by Dawn Landrum
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The house took it's turns moaning. It got quite irritating. It wasn't like the haunted houses in the movies; violins sqeeling and drums beating to a heart-beat in the backround. When our house moaned it was embarressing, not scarey. especially if we had company. We'd make excuses and reasons to leave.
For some time this went on until one evening when my Aunt Cathy came to visit. Eric and I were playing with our "Super Friend" action figures in my room when we heard a scream. Eyes wide opened we ran to the kitchen where Cathy and mom were making BLTs. Cathy stood with her back against a counter staring at the other counter parallel to her. Mom's eyes were fixed on the same spot. We looked and saw a large knife buried in the side of the counter. Cathy studdered, "I just went to pick it up and it shot over there!" We all left the room, hugged and tried to compose ourselves. This was getting out of control.
I told my mom of the church where Stef went and the feeling I got when I was there. I told her it was an opposite feeling to that of the house that night. I thought we should all go and visit it together. Mom agreed that we would discuss it more with dad when he got home.
My father is a German-bred man with German strength and strict conviction to his own theories. He was never religious, nor was he gentle or calm in nature. So, the idea of "church" was not really an idea he cared to talk about.
Whatever was bothering us made dad angry. It rarely did anything when he was home, so he usually assumed we were exaggerating....until one morning.
Dad awoke from an active dream. He went to rise from bed as usual when he realized he couldn't move. His senses became aware and alert all at once. He had slept with his right forearm resting on the pillow, curved over the top of his head. This is what he couldn't move. It was as though someone was holding his arm tightly down in an invisible arm wrestling match. Now, my father, endowed with brute strength became angry and faught the unseen opponant. He was very irritated that whatever it was, was in fact, messing with him and battling him in a feat of strength.
Dad arrived at the breakfast table late. We stopped eating when we saw the expression on his face. He looked somewhat humbled. He sat down, ate a piece of bacon and said, "Let's look into that church."
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