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Our House on Lake Street
(Events around 1949-1950 - San Francisco, California)

There where two more children born to my family that most people do not know about. I had two half-brothers; Bruce and Roger. They both lived only a few months. I remember the day that they took out the body of one of my brothers. I can not recall which one. The house was very quiet. There was no crying or tears.

We lived on Lake Street in San Francisco, at the time of my brother’s deaths. We had a large house that my father had bought in partnership with my grandma. She lived upstairs. We had the whole downstairs. My step-dad moved in when my mom divorced my dad.

There were many strange things that took place in that house. These happenings just could not be reasonably explain away. It seemed that this old house was either haunted, or was visited by unknown beings of some kind each night.

Someone had died in this house before we had moved in. This was something we learned about after we moved in. There was one room that was always very cold. Not just physically, but emotionally. This was the room that this person had died in. It was also the same room that one brother had died in, as well. The room had a feel of gloom and depression in it. It was just not a good room to be in at all.

Every night while we lived in this house there would be a sound of someone walking down the hallway and into some of the rooms. There was an ever present visitor in our house, every night. You could hear this "person" or whatever it was, very clearly, night after night. You would hear sounds, as if someone were walking past your bedroom door. It about drove my step-dad crazy at first, but my mom would just say that it was our nightly visitor again. 

My step-dad when he first moved in the house, would pull out his hand gun and walk around the house looking for whoever caused those sounds. This activity of his, stopped after a couple of nights with no evidence of any intruders. Why he never found anyone, and why he gave up, I do not know.

We never saw anything ourselves, or remembered seeing anything. I do know that there was someone ,or something, coming and going each night. I am not sure if they stopped and went into any of our rooms. I was very young at the time and remember only pieces of events. I cannot figure out if this "someone" had ever visited any of us. There was a collective non-memory of anything other then knowing that we were visited each night. It was so odd, that we would allow this to continue and passively just go off to sleep until the morning.

I often wondered if more was happening to us then we remember. The strange part was how our parents could sleep through the nights with something wandering around the house were their children helplessly lay in bed alone.

We may have been visited again over the years, even after leaving that house. It just seems that I remember dreams of places and beings, but nothing more than dreams. Anything that might have happened is a long lost, or just a repressed memory. There is no doubt that there was some type of otherworldly activity going on there. No one really explored with me what it might have been. I do remember my step-dad saying that he once saw someone going through a window. It was odd that we did not question all this activity more at the time. We have discussed this a few times with each other, over the years. We all remember it as I have stated, but no one questions the why of it all. My brother and sisters just accept it as a fact. I seem to be the only one wanting to dig beyond the surface of it. At the time, I knew it was really happening and there was nothing we could do to stop the visits. Something happened to me but I am not sure what.

I have this dream, even now of my sisters and brother standing over some lights on a triangle shaped floor with light coming up and all around. Darkness is all that is beyond the lighted area. I feel there are walls of some kind and eyes watching us in the ever present darkness beyond. I am in a box - like a coffin, or something in the middle of this room. It is some kind of place that I know that I have been there before. I got the feeling that I would be returning there again. These dreams were both in the now and the future at the same time. How I know this, I am not sure; but in this dream, I know that as a fact. It is like I am not this person I am watching; I am viewing it all from the past, or the future.

I do not know why I dream this. I do not know why they should surface in relationship to this event in that house. All the facts seem to be hidden somewhere. I do not have any answers; only more dreams and questions. Perhaps, all these dreams are just a by product from the mind of a frightened child. Perhaps, they are nothing more than some long lost repressed event. I do not know. There are holes in my memory. I was a very young child at the time (3 or 4 years old) and memory and dreams are hard to separate clearly. It is as if there are no differences between them, at least as far as my memory recalls.

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