The Haunted House That Jack Built

Our house was built by a man called Jack. Nothing in this house was done properly, and Jack died before he could do anymore work. The floors were uneven, the cabinets, walls and doors were all crooked. It’s not a nice house to look at—but that didn’t bother me. I had just gotten divorced and Jacks daughter had invited me to live in her father’s old house. I was happy to oblige.

The first night I spent there was uneasy. The closet in my room gave me a really strong vibe. But you always think that about a new house, don’t you? There’s spooks in every new thing we do. Whenever I was in the kitchen I felt like I was being watched. I constantly felt terrified in the basemen. I hated the closet in my room, it smelled so strange.

The crawlspace under the house gave me my first experience of “seeing” the paranormal. I saw the figure of a man crouching under there. He looked young, and pre-occupied. I thought it was the exterminator, but as I walked towards him he disappeared.

Rest of this article