Thirty Days in the House, John Reeves [top reads txt] 📗

wasn't willing to talk about it. I know it scared him real good, and I think it'd help him if he talk about it. He thought going back to work would help ease his stress, which he was confident was the source on the night terrors. I packed him a lunch before he left. Maybe going back to work will help him, but I really wish he'd discussed his bad dream.

Tonight after we'd finished eating, I asked him about his nightmare. He was not willing to discuss it. "I don't like talking about bad things." I hoped the wine would loosen him up some, however it didn't do anything but cause him to go to bed sooner. I sat up an hour longer than he did. Sitting on the couch in the den, I listened to the various sounds throughout the house. I didn't know which sounds were paranormal, and which were old house sounds.


Day 11

John has been acting strange, and not just his talking to himself. He seems somewhat confused lately. There's always a strange lost look on his face. Sometimes when he's talking to me he forgets what the subject matter was about. As I write this John is sitting in front of a T.V. that isn't on, with a half a bottle of red wine.
The house is coming together well, but the unknown is still that, the unknown. John has taken up cigarette smoking again. "It's an old habit that found me again." He spoke of it like an old friend. I think it's disgusting, but it's his lungs. I'm going now to wake John up. He's fallen asleep on the couch.


Day 12

I met some pretty cool neighbors today. They live just down the road beyond the foot of the hill. They're a little older than John and I, but they seem to like the things we do. We need to find some friends in our new area. All the old friends are an hour away from our new home. Norma and Charles would be great friends, for John and me.
There is a stray cat that has shown up here at our house. I fed the little rascal, and he's hung around since then. At least I can sleep at night knowing the cat isn't starving. People drop animals off out here in the deep country, and hope they'll survive in the wilderness. The animal has a better chance of survival if you drop it off in the city. I hope nobody drops off that horrible dog from my nightmare the other night. Some time things stay awhile; that dreams has stayed.


Day 13

John has been spending time in the basement. I have checked to see what he's doing, and it's usually something productive, but not an immediate need. Organizing the basement, while there are still boxes all over the house seems backward to me. If he thinks I'm going to unpack everything, he's lost his fucking mind. The boxes can stay there for all I care.

OK, the last entry to this diary was not completely true. I do care if the boxes stay stacked, but I wish John would help more. We might have had a lot of things in the apartment, but the large house makes it look like we have nothing. John had been cutting ply-wood in the basement. I think he might be building shelves. I'm saying, "John we have boxes to unpack up here in the real world." I think he just loves the extra space to play around.


Day 14

There is something in the house with us. I truly believe it's paranormal, but there has been very little to prove that theory. John was down in the basement - I think he was sharpening the yard tools with the grinding wheel. I could hear footsteps upstairs, and not slightly...I could hear a big mans shoe walking slowly across the open hallway. I know John would laugh at me, but I think there are ghosts inside this house.
I think there are things that we are not meant to understand. Perhaps it's like this, we share a dimension with other we don't see. Ghosts if you will, and they're the ones who didn't get to Heaven or, somehow got lost. Maybe we all come back to live among the places adorned by us while living. I'm open to things I hadn't been before. I think I want to understand things, things we're not meant to understand.


Day 15

When John arrived home from work he took a 12-pack of beer straight down to the basement. You'd think he's got pornography down there or something. When I looked in there on him he was throwing darts at the dartboard. Since the dream he had the other night, he's really gotten strange. I think he's talking to himself as I write this. It's almost as if he's avoiding me on purpose. I guess I'm going to have to infringe on his privacy. I can't go much longer with the separation.


Day 16

When I woke up this morning at 4:55, John was already gone. Nothing strange there, because he often goes to work early. I went back to bed for another hour, and then went down to the kitchen for coffee and my light breakfast. Then I began sifting through one of the boxes from within the hidden space in basement.

I found this, here I'll read it to you:

To whom it may concern 2-23-56
If you're reading this letter than you probably know what I'm about to tell you is true. The monsters are just in your imagination, but that's not saying they can't harm you. You must stand your ground and look them in the face, however you mustn't show them fear.
My dog spot can see them before I do, sometimes even when I don't. I haven't let them get me, and If you're reading this, than they haven't gotten you yet either. Stand you're ground, because these grounds are holy, not evil. The people are lying because they don't know what's really happening.

D. Maxwell

Day - 17

John thought there was nothing to the letter. I thought otherwise, and I went down to the local library and found out that letter was from a man named Don Maxwell. In 1931 was the first doctor to open a clinic in town. He struggled to keep people healthy during the great depression, but was commended for doing so later. Maxwell Road is named in his honor, as well as the Don Maxwell Recreation Park.
I asked Norma and Charles about him, they said he was a quit man, who lived up here until he got too old to maintain such a big house. There are bigger houses than this one but, for one old man it could be difficult. His wife died in 1947 and Don never remarried. Their description of the man sounded kind of sad.


Day 20

The doors open and close by themselves, and I'm convinced that Don Maxwell is doing it. No the ghost doesn't seem to be evil, or out to get me, but It's creepy when you get the feeling you're not alone, and you realize you aren't alone. The note is kind of scary too, but John who thinks it's irrelevant, has been irrelevant himself down in the basement. Tonight he took his diner down to the basement. That's really the last straw. I'm going to talk to him.


Day 21

I think John