While You Sleep.

June 13, 2011

My aunt owns the old Fremont Bridge keeper’s house in Seattle. I often watch over it and my grandfather (who lives in the basement apartment) while she goes away on trips-until this succeeding event happened, {now I refuse}. There is a bedroom that is original to the house on the main floor and ever since I was a little kid, being in that room has provoked a very dense feeling of sadness and fear and I’ve never been able to explain it, and I’ve never talked about it to anyone. My mom recently visited and she was set up in this bedroom. I was sleeping in my aunt’s bed and came downstairs to get a glass of water to find my mom asleep on the couch with the tv on. I turned it off and went back to bed. The next morning I asked her why she slept on the couch and she said she’s never been able to sleep in that room because she thinks it’s haunted. I told her I’ve felt the same way about it for years.

I think it’s important to note that house has a ton of windows and glass doors. There are two sets of glass french doors, a glass front door, a glass side door, and a glass back door. I mainly state this because it didnt make matters any better.

The last time I watched my aunt’s house, I was undergoing a prolonged time period of constantly feeling like someone was watching me everywhere I went. A deep paranoia was taking over my nerves day by day that I couldn’t break free from. But it was increasingly amplified when I was in her house. I forced myself to sleep in the guest room even though I felt miserable in it.

At the time, I had just gotten a new phone. One of its features was a voice recorder and I thought it was badass so sometimes I would just walk around with it recording noise of the city or the bus and then listen to it later. (I’m easily amused).

I was on a bus one day on the way back to my aunt’s house to call it a night. I had been staying there for about a week. I was the only person on the bus sitting on one of the benches until another man boarded and sat on the seat directly on the other side of the plastic barrier. Another man boarded the next stop and they both reacted to each other emphatically- they had not seen or heard from each other in 15 years and broke into one of the most amazing conversations I’ve ever heard. So I took out my phone and started recording the conversation.

I was walking over the Fremont Bridge to my aunt’s house after getting of the bus and excitedly played it back. The noise of the traffic was obstructing my ability to hear the audio clearly so I put it to my ear. The conversation cut out and there was dead air for a few seconds. And then a man’s voice completely unlike either of that of the men on the bus said “Whitney, I’ve been watching you while you sleep.” And then there was dead air and the conversation between the men continued.

When I finally arrived to my aunt’s house, I turned on all the lights and sat in the middle of her kitchen crying and rocking back and forth while I played it over and over again.

I drank myself stupid for about two weeks while desperately trying to find someone to help me make sense of it. I sent it to my friend and she had it stored on her computer. Soon after, the file corrupted.

Other than the bridge keeper, an elderly woman lived alone in the house. She moved out because she was lonely. After that, the house was abandoned for around a decade. My aunt denies that the room is haunted and is clearly offended by it. Nobody I tell this story to believes it. The only person who believed me was the girl whom i sent the file to. (I lost the phone soon after) I recently told someone about it and they didnt believe me so I contacted her and asked her to send it to me so I could prove it. Which is when she told me it was corrupt. I wish I still had it. My guess is that something bad happened in the house when it was abandoned in the 60s. I’ve tried to do research on it, but I can’t find anything.

– Posted by theonethatgotaway; Reddit


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