✅The Haulover House and the Reaper

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. Even now thirty years later I still dream about the woods and going through the tree line to a alternate reality. I know that the community is still there and the roads have not changed. However now when I dream of it I go through the woods and have seen military compounds, aliens ships and graveyards.

A few years had passed since we moved in and roads were added to the woods behind us with thick strips of trees and a chain link fence separating the community built behind us and us normal people. After the roads were added then the homes came.

We made friends with the kids and people who lived in the new community and they even said the same thing, They felt like they were being watched from the tree lines. My parents never wanted to believe that there could be something in the woods. They would always tell me its my imagination and to ignore it. I couldn't ignore what I was seeing and I was promptly punished by my parents for scaring my sister and brother.

A few years later when my Grandparents came to stay with us for a while, my Grandmother thought the same thing I did about the home and property. My Grandparents would sit on the back porch off the TV room until dark set in, and both would get creeped out as soon as it got pitch black out. No matter how many lights were on outside they would come in and sit at the kitchen table or in the living room. Before anyone asks, my Grandfather was tough as nails and had worked for the New Jersey Parks and Recreation Department for years. He would tell us he has seen some messed up stuff over the years. One day when I was much older, we were talking about the old house and 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 into the backyard alone the whole time she stayed with us.

There was also a problem with the way the house felt. It always seemed like the house had an energy to it and that energy felt off. Not like the power would flicker or go off, although it did daily when you would least expect it. When someone would check the breaker box everything would be alright. Even when everything in the house was calm it would feel like the house had constant fighting going on. The longer we lived there, the worse the energy would be. In the backyard along the outside of the home, the TV room and the bathroom formed a corner. In this corner there was a ten-foot by ten-foot spot where not even grass would grow. When I say my Dad tried and failed to grow plants no matter how hard he tried or the money he spent on things to help him. Have you ever heard of the devil's stomping ground? That's what this corner on our property reminded me of. The temperature always felt fifteen to twenty degrees cooler, and even during the hottest Florida temps, this spot gave me the chills. As I grew up the feeling of being uneasy in the house never went away. I have been past the house a few times since I moved out when I was seventeen, but I have not set foot in this house in over 25 years. To this day, I still have nightmares about this house and the things I experienced there. Sometimes it's the memories that pop up out of no where. Sometimes it's like the house is beckoning, calling me back, like a siren song to lure me back as if it has unfinished business.

Growing up this home caused me many sleepless nights and until this day I still suffer from bouts of insomnia when I hear a noise or get a weird feeling. While she was staying with us my Grandmother had insisted that my parents take me to the Doctor because of my insomnia. She made a fuss to my Parents telling them its not healthy for a child my age to not have a good nights sleep. My Mother finally relented and took me to see a sleep specialist. The Doctor thought my Grandmother was overreacting and told her and my Mother I was being a kid and had an overactive imagination. 

He also explained that 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. Then they would take a nap during the day. Stating that this was my body's natural sleep cycle. When Grandma argued that I did not nap even after little sleep and a full day at school he said some people do not need that much sleep. 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 so I would not wake my sister who shared a room with me. 

Although my Grandmother bought me stuff to keep me active when I would most always wake up and not go back to sleep to the early hours of the morning. As I was going through the supplies quickly, my Grandma was still quite upset with the Doctor's crap diagnosis, she believed the Doctor was trying to brush everything off due to my Mother trying to brush everything off and trying to make it sound like I was staying up for attention.

A few weeks later my Grandma and my Grandpa went to the VFW. One of the woman asked, "Are you alright you seem like something is on your mind?"

Grandma sighed and said, "I am worried about my Granddaughter she has had insomnia for over a year and when I took her to the Doctor with her Mom he basically said I am overreacting to pacify her Mother saying it was a normal sleep pattern. She barely gets four to five hours of sleep a night. I am worried because none of my kids ever had any of these issues growing up and her parents do not care at all. She gets in trouble when she wakes up because she might wake her sister."

Her friend said, "You know my niece is a psychologist, and I  could talk to her about what is happening with your Granddaughter and see what she thinks." 

Not realizing how true this statement was, Grandma said, "Yes! Thank you her parents are not taking this seriously and I am worried this will affect her long term."

About three weeks after she had spoken with her friend, she called my Grandmother and said that if my Grandmother wanted to bring me to her house, we could meet her niece and discuss what was happening with me. A a week later, we told my Mom we were going for tea and headed to my Grandmother's friend's house. My Mother wanted to come with us and Grandma told her that her friend was very shy and did not want to have people she did not know in her home. My Mother went to argue and Grandma said, "If you were invited that would be something different but she has never met you and it would be rude to bring you with us. She has met Angie and invited her to have a tea at her home."

When we arrived at her friend's house, we went into a comfy room, and her niece was this young woman who seemed very interested in helping me. I was comfortable meeting her which was not a normal thing for me as I have always been uncomfortable with strangers. Once we were settled she started to ask me questions.

She asked, "So Angie, Can I ask you about your living arrangements?"

I said, "I live with my parents, sister, brother and my Grandparents are staying with us right now?"

"How do you feel life is going for you?" She asked. "I heard you are having trouble sleeping."

"Yes, I have trouble sleeping," I said. "I feel like I am having a dream and when I wake up I do not remember why. Sometimes I feel like I should remember, but part of me is scared to. My parents do not like me and think I am faking it. I would rather sleep until morning so I do not wake up anymore. When Grandma and Grandpa move out I will be in so much trouble."

"Why do you say that?" She asked.

Grandma said, "Her parents are very hard on her and we keep them away. We are trying to figure out something to help her. They do not believe she cannot control this."

"The house is bad and no matter what I tell them they think that I am faking it," I said. "I never liked the house but it has gotten so much worse. I wish we could move but Mom and Dad said it is not an option. I hate living there. Even when its quiet it feel like that house is fighting itself."

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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.