A Voice in the Night

I was brought out of my sleep the other night by a noise that was unnatural to my home. It was about 2:30 in the morning. My children were fast asleep, as was my husband. I lay there for a moment, collecting myself and questioning what had cause me to so abruptly awaken.

As I rubbed the sleep from eyes and sat up, I heard a thin whistle sound from somewhere in my house.

I froze. 

I strained my ears to listen for more.

This time I heard a glutteral groan. It was followed by a broken scream.

First, a quick back story: I believe in the paranormal. I do not, however, believe that it happens very often. I have had experience myself and believe that I am slightly more sensitive to those who have already passed on. BUT I have disproved MYSELF on numerous occasion when noises or shadows have been unaccounted for.

Having said that, last fall we had a little incident that happened involving Ella's room. We ended up having our home blessed and have not been trouble since.

Upon hearing these noises I quickly got out of bed and found my glasses. More noises were issuing from the opposite end of the house. The end my daughters sleep in.

I crept slowly toward Ella's open door. As I stood in the hallway, I paused for a moment to listen. My ears were hindered by the furious beating of my own heart.

I lifted my foot to take a step and heard another chorus of thin whistling.

My hair stood on end and goose bumps erupted on my arms.

I cautiously stepped threw Ella's door, a prayer in my heart for strength against what ever might be lurking in the shadows.

This.

 This is a children's book. 

The buttons play certain animal noises to coincide with the book.

It was in the middle of the floor.

And something was pressing the buttons.

This.

This is the terrifying specter who was laying her FAT kitty self on top of the book, repeatedly pressing various animal noises while she adjusted her kitty paws.

She has been sleeping in Ella's room with her, which is a huge help toward Ella's nervousness at being alone. 

Honestly, nothing in their right mind would want to cross the path of this mean freaking cat.

Dead or undead.

However, we have put the book in the corner of the self where Scarlet won't drag it out every day.

My heart might have a damaged valve.