Purple HazeJanuary 12, 2013
When I was a kid, we moved into a really nice house. It was enormous and way outside what my parents should have been able to afford. They thought they’d just lucked into a great deal.
It started quickly after we moved. Weird whispers when we’d go to bed. Closet doors would open and shut at night. My mom started getting depressed for no real reason. And for me, the nadir moment was when I saw this purple haze (not a Hendrix reference) float from my bedroom to the bathroom across the hall.
As a family, we had no idea what was going on until my dad started painting the bathroom. A neighbor dropped by to say hi and pointed to the ceiling where my dad was painting – noting that he could see the bullet hole from where the prior owner shot herself. (Bad depression.). Supposedly, thereafter no one would (or could) live there without having problems. Dad decided to get the house blessed and things calmed down.
I was just a kid at the time and it could have all been our collective imaginations. Not saying any of it was real. Just fucking weird.