The Banishment of Bob: True Tales of the Paranormal

The Banishment of Bob

By Roxanne Rhoads

I inherited my house from my grandmother. I practically grew up in the house as it is right next door to my parents’ house. The land has been in my family since the 1940’s. As a young teen my mother lived in a small farmhouse on the land. My grandfather tore that house down and built the one I now live in.

Part of my house started as a building in Flint Park. To this day I have no idea which part. My grandfather purchased a structure from the park when they closed; he brought it here, put it on the basement foundation and used it as the starting point of the house.

I often wonder if that part of the house is the source of the “experiences” we have but the one room that we think was the Flint Park building because of differences like electrical outlet placement, building materials, etc. is not the room where the majority of “paranormal activity” occurs.

The main area of activity is my grandmother’s old bedroom. I never remember her actually sleeping in it though. She would sleep in the living room. She seemed to avoid that room.

When I first moved in it was my youngest child’s room. Now that he’s older he has told me about his experiences in that room. He is now 22 and falls asleep during horror movies. I often attribute this to him falling asleep afraid. Now his normal reaction to fear is sleep. Odd I know, but it seems to fit.

When my daughter was born it became her room. And she never slept well in it. I would hear strange noises and crying through the baby monitors only to walk in and find her quiet or asleep. One night my husband heard a noise and walked in there to find all the drawers on the dresser open, yet she was in her bed sound asleep and honestly she was still too small to have opened them all anyway. She couldn’t even reach the top drawer.

She would wake up a lot during the nights and want out of the crib and out that room. Once she big enough to get out of the crib or her toddler bed she would leave her room and crawl in bed with me or go to her big brother and crawl in bed with him. When we changed her to another room she was fine and slept in her own bed.

My youngest…he absolutely refused to have anything to do with that room- ever.

Now the room is my husband’s office and man cave, he seems to be the only one not sensitive to the activity even though he has reported seeing a dark figure walk through the room and stand by the window looking out. 

There have been odd occurrences in other areas of the house as well. Like the basement door that opens by itself, strange things disappear, and then there’s the music that you can hear in a distance, you can never quite make out the words or the tune.

But the incidents that left me the most shaken happened in the same week… in my bedroom.

The one room in the house that has always been a safe haven for me, the room free of creepiness…until the night I was roused from sleep by the creaking of my floorboards.  All around my bedroom the old floors creak when you walk on them. Even I have a hard time avoiding the creaky spots because they all around my bed. I woke up to the sound of someone pacing back and forth at the end of my bed. I could tell the placement and movement of… the whatever it was- by the distinct creaks. I was paralyzed with fear. I knew no one could have been in my room. The door never opened because I immediately wake up when my door opens thanks to the loud scraping sound it makes (yes my old house is full of creaks and scrapes).

I laid there listening to the pacing movement. I tried to listen for anything else- breathing, a voice…but there was nothing. Finally I took a deep breath, gathered my courage and sat up with my eyes open ready to confront it. The sound abruptly stopped. And of course, nothing was there.

A few nights later I awoke to a strange sound. It was kind of a rattling, shaking noise. Non-stop. It just kept shaking. Finally I got up and turned my light on and began to search the room.

I found the sound. It was my bobble head turtle, Bob. His head was shaking like an invisible hand was moving him at warp speed. Yet the rest of him was not moving. Nothing else was moving. Nothing in the room was rattling, vibrating or shaking. Just his head, moving extremely fast.

I stood there in shock and stared at him. Then I grabbed him and stopped his head from moving. I picked him up and looked at him. I shook him really fast. No matter what I did I could not make his head move like it had been. It seemed humanly impossible to replicate that movement.

I took Bob out of the room. He was banished. Now I find him in odd places. I have no idea where he is at this moment. Frankly I don’t care as long as his head never moves like that again.

I don’t know what or who was trying to get my attention that week, nor do I know why. I saged and salted my room. So far nothing else has crept in. I’m all for helping those in need, but contact from the great beyond…I’m not really down with that.

Seriously if something out there has a message for me, I prefer they send an email or just text me.