Since we’re on the topic of creepy….
The house I live in is a 107 year old farmhouse that was recently renovated from floor to ceiling including the basement. The upstairs has 3 bedrooms and a bathroom so tiny that an average sized person would probably have trouble fitting inside with the door closed. The main floor has a large bathroom, kitchen and kitchen dining area, dining room, living room, my office and the mudroom off of the back of the house. The basement is finished with a ceramic tile floor similar to what you would see in a foyer which includes my laundry room. The area in the basement isn’t used as living space, instead it houses my library of about 2000 books some of which are part of my private collection while others are used to buy, sell and trade online when I’m not employed outside of the house. The basement also has a enclosed furnace room and storage area which isn’t finished, the crawl space below the basement stairs where boxes of unappraised books await my attention and then of course, the room off of the book room where the washer and dryer are.
The wall behind the washer and dryer only goes half way down then opens to a very dark space. I’ve never been back there so I don’t know the ceiling height but I can see far enough to know that it goes back at least 5 to 6 feet if not farther.
In every respect I like this house and I’m very comfortable here but I don’t like that space not even just a little bit. I’ve lived alone with my kids since forever so I’m not generally afraid of anything… ever but I find myself unwilling to wash clothes at night because I don’t want to be near the creepy space. At times I’ve even considered asking my son to come downstairs with me which he would do without teasing me but I’d feel ridiculous and wouldn’t permit myself to act on something so childish.
Yesterday I went down stairs to switch loads and our cat Lilly was sitting in between the 2 machines staring into the dark space. I felt my heart climb up my throat but I proceeded with what needed to be done despite wanting to scream and run up the stairs like a 5 year old. When I turned around with the sorted clothes the cat was gone which was a relief because his staring seemed to validate in mind that something was back there…I reminded myself that it probably nothing more than a spider.
As I finished my laundry room business the cat suddenly sprang out from dark space leaping over a small waste basket before he landed in the middle of the laundry room then ran like a bat out of hell upstairs. My bones turned to rubber and the only thing that prevented me from screaming at the top of my lungs was the fact that I slapped my hand over my mouth the moment the cat went airborne.