Although based on a true event, parts are fictionalized. All names have been changed to protect the frightened...umm...innocent. The house looked ordinary enough. A two and a half story brick one family residence. There was a small fenced yard in front with a brick lined walk that led to the arched front entrance. It boasted a larger fenced back yard. A great place for Red, our family's little rat terrier dog, to romp in. A two-story commercial building and another two-story single family stood on each side. Most of the other buildings along the block were brick apartment houses. Yes, it looked quite ordinary the day we rented it. There were six rooms and an attic. The first floor had a large living room, a dining room and a large kitchen. Three bedrooms on the second floor. Ample room for Mom, Dad, my youngest brother Jake, my baby sister Tessa and me. A realtor gave Mom and me the grand tour. Dad was at work. "Mom, this place is big! I like the way the door opens to that hall instead of right into the living room. Oh, and look at this kitchen! Uh oh, it needs some work here. No drain pipes under the sink." I gave it a critical eye. There weren't any water pipes either. Mom turned to the realtor. "Well, I wanted this place but we can't live here with no plumbing." The realtor, a short man of hefty build, shrugged his shoulders and then smiled. "Oh, that's not a problem. I'll have the plumbing put in and I'll even have a new sink installed. You want it, it's yours." He quoted a price for the rent. Mom felt it was a fair price and agreed to rent on a monthly basis. I wondered why the rent was so low. The plumbers installed all the pipes and the sink the day we moved in. What a day that turned out to be! All the family had stopped by to see the house. Tate, my older brother and his wife stayed just long enough to drop off their four kids. My oldest sister Karla and her husband asked us to watch their three while they went to visit his sister in the hospital. And of course, my sister Tessa who was just seven years old. Kids ran in and out through the front door, raced around to the back door and slammed each as they darted through. Nothing unusual in all of that. Our days followed a normal routine, Dad working night shift now on his job, Jake working a dayshift for the same guard company and Mom cooking, cleaning and shopping. Me? I attended beauty school. One evening Mom and I sat in the living room after sending my little sister to bed. A sound from the hall made both of us jump. "What on earth is that? Tessa, are you out of bed? You better get to sleep girl, school in the morning." Mom's voice was stern. No answer, just footsteps. Thu-ump, thump, thu-mp, making their way down the stairs. "Mom, those footsteps are too heavy to be Tessa's! That sounds like a big man walking on those steps". Cold sweat popped out on my brow and my armpits felt damp. Dad was at work and Jake was on a date. We both stood up and moved toward the door but just then the knob turned and the door opened. A cold blast of air filled the room and the door swung shut. Thu-ump, thump, thump, over to the ceiling light. The light went off and then came back on. The chain swayed back and forth. Mom and I stood in shocked silence as the footsteps moved across the room, the door opened and shut. Then the heavy tread sounded on the steps again. Mom bolted to the door and yanked it open. My heart raced like a thoroughbred horse but I darted out behind her. Tessa was alone up there! We followed the footsteps upstairs and they faded by the attic door. Dad got home before Jake and wanted to know why Mom and I looked like we'd seen a ghost. "Frank, that isn't funny! Not after what just happened." Mom told Dad of the nights event. "Lorna, you've been watching too many horror shows. You're letting your imagination run wild." Dad refused to admit that such a thing was possible. Those footsteps became a regular part of our lives. Neither Mom nor I felt any sense of danger so we just accepted it. Day or night, we'd hear the heavy tread making its way down the steps. That door would open and close and always, the cold blast of air in the room. But it didn't stop with just that. No. It picked objects off the mantle and dropped them on the floor as well. One night Dad called from work. "Lorna, send Jake to pick me up from work in about an hour. I can't get a bus tonight. Tell him to leave the door unlocked. It's too dark to see that keyhole and the temperature is freezing." Mom gave Jake the message and he went to get Dad. Tessa had been in bed since ten o'clock. Mom and I were sitting in the living room waiting for Jake and Dad to get in. Thu-ump! Thu-ump-down the stairs. We just looked at each other and grinned. Just our specter again. But this time it walked to the outer door and stopped. Silence. And then the footsteps moved back up the stairs. That was unusual. It's hard to say who reached the door first, Mom or me. She stepped through and looked toward the outer door. The little terrier was squatted down on her rear legs, front legs spread in the attack stance and a deep growl rumbled from her throat as a white froth rolled over her glistening teeth. Someone stood on the other side of that door! "Who's there?" Mom listened for an answer but the only sound was Red's snarl and the click of the doorknob turning. "I asked who's there. Answer me or I'll shoot through the door. I've got a 12 gauge shotgun and my finger's on the trigger!" Her voice was fierce but she had no gun. I dashed to the living room and darted to the qindow. A loud thump pulled my attention to the walkway. A tall, man leaped from the darkness of the shadows, ran to the fence and jumped over, running as his feet hit the ground. I returned to the hall and told mom. "He's gone. I saw him leap the fence and run down the street. Are you going to call the police?" Mom shook her head. "Not unless you got a good look at him. Can you identify him." "No. It was too dark to see his face." The police couldn't find him without a description. A wave of dizziness filled my head and a weakness made my legs rubbery. We returned to the living room and sat down. The scraping of a key inserted in the lock made both of us screech. Then Dad and Jake walked in. "Why did you lock the door? Jake said he left it unlocked." A frown wrinkled Dad's brow. "I didn't lock the door." The words were shaky. That caught Dad's attention. "You're pale and shaking. What happened?" Mom told him and Jake what we'd just been through. "We didn't lock that door but whatever it is that walks up and down these steps did! That's the only explanation I can give. It knew someone was going to break in and it protected us." Yep, Dad did exactly like I thought he would, shook his head, rolled his eyes upward and went up to bed. Jake wanted to know more but there wasn't much to tell so he went to bed too. A good night's sleep seemed like an excellent idea so Mom and I went up to bed as well. We never knew when our specter would make itself known. Mom and I both felt it was male, why, I can't really say but it felt like a male presence. As far as feeling any threat, none of us felt any malice or evil atmosphere from the thing. A cousin of mine came to visit one evening and the sounds of footsteps started while she was there. She listened a minute and said, "I thought Uncle Frank was at work and Jake was out. Who is that on the stairs?" "That," I told her in serious tones, "is our resident ghost." Of course she thought I was joking. "Sure. And in a minute he'll open the door and there'll be a blast of cold air, then he'll yell-BOO." She laughed. Now that, I felt, didn't deserve an answer. Let the specter reply for me. And he did just that. The door opened and shut, a cold blast of air filled the room. My cousin paled by two shades and her eyes widened but she didn't say a word. The footsteps went to the middle of the room, the light went off and then back on. Dear cousin Tilda sat there without a word as the door opened and shut again and the steps retreated back up to the second floor. Tilda put a hand up to her throat, swallowed hard and looked at me in disbelief. "Uh, I think I need to go home now. It's getting late." She stood up and after telling Mom and me goodbye, she left. I don't know who laughed the hardest, me or Mom. But things couldn't go on this way forever. One evening Mom decided to follow the footsteps and I went along with her. Our invisible border paid a visit and we trailed it back upstairs. It led us to the attic door. Then it continued up the attic steps. There was still enough daylight coming through the hall window at the top of the steps for us to see. We followed all the way to the top of the steps. The footfalls continued over to the sloping wall and stopped. Mom went over to stand at the spot. "Look, there's a little door here. I never noticed it before." I gathered up my courage and went to stand next to her. "That's because it's made to look like part of the wall. I wonder what is in there?" "Whatever it is will have to wait. It's getting late. I don't think we should open it now." Mom wasn't ready to check it any further right then. We went back downstairs and talked about it. Our decision was to get a flashlight next day, Monday and my day off at beauty school, and then check it out while Dad was in the house. A clear day let bright sunshine poke golden fingers through the windows. Bolstering our courage and armed with a flashlight we made our way up the attic steps. Dad was asleep, resting for his nightshift job. No reason to fear anything, we knew he was in calling distance if needed. Mom opened the little door and bent down to look but found it was hard to see anything. "My knees are stiff and I can't get down low enough to look in there." I knelt down next to her and reached for the light. "Let me do it. I'm smaller than you and can bend down lower." As I bent down and poked the flashlight into the doorway, it's beam sent mice scurrying for cover. Bright circles of light stabbed at the darkness of that tiny space. This was the space under the eaves of the slightly sloped roof. I saw about four cross beams spanning out toward the outer wall. Between two of these I saw something projecting up. As the light played over it, I realized it was a bony skeletal hand. "Oh my God! Mom, there's a hand over there." "Can you see anything else. Is there a body?" She bent down again but still couldn't see anything. "Hmm, yes. It looks like a whole skeleton is back there. We better wake Dad and have him look." Dad wasn't happy about us waking him but when we told him what we'd found, he checked it himself. Sure enough, it was a skeleton so we called the police to report it. The police removed the skeleton and proceeded to check on previous owners of the house. They found that the body dated back to the years when the house was still new. The man who had built the place had disappeared one day. According to records, his wife claimed that he'd received threatening letters from someone a few weeks before his disappearance. The report stated that she claimed he had burned the letters in anger. He was never found and she moved away. Tests proved the skeletal body was his. Of course it was too late to prosecute anyone for murder. Our ghostly visitor made one more trip down the steps. However, after it opened the door, walked to the center of the room and turned the light on and off, it walked out into the hall and continued to the front door. Mom and I watched as the front door opened and shut. As for the eerie footsteps, we never heard them again.