I ain’t afraid of no ghosts By David Bowling We all grow up watching scary movies about people who move into haunted houses.  The first thing that always popped in to my mind was why are you still there?  Leave! But that was before I became a homeowner.  Imagine working your whole life to own a home and trying to live the American dream, would you leave all that behind because of a few strange noises?  This is a choice I had to make. I bought my house from an elderly woman who was renting it to her friend.  Her friend’s husband was the typical old school US Marine.  Chain smoking, cussing, tough as nails, fear no one!  However, when I met him as they were moving out and I was moving in, he revealed something very interesting.  One of the bedrooms was dead bolted shut.  Nothing in it, not used, just locked shut with a huge deadbolt.  Of course what I wanted to know was what’s up with that room?  He looked me dead in the eye and said “leave it alone”.  Now this isn’t a guy you’d expect to be afraid of anything, much less ghosts.  The house was in pretty bad shape and all the door knobs needed replaced.  I wasn’t about to leave a stupid deadbolt that didn’t match the rest of the new ones.  I put a regular door knob and eventually started putting stuff in the room.  Still single at the time I didn’t need the space, just wanted to fix it up along with the rest of the house. I must have pisssed off somebody or something big time!  Each night between two and four AM the noise was unbearable.  Mumbling voices that you couldn’t understand, but it was easy to tell they weren’t happy.  By the third night I was growing more tired and frustrated than scared.  I walked into the room and started screaming.  THIS IS MY HOUSE AND I’M NOT LEAVING.  I’LL GET A FUCKING EXCORSIST IN HERE.  THIS IS MY HOUSE DO YOU UNDERSTAND!  I turned to walk out and just as I exited the room the door slammed shut behind me.  This went on for a few more days, sometimes they’d hold the door so tight I could barely get it open, then later slam it shut.  The mumbling was so loud I had trouble sleeping.  To this day I’m surprised I had the fortitude to stick this out, but as I said, I had worked my whole life to own a home and be a part of the American dream, I wasn’t walking away without a fight. I finally got around to looking in the attic.  It was packed with two truckloads of junk.  An old typewriter, magazines, trophies, and artifacts from the forties and fifties.  I gave it all to a friend who’s a collector.  I had a weird feeling lying in bed that night.  I finally realized what it was, the noises stopped.  I really don’t know what happened but it seemed as though they left with all their stuff.  I was just glad it was over!   It’s my daughter’s room now.  They swear they have strange happenings and they think it’s haunted.  I tell them not to be silly, there are no such things as ghosts.