The light was swallowed by the darkness entirely. I turned on my phone flashlight but it was futile. My curiosity was overpowering my common sense as I decided to take a step in. The frigid icy feeling in the air was almost overwhelming, and I was wondering how the inside of my house could be nearly freezing. Despite the lights being on in the closet I couldn't even see a foot into the cold darkness. A hole about the size of a small child is now just in front of me. A small avalanche of white-painted drywall crumbles to the floor around my feet. I push on the wall again and it gives in. Yet for some reason, I felt compelled to enter. Saying I was scared is an understatement. I took a step back, not wanting to bust the whole wall down. I pushed on it with my finger and the drywall began to fall apart.
House creaks crack#
I pushed them back to see a small crack in the paint. There were clothes on a rack, hiding the wall from which the tapping sound originated. I heard a tapping against the back wall of my closet. The creaks became louder, and were increasing in frequency. I could feel every thump of my heartbeat all throughout my face. My throat muscles were struggling to force my heart back down to where it belonged.
As if an elderly man was beckoning me in a whispering voice. “Maxwell, come" the voice calls out again. I now noticed that whatever silence there initially was had vanished, and I began questioning why the creaks were so apparent despite there being no sound of wind outside. As I look around in the closet, seeing nothing noteworthy, I hear the creaks pick up again. The bed was clear, but when I opened my closet door a coldness shot down through my spine. There is nothing there once more, so I decide to look under the bed and in the closet. I slowly get out of bed and turn on my lamp, just a few feet away. "Maxwell", I hear my name called once more. Do you ever have that happen? Where you hear your name, or feel like you're falling, or get a shock in your body? Isn't that the worst? I roll back over and shut my eyes, moving my feet up and down on the cold sheets to soothe me back into slumber. This happens a lot when I'm falling asleep though, so I think nothing of it. I jolted up and looked around me but saw nothing. I began dozing off when I heard my name being called. Almost as if the house was swaying left and right a cradle to rock me to sleep. Being in this house.Īs I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, I begin hearing the all-too-familiar creaks.
The silky sheets my sister handed down to me when she relocated to Australia. The cool breeze from the AC my parents always had on. I'd soak up all the senses that flooded my body. I made a conscious effort to really enjoy the last few weeks I had in my own bed. Ready to go off to college and experience the dorm life. In what seemed like no time at all, I was now 18 years old. They all had the same explanation my mother had. I would sleep over at my schoolmates' places and hear similar creaking. As I grew older, I started to realize that many other houses shared this same phenomenon. I would snuggle up under my covers and listen to the creaks that followed the whistling of the wind hitting the side of the house. I became accustom to it, sometimes even enjoying it during very windy nights. We lived in a house that was made in the 1800's, so this explanation made sense to me. It used to scare me as a child, but my mother would always reassure me it's just the age of the house. If your house creaks throughout the night, you need to read this
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