Treading lightly in haunted home

I knew I should have kept my thoughts to myself; at least while I was inside. The house does not like it when I complain. In fact, I don’t believe the house likes me at all.

It began when I signed a six-month lease to my cute rent house. The neighborhood seemed quite, the landlord was nice and a married couple I know had lived there before. They had nothing bad to say except for a one-time water leak that resulted in a high water bill. Overall, their experience was pleasurable.

The first week I moved in was nothing short of a renter’s nightmare.

After a grueling day of moving furniture I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower. As I turned the water on extra hot I realized it was not heating up. Aggravated and cold I quickly got dressed and inspected the hot water heater. The setting was in a normal range. I immediately called my dad complaining and hoping he had some magic advice that would fix the problem right then and there.

The magic answer he gave me was, “Call your landlord.” The next morning I made the call, unknowing, it was the beginning of many to come. 
I tried not to think about my shower turning into the North Pole, and instead focused on getting my kitchen organized. After two days of cleaning and cooking I decided to wash some dishes despite no hot water.

Ten seconds after the load started, water began to pour out from underneath the dishwasher. I ran across the kitchen, sliding through the water and flipped the switch off.

I could not believe it! I mopped up the water using a patchwork of towels. Call number two was made that night.

After a week of breaking appliances and living like a polar bear I finally had hot water and a rebuilt dishwasher; everything seemed to be all right.

It was a glass of milk that introduced me to the next problem.

One afternoon, the following week, I grabbed the milk carton from the refrigerator and noticed it felt sweaty and warm. Not thinking much about it, I poured a glass and guzzled it down. Why did my milk taste stale and thick? Why isn’t cold?

I began inspecting everything in the refrigerator, and it all seemed OK until I opened the freezer door to find a pool of water in the ice bin.
Call number three.

For the next several days I dined on fast food and Doritos. I was so hungry for a decent meal. I nearly cried when the refurbished refrigerator was delivered.

At this point I wondered why all the appliances didn’t break when my friends lived here. They just moved out a few weeks before I moved in. Was I experiencing bad karma? Was it just a coincidence that all the major appliances began to break at the same time? Or was there more of a ghostly reason? Could I actually be living with a ghost?

I was relieved that a month had passed with no problems. Until one Sunday morning I woke up to a strange smell in my bedroom. The best way to describe it was a dead animal-industrial chemical smell. As the day passed the stronger the smell became. By nightfall the odor filled the room, but strangely didn’t overflow into the hallway; it was only in the bedroom.

I lit candles and turned on the ceiling fan trying to mask the smell so hopefully I would fall asleep. At 3 a.m. I suddenly awoke, so overwhelmed by the smell that I could barely breathe. Although it was 40 degrees outside I opened my bedroom windows and turned the ceiling fan on high.

The next morning the smell had vanished. There was not one lingering hint of odor in the room. I checked the property for a possible answer such as a gas leak, newly fertilized grass or a dead animal, but came up with nothing.

This is the point when I felt my house was haunted. All my friends just laughed at me and called ME crazy. I decided to make a rule of never talking bad about the house, while in the house. Perhaps the ‘ghost’ living there would leave things alone if I stopped complaining about shortcomings of the house and my dislike of the place.

For nearly three months I have been trouble-free. However, I slipped up.

I was at home last week, in the middle of an important phone conversation, when suddenly my call was dropped. This was not the first time this had happened. It was beginning to be a common thing.

Frustrated, I went against my rule and voiced my opinion about how it was the house’s fault. Let’s just say the house got mad.

This week my refrigerator caught on fire and filled the kitchen with smoke. On top of that the heating unit starting making a weird noises.

Coincidence?

You be the judge.

By the way, I did get refurbished refrigerator number three and a repairman will be stopping by to look at the heater.

I better keep my mouth shut. I’m running out of appliances.