Home is where the ghosts are.
You've heard the saying, "Home is where the heart is"? Well the picture within this post is my old house in Fennville. Home is where the heart is relates more to home is where the ghosts are. And I say this because I truly believe that there was something going on at my home whether it's ghosts, ghouls, or gnomes. From what I was told my house was once a funeral home. Between my parents and I we would take turns using the basement as a bedroom. What I didn't know when I first started staying down there was that a section of the basement was where the funeral home cremated the deceased. Whenever I went down there it felt like someone else was present. While walking down to the main part of the basement there was a crawl space and it always seemed as though someone was watching from within. There was a curtain that covered the opening of the crawl space and whenever I walked by it I was sure something would jump out. I'm sure everyone in the area had an old Michigan basement and it seemed creepy but mine was really bad. Even after my parents finished the basement and made it look nice, it still had a scary feel to it. One night I remember hearing little kids calling for help through the vents. I heard it several times and I remember running to my moms room so that I could sleep on the floor. It scared the crap out of me. I told my mom about it and she told me that back when they first bought the house they used to hear people screaming from the basement. There were bones that had been found down there after knocking down a wall and a priest was brought in to bless the home. The bones were buried and they never heard anything again but now my siblings and I were hearing things around the house. Along with the kids screaming through the vents, there was a time when a friend of mine and I heard someone or something running upstairs and down into the basement. We had been up late so that we could sleep the entire way to Six Flags and we heard something upstairs. I thought it was my dad up in the living room but he had already gone to bed. The footsteps turned into fast pounding on the floor above us and it sounded like it ran across and into the kitchen. We ran upstairs and stood by the doorway to the kitchen and we heard it coming towards us and we ran. I remember my friend jumping into one bed and I jumped into the other. I threw the blanket over my head and I could hear someone walking around. It felt as though someone was there staring at us and then it was gone.
There were a lot of scary and creepy things that happened at my house in Fennville. There were things that I can't explain and maybe I don't want to know but it's definitely interesting and something I will never forget. Maybe the scariest thing that happened there was when my mom and siblings returned to the house after we had moved out. She had come back to clean out the basement since it had been sold and she says that it still felt like someone was down in the basement. While she was cleaning she heard something. She stood there for a moment and then heard it again. It was a little louder and it whispered, "I knew you would come back." That was the last time any of us stepped foot in that house.