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A woman notices a change in atmosphere after renovating her 1930s bungalow. The house became cold, and she feels uncomfortable. She tries to speak to the ghost.
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A woman notices a change in atmosphere after renovating her 1930s bungalow. The house became cold, and she feels uncomfortable. She tries to speak to the ghost. After dismissing the odd feelings for weeks, the woman decides to take matters into her own hands.
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bungalow renovations from Leslie and Southampton UK. The events, I'm about to tell you happened when we moved into a 1930s, Bungalow. The first significant event happened early on. We have decided to build a small extension onto our property to extend the kitchen as I love to cook. And the current kitchen was a little small. We hired an architect to scope out what we needed When he arrived, he walked into the hallway, hesitated for a second, and then carried on. That was followed by some discussion about what we were looking for in regard to a new build. After that, we walked through the house just as we were walking into the kitchen, there was a huge crashing sound coming from behind us. We both ducked instinctively and then quickly stepped back into the hallway. The loft hatch was swinging to and fro. It had opened on its own or so it seemed. The architect walked back a bit into the hallway and looked curiously up at the aperture. He made some mention of a strong breeze affecting the pressure, and noted that it may have caused the door to swing open. He then asked if there was an access ladder because he wanted to look up in the attic. The house, having been somewhat neglected, didn't have a built in ladder, so I fetched him a stepladder. Then I heard him exclaim from behind me, that the loft hatch had crashed down so violently that the wall was dented. In fact, that Dent can still be seen today. Hi, laughed nervously, and made a joke about how he must be up there, stirring the resident ghost after he poked his head up in the loft space and looked around the house a little more. We sat down and shattered about what he thought we could do afterward. He showed me a few preliminary sketches and left. At that point we had only lived in the house for a few months. There was nothing remarkable. It was just a 1930s, detached bungalow on an ordinary suburban street. And before the incident with the loft hatch and the architect all had been fine after that though. Well, that's when things began to get interesting. Yeah, building work began in early june. The builder frank was working outside digging the foundation for the extension since he was our neighbor. I was quite happy to give him the backdoor key when he went to work with instructions to help himself to the tea and coffee. He never did though, and it wasn't until much later that I found out why on one occasion frank was explaining what he had done that day when the loft hatch once again came crashing down and we both duct frank, after a puzzled look, assured me that he had fixed that hatch for me, and you put a sturdy bolt in place to ensure that it wouldn't happen again, which I didn't. As the building work got underway, odd things began to happen on a regular basis. The house began to develop an atmosphere. What does that mean? It's hard to explain. I began to feel awkward when padding around in the dark. If I woke up in the middle of the night, I began to notice odd noises in other areas of the house. Things that had been misplaced, turned up in weird places. The breeze that the architect had noted when the loft hatch sprung open became more obvious whatever the weather was outside. In short, the house became vaguely uncomfortable to be in, particularly when I was on my own. On one occasion my daughter was shocked to see a dark shape, like a figure standing in the doorway as she watched it ducked and moved out of sight. The only other person in the house at that time had been reading in another room and it wasn't him, naturally. I tried to dismiss it and to think rationally about what was going on. The odd noises could be put down to the building work and the stresses and strains being put on the fabric of the building as for the stray breezes, as for misplaced items turning up in odd places. Well, I'm sure you can think of your own explanation for that. I managed to dismiss the whole thing for weeks. One night I woke up suddenly because I heard a crashing coming from the kitchen frank had been working on the extension out there, and the next day he was due to knock down the old inner wall. The only thing left in the kitchen by that time where the counter, a small table in a chair and a gas cooker, puzzled and a little alarmed. I headed to the kitchen and switched on the lights to see what had fallen. The chair that had been tucked under the table was lying on its side quite a ways from the table. The kitchen is cold to the extent that I could see my breath as I looked around. The strange thing was that despite the oddness of the situation, I felt very calm. Not in at least scared. Yeah. Yeah. I'd wondered for some time if the work on the house may have stirred up a ghost. I found the idea intriguing. So I decided to try to speak to the potential ghost to see what would happen.
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