This happened when
I was about 10 or 11. I am now 23. My family had moved into a
very old house in Salt Lake City, Utah. I''m not sure how old but
the basement was just a big dirt hole. The house was located
right next to the I-80 freeway. I''m not quite sure of the exact
address but it was about 200 E. 2400 S., if you are traveling
west on I-80 and get off on the State Street exit, and look to
your right, that''s the street. (For those ghost hunters that
would like to know.) I have very little memory of this house, but
will tell you of the ghostly happenings that I do remember. Some
of them are second hand, meaning my mom told me after they
happened.
My mom was in the kitchen fixing dinner, when I heard her scream
and start cussing. I came running in from my bedroom and asked
her what was wrong. She told me that Cory (my stepfather) had
just thrown a pair of scissors at her, and pointed to the
scissors on the floor. She said when she turned around to find
out what she did wrong. He wasn''t there. (Cory was very abusive
toward my mom and me) I told my mom that he wasn''t even home from
work yet, and she said, "No, he was just here. I heard him
pull into the driveway and come in." We both went outside to
see if his truck was there. No truck. Now Corys truck was quite
loud and couldn''t be missed. Now this was mid summer. When we
walked back into the house, we both noticed a chill. We had no
air-conditioner, so it couldn''t have been that. We didn''t want to
upset Cory so we dismissed the occurrence until about two weeks
later when something similar happened.
Again my mom was in the kitchen (notice a sequence), but this
time she was sewing a baby blanket. I guess I should tell you my
mom was eight and a half months pregnant with my sister at the
time. She was just sewing along when she saw all of her cutlery
just kinda fall out of their holder. She said it was hard to
explain, it was like if someone had picked up the holder and
turned it upside down, but it didn''t move. (Got me?!?!) Then she
said one by one the knives were being thrown at her. She yelled
for me. When I came in, one of the knives just barely missed me.
My mom was unfortunate. We both ran out of the kitchen and headed
for the front door, we turned around and the knives were in the
holder. My mom got cut on her left arm about 4 or 5 inches above
her wrist. It wasn''t a bad cut. Neither one of us dared to go
into the kitchen until Cory got home.
When Cory came home, my mom told him what had happened that day
and the previous occurrence. He couldn''t, wouldn''t and didn''t
believe us. He made some lame excuse for what happened. I can''t
remember what exactly, somewhere along the lines of us wanting
attention.
Now the basement stairway is in the kitchen. (There''s that
sequence again.) I can''t remember what I did but for punishment
Cory threw me in the basement. He knew that I was scared of the
basement and would never go down there. I always got this eerie
feeling when I passed the door. All I remember is pounding on the
door and crying for him to let me out. It seemed like forever but
he finally let me out. When I called my mom a few days ago to get
the address of this house, I told her that I was going to write
about our experiences in this house. I had asked her if she had
ever gone down in the basement and she said, "No, that she
was afraid of what was down there." So at least I wasn''t the
only one afraid of the basement.