Almost eight years ago, I flew to Sacramento to visit my sister several months after my niece was born. My sister and her now ex had bought a house in a nice, older neighborhood. My sister mentioned that a couple of weird things had happened, such as finding rocks on things they had not placed rocks on and sometimes sensing a presence. They assumed it was either nothing or perhaps the former owner of the house, Keith. He hadn’t died there, but had lived there a long time and maybe had an attachment to the house.
I had been to the house a number of times but had never noticed anything odd. Things were a little different on this visit. My mom and sister picked me up at the airport and upon arrival to the house, we were talking in the entry way. Suddenly, I felt a strong whoosh of energy go through my body and “felt” the name “Keith.” I have only experienced this type of energy one time since. It’s as if something walked through me and told me who was walking through. Though it did not fit into the current conversation, I blurted out “Keith is here!” My mom and sister asked why I said that, and I tried to describe what happened, though words don’t really capture the feeling of it. After that, we carried on with the rest of our day as if nothing had happened.
Later, my sister asked if I would talk to Keith, since she didn’t really want him in the baby’s room. I didn’t really know what to do, but I did sit in the baby’s room and talk to him, letting him know that we were aware of him, and that we would like him to stay out of the baby’s room and to not scare people. I doubt that did anything, but I tried.
A couple of mornings later, my mom and I, who were sharing a bed in the guest room, were awakened by a voice. It was loud and garbled, and could be heard throughout the house. We looked at each other and went straight downstairs to the kitchen to see what it might have been. My sister had come down to the kitchen as well, thinking that my mom and I had been making weird noises and wondered what we’d been up to. We checked on the baby, and she was fast asleep, but thought maybe she made an odd sound that the baby monitor picked up. However, we weren’t really satisfied with the baby monitor theory, given how loud and unbabylike the voice had been.
After the discussion about the voice, my mom walked over to the sink to start getting coffee ready, now that we were all awake. She looked in the sink, looked at us, and asked “Who put this broken hanger in the sink?” We looked in the sink and in it was a pink plastic baby clothes hanger that had been broken in half. Having just heard the odd voice, seeing the hanger was spooky. Of course, none of us had broken a hanger and left it in the sink. We asked my sister’s husband if he had broken a hanger; he knew nothing about it.
To this day, we don’t know how or why a broken clothes hanger happened to make its way to the kitchen sink. Or what the creepy voice was. And the baby monitor theory has since been proven a poor one, since my sister has recently e heard that loud, garbled voice in the house she lives in now, without a baby monitor. The mystery lives on!