“Uncertainty and mystery are energies of life. Don’t let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity.”
-R. I. Fitzhenry
There is something living in my attic!
It’s not paying rent!
It’s, them, whatever is going down!!!!!
I paid the “Rat Guy” a ransom to go up there.
He said we have the cleanest attic he’s seen in a long time.
HA HA I have a clean attic!
Please oh please may the clean spread to the rest of the house.
Attic is clean says the dude that looks like he might just be the blanket kid from the Peanuts gang.
Then the thumping comes back a few days later. AGAIN!
I’ve had the screen guy, the bug dude, the ‘OMG I don’t know what I did but fix it’ guy out…
There is still things that go bump in the night!
I have decided that our house hates me.
I make a multi course dinner because well, I HAVE to cook for someone.
We sit down to a nice table, BUMP, sounds like they are coming for dinner!
Drifting off to sleep it sounds like they are coming right on through the ceiling!
I’ve been nice… now, GAME ON!
I went to the garage and nabbed a handful of paintball balls, stuck them in the freezer.
Ha! Armed with the wickedly evil paint balls, loaded ready for action when we poked our heads up there…
I was ready to exorcize some evil demons!
All I got was insulation… We don’t have “real attic”.
So being the silly chick I am, I went armed and decided it was a good idea to swing through the rafters.
Not another day would set before I found out what was driving me nuts from above!
We cut back the trees so nothing but a big daring cat could make the leap.
“Our pets” still thumped.
We hit the roof the next morning looking for any holes or flippy parts that could be inviting.
I called a roofing company to inspect.
There was still something upstairs.
It has turned into a please fix my car situation.
You know the drill. Car makes strange persistent noise and you find yourself sitting at your auto service center describing this mystery noise in the stupidest way humanly possible while the man is chewing the end of his pen looking at you like you have lost your dang mind. Then he hands you the nasty pen to sign away your financial freedom.
Mr. Pen Chewing Car Guy calls to say they can not find a thing wrong but they took care of the fluids and replaced the wiper blades. You pick up the car with a feeling of satisfaction that you have just made it through another attempted car-tastrophy. As you reach to flip on the radio, womp womp reeeeeeeeeeeeeeee… the noise is back.
Back to the the car guy. This time you brought your own pen.
Are you following me?
I thought about having my head examined but the rest of the family can hear the noises too so I’m not just having girl in the bubble too much coffee hallucinations.
In my quest to locate what ever it was that tormented us, I decided to go through every plant, every shrub and and examine every inch of the outside of our home.
I discovered that there is a opossum living in our hedge and he doesn’t like it when I shove my hand into the shrub to peel back the branches.
I had my nose inches from an angry opossum before I realized that my nose had be stuck into places it didn’t belong and got out of there FAST!
Maybe it remembered the time I used him like a soccer ball. (Read about that crazy HERE)
Then abruptly the noises stopped. For three weeks all was quiet on this Western front.
I was starting to think that we had finally done it.
Something had worked at last!
The alarm clock sounded and I reached to turn it off.
Thump, bump… whack!
“Did you hear that?” I say smacking the The Handsome Prince in the arm.
“Says the almost deaf chick to the hearing. Of course!” He cracks a joke with his eyes still closed.
Another bump announces that our “pets” are either coming or going.
The sound of squirrels on the roof, birds and even raccoon is pretty easy to tell apart.
This is different almost like a raccoon was electric shocked and was flopping around like a fish out of water.
Since I’ve called all the professionals I could think might have a clue and they have nothing to report other than the bill, we’re on our own.
*Insert theme music from Poltergeist here*
Before consulting a Native American and a short little lady with a squeaky voice to explore my possible vortex to doom theory, I tossed it by The Prince.
“If we’re haunted, it’s your fault” announces the man.”This was an undead and spirit free residence prior to your and your open to possibilities we can not understand stuff. We do not have ghosts.”
I stare at him.
“Alright, if we were being haunted what purpose would banging around do. It’s not like Beetlejuice and banisters are turning into snakes or something cool. Who wants to spent their afterlife watching us anyway?
It always freaked me out when people say that our departed loved ones are watching us. I don’t want my grandma in the bathroom with me. Could you imagine if Gramps was just chillin’ out right there on the end of the bed…”
Our heads both turn slowly to look at the end of the bed as if like magic he was going to be sitting there.
Bump, whack, bum bum thwack from above.
“I think I’m done discussing this,” My handsome Hero announces, totally creeped out and ready to call for a paranormal team to ask the departed fam to relocate.
I’ve checked for holes, droppings, smells like a freaking human Scooby Doo!
I’ve nearly received stitches from an angry opossum, covered every square inch on this property inside and out but alas, my Nancy Drew skills were not enough to crack this case.
It’s up there… the something upstairs.
Just in case, I say nice things to it out loud occasionally in the hopes it wont suck my soul or eat it’s way through my pantry leaving little “raisins” behind.
If only I knew what the enemy was.
Do I buy a trap or hire a priest?
Breaking out the sage,
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