derivative images

Written by LFN Member Apparitionist

We moved into the ‘old house’ when I was about six years old. It was a grand place with plenty of places, nooks and crannies for kids to hide and play imaginary games. The attic was a special treat full of old trunks where one could find old clothes, memorabilia and odd antic items. It was in the attic where my brother and I found the phone.

It was one of those old models where the ear place hung in a cradle and one had to speak into the mouthpiece on the phone proper. It seemed to still be in working order – the dial turned and the cradle still moved up and down. My brother and I were intrigued with it and brought it downstairs and into our bedroom. We invented many game themes surrounding the old phone – old time detectives, cops and robbers and our favorite which was old time gangsters.

One rainy day we decided to bring the phone into our room.

The first few days the phone was in our room were uneventful but on the fourth day things began to happen.

It was about half past midnight when we were woken up by a ‘clicking.’ We turned on the light but could not find anything remiss in the room except for the fact that the earpiece was off the cradle and laying on top of the dresser. In the old days, striking the cradle by moving it up and down was the way to signal an operator. My brother returned the earpiece to the cradle and we went back to sleep.

This routine continued for a few more nights and we were baffled by how the earpiece was moving off the cradle.

A week then went by without any incident at all but on a stormy night soon thereafter we were awoken by the phone ringing. It rang once and then stopped. Needless to say it frightened the bejesus out of us. My brother wanted to return the phone to the attic but I was too curious and wanted to figure it out. After all nothing bad was happening except the phone fluke.

For the next couple of nights the same thing played out – the phone would ring once and then stop. The oddest thing about that was the ring was quite loud yet no one else in the family heard it. After putting up with this for a while, I decided the next time it rang, I would answer it. So, we waited, sitting in the dark for the phone to ring which was usually around 3:00 am. Right on time the phone rang and I answered it with a weak “hello.” The phone was dead as a doornail. I answered that phone for five nights in a row with no results – just dead silence. My brother was clearly becoming very paranoid with the situation so we decided to bring the phone back to the attic and put it back into the trunk where we found it.

The last night the phone was in our room, it rang one more time. I ignored it but then it rang again so I answered it not expecting any result. This was not to be the case. I spoke into the phone with a confident “hello.” I heard some static and then a man’s voice that said:

“Mary?”

That was enough for us. We didn’t wait until morning but snuck back up into the attic as quietly as we could and put the phone back into the trunk. With the phone out of the room there was no more phenomena.

That was enough for us. We didn’t wait until morning but snuck back up into the attic as quietly as we could and put the phone back into the trunk. With the phone out of the room there was no more phenomena.

Our family lived in that house for about 9 more years and then moved away. Nothing else paranormal ever happened. My brother and I never spoke about the phone but in later years I did some research on the history of the house and found out that the family that lived there had a runaway daughter who never returned home. Her father would sit by the phone every evening waiting for it to ring in hopes he would hear from his child which he never did.

Her name was Mary.