Over the years I have had several ghost stories sent anonymously to me, and it's these quaint and subtle stories of hauntings that I find so fascinating, because you realize that ghosts make their presence known in the most mundane of settings, and sometimes it's only in hindsight that we realize exactly what we were experiencing. I have excluded surnames and exact addresses in order to protect the privacy of families. The following is one of those stories:
"My family owns an old home in rural Davie. The tiny home was hand-built by my great-uncle (via marriage) - a person I have never met. His name was Charles C. and he and his wife, Betty, lived there.
He was said to be a nice man and you can easily see how much he loved his home. Betty C. was an Alzheimer's victim and Charles cared for her himself. He was putting a new roof on the home one day when he felt ill and came inside to lie down. He suffered a heart attack in the tiny hallway and passed away. Betty, being in a poor state of mind, stepped over his body for two or three days before neighbors came to investigate. Having not seen Charlie, they broke down the front door and found him deceased."
"The spooky, if you can call them that, events came later. My father lived there for some time and claimed to have seen him a few times. He moved out and some time later I was preparing to move in. My husband and I came one evening to begin moving a few items in and while he was putting things in the outdoor sheds, I was bringing items into the guest bedroom. I walked through that small hallway many times and although I knew Charles had died in the house, I was not aware he had died in that hallway. As I continued to walk in and out, through the hall and past the darkened master bedroom into the smaller room, I felt "watched" and...this may sound weird, but in my head I heard someone saying "Who are you? What are you doing here?" I didn't hear anything aloud - the words just popped into my mind. I got a REALLY creepy feeling and would't go back in alone.
During our time living there, it was mostly peaceful with a few minor exceptions. Occasionally when wearing a dress, I felt someone tug at the back. Something I am told Charles did to his wife often. Another time we had a weird experience in the middle of the night...the lights in the shed had stopped working and we couldn't figure out why. Weeks passed and we ignored it, using a flashlight if need be. One night, I heard noises out in the yard and peeked out to see one shed light on, the door open and noises coming from it. I woke my husband, who grabbed our only weapon - an old bb gun - and went out to check. No one was there and we couldn't figure out how the light got on. Nor could we figure out how to turn it off - we never knew which switch would correct it and none responded. Eventually, the light just went off again. We don't get along with my uncle particularly well and we moved after two years to Tamarac, Fl. My father and sister live there once again now and haven't reported anything too odd. The idea being that Charlie knows who they are.We've never tried to get his attention, but I feel strongly that any attempt to do so would be successful. "
Stranger Than Fiction Stories by Marlene Pardo Pellicer