apparent reason, and sad laments that echo through the house.

http://thehannahmansion.org

Ashmore State

Is there anything creepier than an abandoned insane asylum? Ashmore State in Illinois is a 'living' prove that our fascination for the macabre can never be quenched. The fact that the decaying building isn't open to the public hasn't stopped paranormal investigators from documenting the hordes of ghosts reputedly residing there. From 1916 to 1956, the building housed indigents and people with mental disabilities. More that two hundred death were reported and from 1956 to 1976 it housed the "mentally impaired." The building remained in use until 1987 when it closed due to lack of funding. Many stories about residents that refuse to move out of the building circulate, but there have also been exposés where a group claims to have invented a ghost with a story to go and afterwards read claims of people seeing said ghost. Still, real or not, abandoned insane asylums have number one of my list of scariest places to ever be trapped...

http://www.ashmoreestates.net/history.html

LaLaurie House 

Known as the most haunted house of the French Quarter in New Orleans, the LaLaurie horror history is not one for the faint of heart. In 1832 Delphine LaLaurie, a woman of high prominence in European society, decided to buy a second house in New Orleans that she managed herself. Soon the family gained fame as one of great wealth and education, and it was considered an honor to be invited to one of the lavish parties the LaLaurie's gave. Though rumors ran rampant of the mistreatment of saves by Madame LaLaurie, it all came to a head on April 10, 1984 when firefighters attending a call on the residence uncovered a grisly family secret. Inside a secret room in the attic, many bodies in different state of mutilation but still alive were discovered. Nobody knows for sure just how many slaves died at the hands of the cruel Madame, but the bones of at least two more bodies, one of them a child, were found centuries later during a renovation, and a neighbor witnessed a fourteen-year-old girl jump to her death from the ceiling with Delphine, whip in hand, in hot pursue. Apparitions of black males with chains on their necks that become violent, cries and screams of pain breaking the silence of night, unseeing hands pushing people off balconies or stairs are all common occurrences.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delphine_LaLaurie

Well, there you have. Hope you've come across a couple of stories that you didn't know before and that will keep you awake tonight. Happy Halloween y'all!!

Creepfest Mystery Game, Part 5

I’m going to step off from the trend here and write a non-fiction story for a change. This is a personal experience that happened to me and my family on Christmas Eve a whole lot of years ago, when I was just a kid. 

Now, remember the Mystery Game is still going strong. We're up to the fifth clue! For those of you who've just got here, don't worry, there's still time. The name of a thriller/suspense book made into a movie is hidden within this story, you have to guess who the author is and let me know on the 23rd. The winner gets a copy of John Saul's House of Reckoning! So, here we go.

My mother comes from a very large immediate family, nine brothers and sisters. Family events where never small, but as the brothers and sisters got married and had their own children, family gatherings became a thing to be reckoned.

My grandfather’s birthday was December 24th and even though he died when all his ten kids were very young, it became sort of a tradition that the whole gang would reunite and celebrate both anniversaries together (Jesus’ and my grandpa’s, of course).

I have five older cousins and, by then, seven younger ones. We're all one year apart or two at the most, so growing up there was always someone to raise hell with; Christmas time was always a blast. Now, I can’t remember my exact age or the year this happened, but I couldn’t be older than nine or ten; my grandma had passed away a few years ago but the family still used her house for this kind of reunions. It is an old house that was falling to pieces even back then, but the state it is in nowadays, ugh, you should see it. It is crumbling down like The House of Usher, and it has always been as eerie as the literary one.

But back to that night. We, the kids, were running all over the place because it was dark already and cold outside. The women were in the kitchen, setting everything ready for the big dinner, and the men were conversing and laughing in the living room. As dinner time came closer, most of the kids began to flock to the kitchen, a few helping set the table, others snatching food away so they wouldn't have to stop playing. You can imagine the craziness of it all, mothers screaming at the children to behave, fathers laughing loudly and making jokes, and everybody hungry. Above that huge racket we all heard like somebody with a cane hitting hard on the floor of the second floor.

After three or four hits, the party came to a stand still. The grown ups were looking into each other faces, trying to figure out what was going on. Of course, first everyone thought it was one of the kids making a stupid joke, but we were all within reach. So scratch that. Then we realized one of my uncles wasn’t among us.

“It’s probably Luis, trying to quiet us down. He must be sleeping.” My mom whispered.

“Luis! Stop being a Grinch and come down to have dinner with us,” added one of my younger aunts who we call Diana. There was no answer.

I was kind of scared just based on the fact that the house in itself was creepy, but add strange noises to that, and I was ready to eat my Christmas dinner on the car.

The strong thumps on the upper floor had stopped and we were about to just leave it be, when the echo of steps commenced. It was as if a big man were walking up and down the hallways to the bedrooms. My aunt Diana, who was in no mood to let a joke scare her, moved to the bottom of the stairs and yelled louder.

“I’m serious. Dinner will get cold and the kids haven’t eaten a thing!” The steps continued with the same rhythm as before, apparently not paying attention to my aunt’s angry shouts.

“That does it,” said my uncle Victor, climbing the stairs.

“Don’t worry, Vic. Let him rest, he’ll come down when he’s hungry!” said my dad, not too keen on witnessing a brotherly fight. The rest of the adults tried to defuse the situation by pretending to go back to their previous activities.

When my uncle Victor got to the point were the stairs turned to the left and he had a clear view of the upstairs, the sounds stopped.

“There’s no one here!” he said, calling out his brother’s name for good measure. “Luis! Quit it! Where the heck are you hiding?”

I, for one, always ready to jump on the paranormal train, went to the back of the kitchen, where a door led to the backyard. It was open but the lights were out, and being too much of a coward, I just yelled from there, “Uncle Luis! Where are you?”

That started a frenzy of kids yelling my uncle’s name, looking for him everywhere, from under the couch, to out in the street. All the yelling lasted but a mere minute, since my uncle Luis entered the house from the backyard door, making me jump out of my skin in the process.

“I’m here, just having a smoke. What the hell is all this racket for?” He had quite a puzzled looked.

My aunt Diana was right next to him in a second, and my uncle Victor ran down the stairs when he heard his voice. They were about to open their mouths and ask a million questions, when the echo of heavy steps walking back and forth restarted.

Everyone went silent again; I'm also sure my first white hair grew right then and there. The brothers and sisters looked at each other and suddenly, something clicked in their minds. A look of understanding shone in their eyes and the tension in the air lifted. My mom gave my sister and me a hug, as did my uncles and aunts to my cousins.

“Let’s eat, ok everyone?” Said my mother.

“But, what happened?” I asked intrigued.

“Nothing honey, it’s the neighbors. Don’t pay attention to it.”

The younger kids were satisfied with the explanation, but the older ones, like me, spent the whole night sneaking glances at the stairs and whispering amongst us about our crazy theories.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Eventually, we went back to play, and the grown ups spent the night laughing and being all around merry. When midnight stroke, the family began the customary round of hugs. From upstairs the steps became a joyful laughter and then, the sounds of a woman and a man conversing in whispers. My aunt Diana cried a little.

“Why are you crying aunty? Aren’t you happy?” I said, voicing the question in every pair of young eyes.

“It is my father, honey. The Intruder?" she said pointing to the upstairs, "He's your grandpa.”

I didn't dare go upstairs alone ever again, but that Christmas brought us indeed one special gift.

THE END

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