INI was 14, we moved to the elderly CPR house. Things were good for the first 2 nights, then it started. My brother's rocking chair would move by itself for a few minutes, and then began to go all day. We were not allowed to enter the basement, but my brother went down. As soon as we arrived and touched the dirt, everything changed, someone or something threw rocks and broken furniture in us, shouting at us to get out.
Then the situation deteriorated. We heard the movement of the furniture, the pictures flew off the wall. He was scratching on the windows, and when we looked, we saw the faces staring at us. Whatever was in this house, I didn't like me. It would stop me difficult enough to leave the traces. My brother and I got our pastor from our church to borrow us crosses and prayer, we thought we could overcome it. When we approached the basement, we once again arrived halfway, when the shouting began again, shouting to get out. As soon as I touched the grubby floor, the man came in front of me and pushed me back. My brother, feeling that we were not welcome in this house, he caught me outside.
We left this house that night, after just 3 months. We have Movers to get our things. When they got our things, they even said that they felt uncomfortable there and that they thought someone had told them to get out.
