This story is from my book Ghost Stories for the Chicken at Heart. In the book I wrote the kid friendly version, but I believe that this story needed to be updated in its full glory. Please enjoy and see a glimpse of what I saw in this home that I grew up in. Also be aware this house is still a rental as far as I know and I do know that other tenants have experienced things in the home as well.
The Haulover House and The Reaper
When I was a child, my parents moved quite a bit. Why you may ask? That is easy because my Dad would quit job after job or get fired for being a know it all. We went from Florida to New Jersey, then back to Florida again. When we returned to Florida for the final time, my Aunt and Uncle found us a rental before we arrived in a home in Spring Hill, Florida, about ten minutes from where they lived. My parents were not keen on moving to a home with a lease due to my Dad's work history but listened to my Aunt and Uncle about the area and decided to sign the lease agreement on the home sight unseen. I think this was because it was either this or we would have to rent a home in the country which my parents would not have liked as they had to get the attention.
When we pulled up to the house for the first time, I hated it. I asked my Mom, "Do we have to live here?"
My Mom grabbed my face and pulled me to her as she said, "Do not fuck this up we have no choice to live here. Your father was the reason we had to leave New Jersey and come back to this shit hole of a state."
When she heard my Aunt and Uncle pull up she let go. Walking up to them she said, "Dee and Mart we love the house."
I looked at the house and felt like something was watching me from the shadows and woods that surrounded the house. The house backed up to the woods when we first moved in, and at night I always felt multiple sets of eyes on me. Silently watching and waiting to get at me. A few years passed and roads were added to the woods behind us with thick strips of trees separating the community built behind us and us normal people. After the roads were added then the homes came.
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Our friends and neighbors who lived behind us always said they had the same feeling of being watched. My parents always told me this was my imagination and I should ignore it. However, when my grandparents came to stay with us for a while, my Grandmother thought the same thing I did. My Grandparents would sit on the back porch off the TV room, and both would get creeped out. Before anyone asks, my Grandfather was tough as nails and had worked for the New Jersey Parks and recreation department. He would say he has seen some messed up stuff over the years. One day when I was much older, my Grandmother told me there were times when she swore that she had seen red eyes amongst the trees and heard someone call her name. She would never let me or my siblings in the backyard alone the whole time she stayed with us.
There was also a problem with the energy in this house felt. It always seemed off. Not like the power would flicker or go off (although it did on the daily). It always seemed like there was a battle going on in this house. The longer we lived there, the worse the energy would get. In the backyard along the outside of the home, the TV room and the bathroom formed a corner outside. There was a ten-foot by ten-foot spot where not even grass would grow. Trust me when I say my Dad tried and failed to grow plants miserably. Have you ever heard of the devil stomping ground? That's what this land did remind me of. The temperature always seemed 15-20 degrees cooler, and even during the hottest Florida temps, this spot gave chills.
Over the years, I never felt easy in this house. I have been past it a few times since I moved out, but I have not set foot in this house in over 25 years. To this day, I still have nightmares about this home. Sometimes it's memories that pop up. Sometimes it's like the house is beckoning me back, like a siren song to lure me back, as if it has unfinished business. This home caused me many sleepless nights. My Grandmother had insisted while I was growing up that my parents take me to the Dr because of my insomnia. My mother finally relented and took me to see a specialist in sleep. The Dr thought my Grandmother was overreacting and told us I was being a kid and had an active imagination. Back in the day, people would wake up and the middle of the night. Work and then go back to sleep and wake up in the morning. He stated this is my body's natural way of sleeping coming out. My Grandmother was not pleased with his explanation but relented and bought some crafting supplies, journals, and art stuff to use when I would be woken up and could not sleep. She even bought me a small light that would not wake my sister.
Although my Grandmother bought me stuff to keep me active when I would most always wake up, Grandma was quite upset with the Doctor's crap diagnosis, believing the Doctor was trying to brush everything off. One day she was at the VFW speaking with another member, and she mentioned my lack of sleep and how concerned she was about it. Her friend had said that her niece was a shrink, and she could talk to her about what was happening with me and see what she thought. My Grandmother was so grateful and said yes. About three weeks later, she said that if my Grandmother wanted to bring me to her house, we could meet her niece and discuss what was happening with me. So a week later, we told my Mom we were going for tea and headed to my Grandmother's friend's house.
When we got to her friend's house, we went into a comfy room, and her niece was this young woman who seemed very interested in helping me. She started asking questions about my living arrangements and how things were in my life. She had asked if it seemed like me if my not being able to sleep changed depending on the type of year. Turning to me and asked what I thought about the house we lived in. I told her I hated living in that house. She asked why. I said because it always seems like there is a quiet fight. She asked what I meant by the feeling of fighting. I told her it's like when your parents are arguing quietly, but as soon as you walk into the room, they stop. But instead of my parents, it's like the house is fighting. I told her the house always feels weird. Not dangerous but also not safe. Then she asked my Grandmother if a shrink had ever hypnotized me. I said, "No" The last two shrinks my parents sent me to couldn't. My Grandmother was shocked. She didn't know my parents had taken me to a shrink. I told her it was because I questioned them. Grams laughed and said she understood.
The therapist sat beside me on the couch and asked me to lie flat. She had me start counting back, and after a while, I fell asleep. After a well-deserved nap, I woke up. My Grandma, her friend, and her niece all looked pale. I asked what was wrong, and they said I had a very active imagination. I looked at each of them, and her friend got up and went to the kitchen, coming back with cookies and a can of Pepsi for me. They had me sit on the back porch and watch TV while they talked. It took me until I was twenty to discover what happened that day. My Grandmother first said that I spoke about a man in a top hat who would sit next to me and watch me sleep. Then I would wake up he would still be watching me from the shadows. She also said I said I could hear the screams of the dead outside, people screaming next to my window, saying they were burning. She said I told them my window curtains would open, and I would see a battle of monsters in my backyard. If the monsters noticed me, the monsters would protect me. The thing is, the creatures I had described sounded like they were demons. But the one thing that bothered them was I mentioned the Reaper. Not a Halloween reaper. But the actual angel of death.
Until this day, I have no explanation for the man in the top hat, although I do have my suspicions. I never was scared by him, just a little creeped out as I could sense him. When I saw my Great Grandfather's spirit, he had been wearing a bowler's cap, so maybe he was watching over me. When it comes to the screams of the dead? That still creeps me out because I do not remember this at all. Same with the monsters having a battle outside my bedroom window. Not being able to remember any of this bothers me. However, I will not ever go under again for my memories.
The Reaper is the one thing that made sense throughout the whole meeting. See, Mom was never a healthy person. When she was a toddler, a local city official had his son sitting on his lap while driving the car, and they hopped the curb and hit my Mom head-on. After being hit by the car, Mom suffered massive head trauma and had to have medical care for a long time. While in the hospital, her Doctor also discovered that she had a growth on her brain but could not operate because it was too dangerous. No surgeon wanted to risk surgery, even though my Mom was already in a bad situation. But after a few months of being in the hospital, my Mom came home and grew up, although she still had many problems with seizures.
The first time I saw the Reaper, my Grandma, and Grandpa visited my Uncle, that lived in the panhandle. I hated when they left because I felt like I was alone. As usual, I had another night of insomnia. I had been reading a book from my newest library haul and heard movement in the hall. I looked up from my book and saw our cat Tiger running into my room and jumping into the closet to hide. I looked up again and had to blink a few times. I saw him, or her, or it, The Reaper. The omen of death, and I knew he was here for Mom. I heard my Dad scream for my Mom to wake up. He was screaming for help and for someone to call 911. I jumped up and ran to the phone in the living room. But when I ran to call 911, I pushed through the Reaper. The chill was horrible, but I managed to get to the phone, and I called. The ambulance was on its way. I unlocked the door and turned and saw the Reaper in the kitchen. I had never touched an unworldly being before until that day. I walked into the kitchen, where I could see him or it, and stood my ground. The ambulance arrived shortly after, and the silent stand-off went on while they loaded my Mom up into the ambulance, and my Dad followed the ambulance to the hospital. The Reaper would return more when I was a kid, but I stood my ground and kept watch over the home. When I saw Tiger run in and hide in the closet, I knew it had returned to try again. I would get up and stand in the hall. It wouldn't pass me. I told them it would not get my Mom, not while I was here guarding the house. When I grew up, my Mom's health improved, and I felt safe enough to leave the home.
Finally, one night I somehow knew he was coming. I stayed in the hall after I had shut the door to my parent's room. He tried to get past me. I said no more it's not time. He pointed to the bruises on me. I said let me handle all this, but it's not her time yet. He backed up, and I smelled death and destruction. He told me I should yield. I shook my head and said no. He bowed and backed away. He said you can't always stop me. I told him I knew but not her, not yet. He whispered to me, we shall see.
I started to get dizzy and swung around by my Father. He started screaming at me, What are you doing sitting in the hallway? He grabbed me by my shoulder and slammed me into the wall screaming at me it was 3 am. Who the fuck are you talking to. My Grandfather pulled him off of me, yelling what's wrong with you? Can't you see she is sleepwalking? He refused to back down from the fight, changing the subject and raising his voice, questioning Why does the kitchen smell like someone set it on fire? My Grandfather laughed it off. I just had a smoke in the garage since it's raining. You probably smell the cigarette I was smoking. He then took hold of me and moved me behind him, saying Can't you see she is sleepwalking? Don't you know how dangerous it is to wake a sleepwalker? He walked me back to my room and tucked me in. He then leaned down and said I guess we had a visitor. I nodded. He pushed my hair back and said it's okay. I got you to get some sleep.
All these years later, I still justify why I stopped the Reaper from taking my Mom. Honestly, I think I knew if my Mom died before my siblings grew up, they would have been in a rough spot. My parents were still mentally and verbally abusive to me all the years I lived with them. The last thing my Mom said to me was not very nice. As of now, I have not spoken to my Dad in over four years. He had told me, I hope you die in a whole, and no one finds you. When I saw him at my granddaughter's birthday party, he was fake and made comments under his breath. My sister and brother probably do not remember what happened in that house or never experienced it because I shielded them. But I felt it was my job to protect everyone when all they did was hurt me. My grandparents did their best to protect me growing up. I moved out of the Haulover house when I was 17, and Grams and Gramps passed away years later.
I have seen the Reaper a few times over the years. The last time I saw him for my Mom was when she was in ICU. The night before, my parents called and said my Mom had cancer. We were going to the hospital to discuss the next steps with the Doctor in the morning. The following morning my Dad flew into the driveway to pick me up. The hospital had called, and we needed to get there fast. My Mom woke up at about three am saying she didn't feel right. She was having a hard time breathing, and then she coded. A blood clot had gone to her brain, and that was it, and she was on borrowed time. I remember walking into ICU. It was there waiting at the window's looking at my Mom. He was waiting. The whole day was a battle with my Dad. My Dad wanted to do everything in the hospital's power to save my Mom. The hospital told my Dad that it was not just up to him. The Doctor told us we had to decide what to do, and I asked the Doctor what her survival rate was. The Doctor said if she survives, she will be a vegetable. How long? With assistance another day or so. However, if her heart stops again and they do CPR, she could get a punctured lung. I advised the Doctor to please, do what they can to keep her alive as I had calls to make so the family could come to say goodbye. My Dad was not happy as he didn't want to have her siblings called. I didn't care. I started to make calls. People scrambled for planes as well as making their way to the hospital. Before long, her room was full of family. I gave them closer.
The family came and visited, and everyone got to say their goodbyes. That night after everyone went home, I stayed in the hospital. I dozed in the recliner. My Dad went to get coffee, and the Nurse came in. I walked over to my Mom and said, "After the lies and everything that happened between us. I hope I did right by you today. I know you hated me. I know I was a mistake. But I still did my duty. I will leave you with Dad, and I am going home." I told my Dad when he came back from getting coffee, I needed to rest in the ICU lobby. He looked at me and said, "No one wanted you here anyway, leave." At this point, I would like to point out that my sister and brother left 4 hours ago.
I headed to the ICU lobby, and the Nurse caught up to me and said, "You didn't have to put up with that, you know."
I smiled and told her, "I knew. It's okay. I have lived this my whole life."
She asked if I was going to leave, and I told her in a few, death was waiting to take her now. I looked down the hall, and I could see the Reaper was now in the room again and next to my Mom. My Dad was sitting there holding her hand. The Nurse looked at me as I said to it, "She is yours now. Do what you must." My Mom coded. No one came running. No one tried to save her. The Reaper finally got to take her away.
I pretended for years that I was not there when my Mom passed away. I acted hurt and surprised no one called me when my Mom died. If they had, they would have heard my cell phone ringing in the hallway in the ICU. I went through the motions that day because I knew my parents never wanted me, and I had always believed I was keeping up with the Jones' baby. Now that I discovered the truth and the truth makes more sense. Funny how things happen.
Could I have stopped the Reaper that day? Should I have ever stopped the Reaper? I felt I always did the right thing because if Mom had died the first time I saw the Reaper, our lives would have been hell. My Father was never a provider, and if it had not been for my Mom, they would never have had what they needed. I am glad I do not have to fight the Reaper for my Dad. I hope when the time comes, I will be informed.
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