I think our house is haunted.
It started not that long ago, when Nick was in West Virginia for the LSU game. I was home alone, sitting on the couch, and kept hearing footsteps upstairs. At first I thought maybe it was the cats playing (they really throw each other around sometimes), but then it happened when I knew they were both downstairs with me. I dismissed it and didn’t have a second thought before going to bed upstairs by myself that night.
I didn’t mention it to Nick at first. But over the next several weeks, I kept hearing it! So I told him. He thinks I’m crazy. Our house and our neighbors’ are really close together and both houses are raised off the ground, so his logic is that I’m hearing the neighbors’ footsteps. Who knows. Either way, I ain’t skeered (that’s my Louisiana coming out).
My friend Cassie thinks my downstairs bathroom is haunted. I’m pretty sure she avoids peeing at my house. She says the light and shadows in there are weird and it freaks her out.
The room is really long and narrow, so I can see how it would be a little disconcerting to do your business in the middle of a fifteen foot long room. What do you think? Would you be scared to pee at my house? Or spend the night upstairs? I’m sure our little bungalow has had plenty of residents in its 90 or so years, and maybe even a death or two. Maybe someone decided to stick around. Do you believe in ghosts?
I hope you all have a wonderful Halloween! I was lucky to marry a man who despises dressing in costume as much as I do so we plan to spend the evening handing out candy to trick or treaters.