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Haunted House for Sale
by: Rose
I could feel my entire body stiffen as the air around us turned heavy and cold. We were apprehensively, but patiently sitting in the front seat of our car waiting for our friend to arrive. Just half an hour earlier, Tom had called and frantically asked for our help. We could tell by the trembling in his voice that something was horribly wrong. Then he told us that he could not stay in his home for even an hour without becoming severely depressed and suicidal. When we asked Tom if he felt depressed when he was not at home, he said no. He only felt this way when he was in his house. 
Tom never invited anyone to his home. In the past, I never questioned this. Now, I began to recall the many times that we would meet Tom at either the ocean for a leisurely stroll or at a local restaurant for our traditional Friday evening dinners together. It suddenly dawned on me that we had never even seen where he lived.
Tom’s house was only seven years old and in excellent shape.  When it was being built he had requested majestically high vaulted ceilings and a large multicolored stained glass window that towered above the front entrance. As I sat in the car looking at it, I began to wonder why in the world this beautiful home had not sold yet. 
The house was the only string that tied Tom to the very abusive alcoholic woman that he had divorced three years earlier. They did not have any children together, so the only thing that Tom’s ex-wife could use to stay connected to him was the home that they had once shared. Tom had put the house up for sale in an attempt to sever all ties with her. At first his ex-wife threatened to keep the house from selling. Then, after many heated debates, she decided to let the house sell if they could get a good price for it. Because of the economy their house’s value had dropped from the $250,000.00 it had cost to build it, to a sad $150,000.00. It had been on the market for a long time, and even though the realtor had shown it over and over again, there had not been even the hint of a bid. By the time Tom called us, the price of the house had been dropped to $115,000.00. He had once again lowered it in a desperate attempt to sell quickly and finally be free of his ex-wife and her constant harassment. 
Every time Tom asked his realtor if anyone was interested, he heard the same thing. “I’ll be damned if I know why this house hasn’t sold yet Tom, its one of the best deals on the market.” Finally, the realtor suggested putting the house on short sale. When we talked to Tom about this, we could hear and feel the sad resignation in his voice. He was giving up. After a long talk with a lawyer who also advised him that letting the house go was the only way he could be free of his ex-wife, he stopped making payments and allowed his property to slip into a short sale. Tom knew that if the house did not sell after that, the next step would be foreclosure and years of devastatingly ruined credit. 
As soon as Tom’s ex-wife found out that the house had gone into short sale and that her credit would also be threatened, she immediately contacted Tom’s bank and transferred his money to make the payments on the house. As far as Tom knew, he had settled things with the bank years ago making it impossible for his ex-wife to have anything to do with his account. Yet somehow, she was able to convince someone at the bank to give her access. Then she called Tom’s boss and told him that Tom was not making his house payments and was acting extremely irresponsible. She also told Tom’s boss that Tom was addicted to pain medication. Tom had just been through eight months of intensive psychical therapy to correct a spine problem. His doctor had given him a prescription for pain medication, but he was barely taking it. Tom had never believed in taking a lot of medication. 
While we were waiting for Tom to arrive at the house we got out and walked around the front yard. A few minutes later Tom arrived and let us in. As soon as I walked through the front door, I knew why the house had not sold. It was unmistakable. I had only been in the house for moments and I was already becoming depressed. I sat down on the plush brown couch, closed my eyes, and allowed myself to feel the room around me. Within five minutes I was overwhelmed with a horrible desire to end my life. I forced myself to get up and walk into the kitchen where my husband and Tom were standing. I knew that the depressed energy I was picking up on was not Tom’s. In fact, I could barely feel any of Tom’s energy in the house at all. It was as if someone else’s energy had dominated the home so much that they were all I could feel. It permeated the very walls, floor, roof and foundation until it hung in the air like a heavy gray veil all around us.
When I saw my husband leave the kitchen and stop at the bottom of the steps that led upstairs, I went over to where he was. Then I followed his eyes and looked up towards the top of the stairs. I saw a very slim female spirit and as soon as she saw me she said, “You don’t want to come up here”. I told my husband that there was a spirit at the top of the stairs, and he told me that he could see her too. As he described her to me, I knew that we were seeing exactly the same thing. Ignoring the warnings of the kind spirit, we walked slowly up the steps. My legs became heavier and heavier with each step and by the time I reached the top, I was so exhausted that I felt as if I could not walk any further. Both my husband and I noticed that the temperature was at least twenty degrees colder upstairs than it was downstairs and the energy was so dark and cruel that we could barely stand it.
Keeping close by each other for support and comfort, we both quietly walked down the hallway that led to Tom’s room. We looked into his room, but did not go in. We were too afraid to. Then my husband said, “Tom sleeps in here”? After just five minutes we came back down the stairs and joined Tom in the living room.
I asked Tom if his ex-wife ever suffered from depression, and he answered that she did. It was then that I realized that the dark cloud of depression and suicidal tendencies that enveloped even the very core of the home belonged to Tom’s ex-wife. It was the residual energy that had seeped into every inch of the home during the four years that they lived there together. Although Tom’s ex-wife no longer lived in the house, the energy and feeling of her remained so much that I was able to piece together exactly what she looked like and how she had acted. When Tom showed me a photo of her, I said, “That’s the woman I keep seeing in my head”. 
My husband and I said a prayer asking God to change the energy of the home so that it would sell. It was the only thing that we could do. Then we advised Tom to say a prayer everyday asking God to clear his ex-wife’s energy out of the house. I knew from experience that God would help, but I also knew that changing the energy was only part of the problem.
While we had been talking to Tom about his ex-wife, I noticed a very large male spirit pacing back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. By his clothing I could tell that he was from the early 1800’s. He wore old faded overalls, a worn gray shirt, and a large rimmed black hat. He appeared to be in his mid to late thirties. He had broad shoulders, thick curly dark hair, and an unkempt scruffy beard. As he paced, he kept peering at me and my husband. His head tilted and his eyes squinted tightly with a suspicious look that bordered on pure rage and indignation. Then he quickly moved in and shouted, “GET OUT, GET OUT”. I jumped and edged my body closer to my husband. I could hear and feel the anger and frustration in the spirit’s voice. My first impulse was to drop everything and frantically run out of the front door as fast as I could. But instead, I held tighter onto my husband’s arm and forced myself to stay. When I tried to ask the spirit who he was and why he was so angry, his pacing became even more furious and his face appeared ten times more aggressive.
After several attempts to talk to the troubled spirit in Tom’s house, my husband and I gave up. We told Tom that we would ask some of the spirits that we know if they could help, and then we prayed for God’s help too. We could do nothing else. Tom walked us to the door and sadly watched us go.
The next day a spirit friend of ours said that they had found the right person to help Tom. The spirit they had found was Jake. Jake was about six foot eight and must have been considered a virtual giant back in his time. For that matter, he would be considered a giant in our time too. He was so massive that I became frightened and defensive when he first appeared in our home. My fear soon subsided though when I found out how gentle and kind Jake was. I could listen to him for hours as he talked on and on about the old days and his life in the Northern woods of Canada. He was from the late 1700’s and had been born in a small logging town. 
For one month Jake stood by Tom’s side and helped him with the spirit who was trying to stop the sale of his house. At the end of the month, my husband and I went back to Tom’s house to see if there was any difference in the energy and the troubled spirit. This time when I sat on the couch I did not feel the severe depression and suicidal tendencies that I had felt before. Though the energy was still a bit down, it was not even half as bad as it had been just a month ago. The atmosphere was much calmer upstairs too. I asked Tom if he felt any better in the house and he said that the difference was amazing. He no longer dreaded coming home after work and he was sleeping like a baby in his room at night.
Then, I heard the unmistakable sound of someone softly crying. It was coming from a chair in the living room. When I looked at the chair, I could see the faint form of a spirit. When the form became more solid, I knew that it was the same male spirit who had shouted at us to leave the first time we had come to the house. However, this time he appeared so broken and helpless that the fear I had experienced before, transformed immediately to compassion. As soon as he saw me looking at him he said, “Tom will die. Tom will die on the street. Don’t sell the home, don’t sell”. All I could feel inside of myself was a deep sense of connection with this spirit who only a short time ago had almost frightened the life out of me. I was going to be able to talk to him now. I sat there half stunned as I told Tom what the spirit was saying. 
For the next hour I sat on that couch listening to the spirit’s story and telling Tom what he was saying. The spirit said that his name was Ben. In a past life Tom and Ben worked together along with a construction crew building the high steeples of churches. On each steeple was a large stained glass window. As Ben talked, I glanced up at the large cathedral wall and majestic stained glass window that Tom had so thoughtfully included in the building of his home. Then, I looked back at Ben and listened carefully to the rest of the story. Because Ben was intellectually challenged and slow some of the other workers made fun of him and played cruel practical jokes on him. When this happened Tom would become enraged and protect Ben from the other workers. 
One day Tom discovered that Ben did not have a home. He was living beneath a large water damaged oak board in a very seedy and dangerous part of town. So Tom took Ben into the warmth and safety of his own home. Tom and Ben lived and worked together for the next five years. They became so close that people began to think that they were brothers. Then, tragedy struck. Because of their boss’s gambling addiction the construction company that they worked for went into bankruptsy and they both lost their jobs. For weeks they searched for new jobs, but were unable to find anything. When Tom and Ben could no longer pay their rent, their landlord evicted them and sent them both out into the cold and harsh world of life on the streets. After months of homelessness, Tom finally weakened and collapsed. Ben, who was also suffering from malnutrition and the frigid winter air, picked Tom up and carried him to the nearest hospital. When the hospital turned them away, Ben sat with Tom on the cold hard steps until they both froze to death.
After Ben told me this story he sobbed and said, “Please don’t sell house, please.”
It was so clear why Ben had driven potential buyers away from Tom’s house that we just looked at each other with our mouths wide open, not saying a word. Then we both looked at Tom and asked him if he had anywhere else to go if his house sold. Tom said no, but that he was going to start looking for a rental as soon as someone bought his house. “Not good enough,” we said. Tom needed to convince Ben that if his house sold, he would not end up on the streets, hungry and freezing to death. So, for the rest of the day, we all drove down every winding road we could see looking at rentals and calling perspective landlords. We also told Ben that if Tom’s house sold before he could find another place to live, he could surely live with us. We even told him that we would fix up a room for Tom that night. After about four hours of rental hunting, we took Tom back to his house and we left. As we were leaving, Ben walked us to our car and hugged us goodbye.
One week later Tom called ecstatic with the most wonderful news. Someone had put a bid on the house and was going to buy it. We all knew that as soon as Ben realized that Tom was not going to end up homeless, he allowed the house to sell to the next buyer.
Since then, my husband and I have come to realize that Ben is one of Tom’s best and dearest friends through time. Ben protects Tom and stands by his side no matter what happens. Ben has also become a very trusted and welcome friend of ours too.
Now, we often visit Tom at his new spacious and beautiful rental. He lives just five short minutes away from a clear blue ocean with soft white sandy beaches. We walk together there with Tom, Ben, and all of the other wonderful spirits who have become our closest friends and family.