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Author: Robert Credeur
Location: Opelousas, Louisiana
Ture Story
This story is 100% factual. It is, however, rather long so you may need some time to read it. I hope you find it worth your time..
The next few weeks were relatively quiet. I came home to an overflowing bathtub one night, and the lights were flashing occasionally, but nothing extremely weird. I was working at night while going to school, and came home pretty tired usually. One of these nights I came home exhausted and hungry, taking only enough time to fix myself a sandwich. I ate it and went to bed. When I walked in to my kitchen the next morning, I was quite shocked to find the entire room covered with at least an inch of small, white Styrofoam beads, the kind which stuffed animals are stuffed with. I stood and stared at the floor for what must have been a half hour. The door was locked. No one had been able to get inside. At some point I called my grandmother and asked her to come over to the house without telling her what had happened. Sensing that it was important, she came over right away. She was very confused to see me standing in the middle of Styrofoam pellets. I told her that I wanted her to see this for herself and began to explain to her what happened. She resisted, as I expected, claiming that I was sleepwalking and had done this myself. I thought about this for a moment, but then realized that we had no stuffed animals for me to rip apart in my sleep. My sister and I had thrown them away years ago. Where were the casings. Why was it only in the kitchen. How could even 20 stuffed animals produce as much stuffing as was on the floor. She had no answer and we cleaned it up silently. The next day, I had all of the locks to my house changed (I possessed the only key), locked all of the windows and taped hairs across them to make sure that they remained unopened. I vowed to face my problem with a new resolve; I was going to figure out whatever was going on. I was determined that there was a rational explanation for these incidents (quite strange for me, considering my fascination with the paranormal). In retrospect I realize that the more I tried to ignore what was happening and to explain it away , the more things happened.
It was about this time that all hell broke loose. It would be impossible for me to recount every incident that happened over the next year. Lights flashed, doors opened and slammed closed. My stereo, which now was perpetually unplugged, would take the notion to turn itself on every now and then. I heard whispering and laughter. I would find knickknacks moved around the house. A few pieces of jewelry showed up out of nowhere. I could set something down, turn around for two seconds, and it would vanish (like the expensive fountain pen I received as a gift from a college friend; I still have never found it). I went through 17 answering machines in 1 year, since they all seemed to malfunction, four of them catching on fire. I would come home from school or work and find that picture frames had broken and glass scattered all over the house. I had a collection of Chinese corkwood creations enclosed in glass globes on my entertainment center. There were about 10 of them. Over the course of a month they became smashed, one every few nights, with none of the others being touched. There is no doubt in my mind that no one was able to get into the house. Still, the TV turned on in the middle of the night. Lightbulbs exploded for no reason, even when they were not turned on. My clothes would be mysteriously spread on the floor of my entire house still on the hangers. The rocking chair would rock on its own. The phone would ring incessantly with no one on the other line. I had an audio cassette tape of music I had recorded; at the very beginning of this tape is jarbled language (which also sounds like speech played backwards) which says very clearly "(my name) I can't get out of your stomach!". I can guarantee that no one was around when this tape was being recorded. It is the scariest thing I have every heard, and I still have it to this day (I have only recently thought of sending it in for analysis). Event after event occurred, and still I was not convinced that my house was "haunted". My friends were sure that it was. When I look back I am extremely happy that so many of the events that occurred happened in full of view of sometimes more than one person. I have had to call on them many times to verify events. In fact, most of the "big" stuff happened when I was not alone. I can only imagine how strange it must have been for them to see me remain so calm and say "There has got to be a rational explanation" when books were falling to the floor right in front of us or doors were slamming as we spoke. Needless to say, my friends slowly stopped coming by.
Mike did not stop coming over, although he spent many restless nights in the house. He once woke me in the middle of the night insisting that someone had opened the bedroom door, crossed the room and went into the closet. Upon inspection, the closet door was indeed standing ajar. Mike slept with a rosary that night. He also decided to give me a cat whom I named Phyllis. Phyllis was a pretty tabby/Persian mix who was as yellow as sunshine. She was very affectionate and loving. But she too, knew something was amis. Many times Phyllis would hiss at the wall, or arch her back at an empty doorway. She would track empty air with her eyes. I still remained unconvinced, until the day Phyllis nearly died.
I was sitting in my recliner reading a book when I heard this strange noise. I looked up to see Phyllis being pulled across the floor, only nothing was pulling her. Whatever it was had her by the neck and was not letting go. I immediately went to help her, screaming at whatever it was to "Stop it! Stop it!" and I plucked Phyllis from the floor (I felt no resistance from anything, however). She immediately had a full blown seizure for a few minutes. I realized that night, holding my cat and crying, that my house was definitely haunted.
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