The Red Room






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Team Member K.T. Experience #1:
The Red Room

When I was a teenager, my family moved into a 3-story Victorian house in a small town in Massachusetts. The house itself was a great house and I never ever had any bad vibes from it. The house had originally been owned by one of the most prestigious and wealthiest families in the area. I had my bedroom up on the third floor and so did my next youngest brother. The only other rooms on the third floor were a small bathroom and the Red Room, which was directly across from mine.

All the rooms in the house had a color theme, hence we called the rooms by their color many times. The Red Room was called that because the carpet was a dark, deep red, and the walls angled down like an A frame. Soon after moving in, we found all kinds of neat old stuff in the eaves of the cupboards in the room. We never thought much about it, except that it was a cool treasure find.

The room itself did not have any initial "feeling" for me - but it apparently did for my step-sister (although to this day I don't know if she's even aware of it). She would spend hours and hours playing in that room - I would often hear her talking to an imaginary friend or something. I asked her a couple of times who she was talking to and she'd tell me "no one" yet I knew I'd heard conversation. She would also play her records and create all these little routines to put on "shows" for the family in this room. For quite some time I would say this room was more "her" room than anyone else's. Although on occasion, when the room was empty, I would feel like someone or something was there. I couldn't put my finger on it, but sometimes I just felt like the room was occupied.

One summer when I was about 15 or so the family went on their annual camping trip to the Berkshires. Now those who know me know that MY idea of camping is a nice Hilton somewhere. I've never been overtly fond of bugs and "roughing it", so it was no surprise when I asked if I could stay home by myself for those two weeks. I was old enough now, and my parents agreed. I was jazzed. I was not afraid to be alone, I'd been alone before, and in less than "nice" areas. I'd grown up in the inner city of Boston, and so living in a small town suburb where many other people didn't lock their doors most of the time (even though we did) was not anything that would encourage any kind of fear.

The day of the camping trip finally arrived & everyone took off. I was hanging out next door with my neighbor and best friend, a 27 year old woman with 5 kids. (Yes, I was kind of an unusual kid...) and we were playing cards with her husband and sister, when she suggested I run home & get some stuff and just spend the night over at her house since we were going to be up late. I said ok and went home to pick up some clean clothes, pajamas, personal care items etc. It was about 8 o'clock & starting to get dark, so I turned on lights to each stairway as I went up to the third floor. As I went into my room, and started to pack up a few items, I suddenly had the feeling I was being watched. You know that hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck-standing-up feeling when you just know someone is staring at you? It was very distinct & in spite of the fact that I told myself I must be imagining things, it wouldn't stop. Suddenly my attention was drawn to the doorway across from mine - that of the Red Room.

I had this weird but distinct impression that someone was watching me from that doorway, yet no one was there. I decided I was just spooking myself out, and was determined to stop it. I went over to the Red Room door and closed it tight. (For those of you who don't live on the east coast, doors are made of solid wood unlike in California, and when you close them, they are heavy & stay shut.) I heard the knob click into place, and went back to my room and closed my door as well. I was convinced I had stopped my mind from playing tricks on me, and got my stuff together and proceeded to open the door to leave. What I saw shocked the daylights out of me. The house was dark, all the lights I had turned on were now off.......and there was the door of the Red Room standing wide open.

At this point, in spite of the fact that paranormal stuff didn't normally freak me out, I was absolutely freaked out. The thought that someone else could also be in the house - living or dead - was more than my 15 year old mind could deal with, and I virtually FLEW down the stairs, turning all the lights on as I went and leaving them on as I locked the door. I wound up spending the entire two weeks over at Diane's (my neighbor/friend), only going into the house during the daytime to pick up items or do stuff. For some reason when I was able to check things out in the daylight & knew no living person had entered the house, it made me a lot calmer. After this, I would periodically feel as if someone was watching me, but the feeling was more sad than scary.

After my family returned home, I made it my summertime goal to research the house. This included going to the town library and researching it, going to the local graveyard and checking out tombstones of the previous owners, and finally talking to some of the town's elderly people who may have remembered something about the house or the owners. A lot of people told me that the last of original owners was an old woman who would just sit and stare out the window of the Blue Room on the second floor. The town had pretty much dubbed her a nut case, and thought her behavior odd. Truth was probably more that she was just a lonely old lady, and I didn't feel like she was the one upstairs in the Red Room. One elderly lady I managed to talk to told me a story that the original family also had another daughter who just "disappeared" and the family never talked about again. The woman said that there was "talk" that the daughter was crazy and that the family had either sent her away to be locked up, or even locked her up somewhere in the house. Was this my staring friend from the third floor?

I could never find any actual evidence of this daughter, and I have no idea what ever happened to all the research I did as I moved to California within the year. I do know the presence in the doorway never felt threatening nor did it ever appear to leave the Red Room - almost as if it couldn't get past the doorway. Some years later I moved back to Massachusetts for a short while, and stayed in the house, but in the room that had previous been my brother's. The Red Room door was now padlocked shut, and the room was effectively a storage room. I never had any other experiences with the Red Room, but that one night convinced me that there was indeed someone there; perhaps a mentally troubled soul who was locked up in an upstairs room to protect herself, or others...? I don't really know, but I do know it was one of the more profound paranormal experiences I have felt.