Sometimes I think my house is haunted. I’ll be sitting at home alone, and for some strange reason, I’ll hear someone walking up the stairs of my front porch. I’ll wait for that someone to knock or ring the doorbell. But no one does. When I look out the front door, there’s no one there! This has happened to me several times. Once, I hurried to the window when I heard the first footstep. I was so sure I would see whomever was coming up the stairs. But again, there was no one there. That was pretty scary! Of course, I’d probably get scared if I saw a the police or fire department at my house, too.

I tried to forget about the footsteps on my front porch. But, then, one day, my son told he was home alone and he heard footsteps on the front porch. He thought I was coming home, so he went to open the front door. But no one was there! He said he heard the footsteps on several occasions, but this was the first time he told me. He said it felt kind of creepy. He also told me that sometimes when he’s home alone on the first floor, he hears footsteps upstairs. I told him that sounded kind of scary, but I didn’t admit to him that I had also heard the footsteps upstairs. I’m beginning to believe my house is haunted.

I’m not a fraidy cat. Really, I’m not!  But sometimes eerie things happen around me. Things that scare me. Especially when I’m all alone, after dark. One night as I was sleeping, I was roused from my sleep by someone talking. Did I mention it was really dark? Well, it was so dark because the street lights were out, so I was really scared. As soon as I woke up, the talking stopped. I was beginning to theorize that the ghost didn’t want to talk while I was awake. But then I realized that I was talking in my sleep again. I got scared for nothing!

When I used to live in Marquette Park, I used to go running early in the morning before I went to work. Some mornings I ran at about 5:00 am. It was always dark when I ran. Running at that time was good exercise for me because sometimes the drunks coming home from the bars at that time would swear at me because they thought I was crazy for running so early in the morning. Sometimes, I got to do other exercises besides running. Some drunks were so personally offended by my running that they would throw beer bottles at me and I would have to dodge them. Needless to say, my morning runs were never boring.

But that wasn’t the spooky thing I wanted to tell you. Usually, there was no one out when I ran in the morning. Once in a while, I would see a family, a mother, a father, a son, and a daughter, all dressed up like they were going to church or a fancy party, waiting for the bus. I would only see them when I ran eastbound on 71st Street. They would be standing on the corner of 71st and Sacramento, waiting for the bus. I mean no one ever waited for the bus there at that hour dressed like that, especially not an entire family.

The very first time I saw them, I just caught them out of the corner of my eye. At first, I thought I was just imagining the family, but when I turned my head to get a good look at them, there was no one there! I had just imagined them! But, wait! When I turned my head forward again, I saw them out of my corner of my eye again. This really creeped me out, if you know what I mean.  I just kept running and tried to forget about the family waiting for the bus. And I forgot about them for a while, but then I saw them again. However, I never saw them when I looked directly at them; I could only see them out of the corner of my eye, and only when it was dark.

I told a few of my friends about my vision. Most of them laughed and said I was crazy. In fact, no matter what I told these friends, they always told me I was crazy. Some friends, huh? So why did I tell them in the first place? I just had to tell someone. I didn’t want to go to my grave withholding this secret from the world. Finally, I told someone who thought that maybe I saw the ghosts of a family who was killed on that corner, perhaps in a car accident. I thought it was possible, but I don’t really believe in such things. Of course, I wouldn’t rule it out, either. Just to be on the safe side, I never ran across the street near the bus stop where the family stood. Over the next few years, I would see this family periodically when I ran early in the morning. A couple of years ago, I saw them while I was driving eastbound down 71st Street about 5:00 am. I’ve just learned to accept their presence and move on with my life. I wonder if they’ll ever catch the bus they’re waiting for.

I suppose this all started when I was a little boy and my mother used to scare me so I would behave well. She would tell me scary things to prevent me from doing something I wasn’t supposed to do. I would actually hear my mother’s voice scolding me, even when she wasn’t around. Once, when I was riding my bike, I knew exactly how far I could ride my bike, but I decided I would cross that imaginary line. Immediately, I heard my mother yelling, “¡David! ¿A dónde vas?” So I turned around expecting to see my mother. But there was no one there! I had only heard her voice! And I was so sure that I had not imagined my mother being there.

Of course, my mother told me that if I stayed out after dark, I might not get back home. Alive. Ever. She didn’t want to have to worry about me coming home late, so she told me if I stayed out too late la llorona would get me and I would never come home again. La llorona, according to my mother, was a dead woman who wandered the land looking for wayward, disobedient children to take as her own; she had killed her own children, so she would never rest in peace until she found her own children. This was pretty scary stuff for a ten year old! Anyway, one day, I was at my friend’s house until after dark. I was scared because I knew la llorona would be looking for me. As I was walking home, I kept a watchful eye for la llorona. Suddenly, some boys who lived on my block ran past me, yelling, “Run! Run!” I was sure la llorona was chasing them! But I just froze dead in my tracks. Just then, I felt someone grab my arm from behind! I knew I was a goner. La llorona had caught me! I regretted not listening to my mother when I felt that cold icy hand grabbing my arm.

Then the grip on my arm tightened and I heard a male voice say, “Run! You were supposed to run!” I looked back and I was being held by a Chicago police officer. I was out after curfew. “Run!” he said. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to run when you see the police? Run!” So, I ran home and never stayed out past curfew again!