Holly on Victoria Street: First Person Account of Nights in a Haunted House

In a small college town I often spend the night out of my apartment and at my girlfriends house. She lives in a house that is over a hundred years old with three other roommates and she often gets nervous and apprehensive when alone in the big house, as most people would. None of the roommates like being there alone and there is always one light on, no matter what. The house sits above street level high on a corner and from other places on campus you can kind of see the house looming in the distance. I'm a very skeptical person and it takes a lot to get me to believe in something, especially the paranormal, but the experiences I've gone through while staying nights there have caused me to become a believer.

The first time I ever visited the house was over a year ago during a party. The people that lived there then were giving a tour and they led a bunch of us into pretty much every room in the house. It is a pretty big house and is basically a two family house that they opened up to share. There are two kitchens, an upstairs one and a downstairs one, two living rooms, three bathrooms and four bedrooms. It's a spacious house that could probably fit more people than it holds. After seeing all of the house, they took us to the basement.

Basements by nature are creepy and cold and dark. This one was no different and the blocked off room on one of the sides just added to the suspicion of the basement. Eventually we got into the room by moving a whole bunch of wood and junk and found a crawl space that was literally cemented up. No one could get into this space that seemed to block off a small portion of the basement. Of course, the owners gave us wild tale of a woman named Holly living and dying here and being buried in the crawl space, and of course I was skeptical while others believed right away. They laughed and shook it off and we all went back upstairs for the party.

During the party, as most college girls seem to do, hundreds of pictures were taken. In the downstairs living room there sits an eerie rocking chair that one of the people that lived there chose to bring with them. In almost every picture of that night there seemed to be a gray mist in the chair. Finally, when my girlfriend got one of her pictures back, it was almost like we were looking at a full image of an old woman. The chair of course, sits right over the cemented up crawl space. I figured it was just my eyes seeing what my mind wanted me to see and cast it off as just a coincidence and it could have been anything. In reality, I was apprehensive.

The second night I stayed in the house I heard tapping on the walls that sounded like it was coming from outside. The next morning when I went outside to look at the surroundings of the house, nothing could have made that constant tapping noise, no wires or tree branches were even close to that side of the wall. I also noticed that her room was positioned right above the living room where the rocking chair was, which was right above the crawl space. Of course, this just made me even more apprehensive. The constant taps continued for a few more nights until about a week later.

I was sleeping over again and it was getting late and my girlfriend decided to go brush her teeth and get ready for bed. I was starting to get a headache so I turned the television and the lights in the room off. The second I turned the lights off I thought I caught a glimpse of something by the end of the bed, but shook it off. I got into the bed and rolled over on my back and closed my eyes. I pulled the covers up over me and started to drift. All of a sudden there was a tug on the sheets and it snapped me awake. My girlfriend was still in the bathroom so it couldn't have been her. I slowly laid my head back down again but kept my eyes open. The sheets were tugged again. I didn't have any reaction. Then the bed was tugged and I sat upright and walked in to the bathroom and told my girlfriend who cast it off as I was dreaming.

When she climbed into bed for the night she was complaining that I was kicking off the covers when in fact I hadn't moved. She looked at me with her eyes wide and we both waited for it to happen again. Finally after a few minutes the bed was tugged exactly five times before she sat up and said "Stop it!" I wouldn't have personally thought anything of something of this, sleeping in an old house where pretty much anything seems like it could be debunked as an architectural flaw. But ever sense she said stop, the tugging has never happened again.