Long, long ago, I went to show a house to a potential new client in Birdland (a section of Scott Township in which all the streets are named after birds.
I arrived before my clients and went in to turn on all the lights and get the lay of the land. It was absolutely terrifying. The house was empty. There was nothing to see that was out of the ordinary. Just a house. But I was so scared I ended up sitting on the floor in the CORNER of the living room because I couldn’t stop feeling someone RIGHT BEHIND ME.
I was seriously a mess by the time the people got there. It turned out they didn’t speak a lick of English so they just walked through the house and I stood basically at the door trying not to cry. (I’m serious). They didn’t like the house and left after only 5 minutes. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
Fast forward YEARS, and I’m at my daughter’s Girl Scout meeting and chatting with a fellow mom. She mentions where she lives, and I just offhandedly remarked that I showed a house right across the street from where she lived. She was like “ooooooh I assume you know the story about that house?” I was like NOOOOO. What story? I had not told her I was scared or that I thought it was haunted.
She says to me that there were two elderly people who lived there and they both died in the downstairs room off the living room. The wife died and then the husband soon after.
Couldn’t believe it. Except I could because I FELT THEM. They were not happy campers having people in their house at all. Hey sellers, if you do end up dying, can you please do me a solid and just GO TO THE LIGHT????
The Girl, the Homes, the Stories 