I was about 14. I had gotten permission from my parents to spend a weekend at a friend's (let's call her Cindy) house a few hours away in Escalante, UT. I remember being driven through town, face pressed against the window, gawking at the beautiful o
ld adobe houses. I've always loved places with history, and Escalante seemed to brim with echos of the old west. I was positively thrilled to find that one such house was where Cindy lived, and where I'd be staying.
ld adobe houses. I've always loved places with history, and Escalante seemed to brim with echos of the old west. I was positively thrilled to find that one such house was where Cindy lived, and where I'd be staying.
This house had to have been around 90-100 years old. The floors and doors were creaky. The windows were clouded with age. There was even a creepy basement. I was in heaven.
Cindy was in her early twenties, and the only "adult" around. Her younger sister was there, as well as another friend. We didn't do anything crazy besides eat junk food and stay up late watching silly movies. At one point we went to a rodeo, which I absolutely hated. I would have been pretty content to sit and read the whole weekend. One of the afternoons, I opted out of a walk to the store in favor of burying my face in a book. I was the only one who stayed behind, and I was relieved to have a few quiet moments alone.
I was sitting on the floor in the living room of the home. It was dead silent. Then I heard a faint creak. I didn't look up from my book. "This house is old, and old houses make noises," I told myself. To my right was a short hallway where the door to Cindy's bedroom was open wide. Suddenly the door slammed shut with a BANG. My head snapped up, and my breath stuck in my throat. I continued to try and rationalize. "The window is probably open and a gust of wind blew it shut. Yeah, that's it." I shook it off and returned to my reading. A few minutes pass. Then I hear what sounds like a doorknob turning. I again look up at the door and to my shock, it is slowly opening. I freeze.
As soon as Cindy and the others returned, I frantically recounted what had happened. They teased me relentlessly, and I was completely embarrassed. I fell out of touch with them through the years, and it's not a story I've told many, for fear of a similar reaction.
I've rehashed these details in my head for the past 20 years. Here's a possible non-paranormal explanation: there were multiple windows open in the home, and a cross breeze slammed the door shut and the doorknob, being nearly as old as the house, had malfunctioned to the point where it would not stay latched. Then, another faint breeze came through from a different open window, and slowly pushed the door ajar. Maybe? Any thoughts?
Whether the event was paranormal or not, I will never forget it.
Thanks for reading. I've been on this site a few times to read your experiences, but this is my first post.
Blessed Be!
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