Old creepy house built in the 30’s, partial dirt basement with an old stone furnace with many pipes, much like an octopus, going every which way to heat the upstairs. Drafts that came from a crawl space in the side of a wall which you could open by taking a 5×5 piece of wood that was attached and held by two wooden fasteners. It was dank and musty and cool when we deigned to play in there or to retrieve the Christmas decorations. One of those octopus arms came in through one wall of the bedroom and into the other wall where the crawl space was. The steps to the upstairs was creaky and narrow and you really had to watch your way or one could trip which as a child I often did.
The one bedroom down there had two double beds, one sitting along side that crawl space wall and the other facing it. As a 9 year old I have to say my imagination some nights went wild with fear. Did I hear something shuffling along the floor? What was that bang, so light? I felt as though eyes were watching me and my skin had eternal goosebumps. My dreams were nightmares some evenings and then others like heaven sent. My mother in her wisdom had a medicine pouch made for me to put around my neck as I slept. It smelled…like..crazy. I suppose she was tired of me running helter skelter up those crickity stairs in the middle of the night to get away from I don’t know what. By the morning it would be on the floor or under my pillow but never around my neck as she had placed it. She took it away from me considering it a lost cause. By the time I was 16 years old I was tired of this home and went to live with my half brother and his new family, thankfully.
Empathically I was picking up something but having no basis to what was going on in my tired mind, to having no one support me in my child like feelings. Many years now I may having a thought to what it could have been all along. Spirit, perhaps?