Knocking in the Attic

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I only have just so many “real life” paranormal tales of my own, so I have invited some friends and other family members to provide guest blogs or tell me their stories and allow me to relate them on my website. In this week’s tale, my good friend, Shanan Collins, provided a true story of something that happened to her when she was a child. Get ready for spooky weirdness.

Knocking in the Attic

Guest blog by Shanan Collins

When, I first heard the knocking in the attic, I had a specific picture in my head of who it was trying to communicate with me. I always pictured her as a typical old witch, like the one in Snow White; which is odd because “she” was never more than a sound.

I lived in a normal house in a boring neighborhood. The only thing that made any of it remarkable was that my room was an addition. It was the only room upstairs and it had its own access into the attic from my walk-in closet.

One afternoon as I was doing homework, I heard a banging noise coming from my closet. I ignored it. The noise, which sounded like someone knocking on the attic floor, became louder. Hesitantly, I went into my closet and listened carefully for any other noises to indicate what type of creature this knocking was coming from. I heard no footsteps, no breathing, but something knocked right above my head.

I ran downstairs and retrieved my mother’s broom. I proceeded to tap on my closet ceiling in a simple sequence.

It was repeated back to me.

Okay, maybe some squirrels have caught on to the knock-knock game. I tapped out a more difficult sequence … it was repeated back to me perfectly. I kept this up for several minutes, always with the same result… something was up there and it was intelligent. I ran as fast as I could downstairs and told my parents who of course thought I was being a bit delusional. They did not believe me.

I heard the knocks infrequently throughout the night. After having gotten no sleep, I persuaded my dad to look in the attic. I was afraid of what might come down, once it was opened up. I was afraid for my Dad. I was afraid that “she” would knock him right off that ladder.

He didn’t find an old witch, or the cause of the knocking, but I was not prepared for what he did find: hundreds of dead birds.

Hundreds.