Episode #2 – Deer Park? More Like Fear Park!

We hear a chilling story of a haunted house in Deer Park from Lindsay and share our thoughts. Be sure to subscribe –here– or in your favorite podcast app so you don’t miss a thing!

Lindsay writes:

once lived in a house….a very old house that had it’s normal creaking and popping sounds. I never thought anything of it until my brother came over on a random day. That’s when it all began…..

The normal creaks and pops became louder. They became closer. They became constant.
My brother one day asked, “Does this house have a significant history? You know…did someone die in this house?” I asked him why and he only said, “I don’t know. This house kind of freaks me out. I just feel like it’s haunted or something.”
I wanted to ignore the fact that those noises were much louder, closer and constant. But since he mentioned that…out loud….I think whatever it was in my house noticed that I as well, was freaked out.

One night, I was alone watching television. I heard a huge boom in the basement. That basement was your typical unfinished, old, smelly basement that you see in scary movies. But this basement wasn’t scary to me at all. It actually ended up feeling like the safest place in the house. You will understand as my story unfolds.
I went downstairs to see what this loud boom was. It was a shelf of old paint that finally fell off of the wall. I laughed it off and I went back upstairs and finished watching my show. When the show was over I looked at my 2 dogs and told them it was time for bed. We went upstairs and I crawled under the sheets. As soon as my eyes started closing and I drifted off to sleep, another loud boom happened. However this loud boom was not from the basement…it was right above my head….in the attic…where I have never stepped foot in.  I thought for a split second that it was a dream, but when I came out of my short sleep, my 2 dogs were looking up at the ceiling growling…then barking…then they got up on all fours at the same time. I turned on the lamp. The hair on their back was standing straight up. They were both looking up…but not just up….they were looking at one spot on the ceiling.
It took me a while to fall back asleep that night. I did not hear anymore noises. No creaks, no popping…nothing until one year later when I was pregnant with my first son.

I told my husband about the strange noise the next day. He laughed it off which I expected. But I know what I heard. My dogs know what they heard.

My son was about 4 months old. He had a funny toy that my parents got him that was an alligator with a small container that popped small, plastic balls in the air when you turned it on. Super exciting toy for a baby. When I turned the switch to “on” it made a laughing noise before the balls went flying up in the air all over the floor.

One night, I was getting ready for bed in the upstairs bathroom. My son was sound asleep. My husband was at work. Suddenly, I heard this noise. It was a laughing noise that sounded just like that toy. I walked down the steps. The toy was on the floor by the tv…exactly how I had left it…but the balls were not inside the toy. They were scattered all over the floor. The switch was turned on. I knew I turned that switch off. I remember turning it off thinking, “the batteries this thing takes are too expensive.” I know my 4 month old didn’t turn it on…I know my dogs didn’t turn it on…Who turned it on??  I finished my nightly routine of teeth brushing, face washing, etc. I got into bed. At the foot of my bed there was an old woman. A small, old woman with white hair. White hair that was braided and draped over each shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t walk. She didn’t move her hands. She just stood there at the foot of my bed. The only thing that moved was her mouth. She smiled. She smiled at me. Then within a matter of seconds, she was gone. I wasn’t scared. It was almost a peaceful smile. I got up to check around the house. First stop was my sons room next door. He looked so peaceful. I looked around on the main floor. No sign of her. I never saw her again.

Again, I told my husband. At this point he probably was considering a therapist for me.
But one night would completely change his outlook on this……

We had a small, old bedroom closet that you could crawl through that would lead you into my sons room. It was pretty cool. But the sound that happened once in this closet made me want to lock it up forever.

We were sound asleep. A noise woke me up. Not a popping noise…not a creaking noise…but a scratching noise. A scratching noise that was coming from the closet…right next to my husband. When I flipped over to see what it was, my husband was sitting straight up in bed…staring at the closet. He didn’t want to appear frightened. But I knew he was. The moon was so bright that night. The light was coming right through the window. I remember the look on his face. Eyes wide open. He didn’t blink. He was sitting straight up with one hand on top of the cover as if he was preparing to rip the cover off of him…almost like he was in attack mode. I didn’t move. The scratching noise didn’t stop. It consistently stayed in that closet. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Usually my husband would get up to check out a noise. But this time he didn’t. He just sat there…waiting. The noise finally stopped. He laid back down, turned over, and tried to fall back asleep. We never heard the noise again.

The next morning I asked my husband what that noise was. He said it was probably a rat. If he knew it was a rat, he would’ve gone to the store to get traps. But he never did. He just kept telling himself, and kept telling me, it was just a rat.

Days, weeks, months went by. No sounds. No booms. No toys turning on. My brother came over again. I never mentioned any of the noises to him. But I could still tell that when he was there, he felt uncomfortable. He told me he even felt uncomfortable when he had to come over to let her dogs out if we were out of town. He told me he heard noises. Like someone was walking around. Like someone was going up and down the stairs. Something made him feel very uncertain in that house.

We wanted to expand our family. We knew it was time to move. Despite all of the strange things that happened in that house, it was very hard to pack up. I didn’t want to leave but I knew we had to move into a bigger house.

The last night in that house, I decided to talk. I decided to talk to the spirit that was in my house. I told it that we were leaving and that I hope it finds peace. I told it that I will never forget it’s form of communication. I told it that I felt sorry for it. I told it that it was ok to cross over.

When I went to bed that night, I heard a door shut. I don’t know which door it was. There were only 2 possibilities. The front door or the back door. I believe that was the spirits way of telling me it has left. That it has crossed over. I slept so peacefully that night.

Time has passed. We were settled in our new house. This house had no noises. No creaks, no pops…just silence. It has stayed that way for 6 years.

We found out that the young man that purchased the old house was a friend of a friend. I contacted his friend to ask her to ask this young man if he has heard any noises in that house. Well….he did. He didn’t get into details, but he has heard noises. Maybe it’s just because it’s an old house. Or maybe the spirit still resides.

There had been a couple of people that approached us while we were doing yard work while living in that old house. The house was on a busy street so everyone saw us. When the two people approached us, they told us they used to live in this house. Each one of them said that they really miss the house. We also said and still talk about how much we miss that house. I believe the spirit was trying to comfort everyone. It didn’t do it the way you or I would comfort someone. But maybe making creepy sounds was the only way she could communicate. I now say “she”…..not “it”…. because I know there is a small, old woman with white braids draped over her shoulders that watches over that house. And that is comforting to me.

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