By: Cristina Tye
My sister awoke hearing a full-blown conversation echoing through the house in the dead middle of the night. Not just a little kid crying in the middle of the night, but dialogue of a toddler, moving through the halls. It wasn’t until the next morning when I awoke from what I believed was an undisturbed sleep, that my mother told me I had had another episode. I’ve always known that I sleep walk and talk, but this house brought something else out within me. As a kid, I had these episodes of sleep walking and talking, wandering around the house amidst a dream I never recalled. However, my sleep talking since we left that house has reduced to mere mumbled words and phrases.
When I was little, I use to live in an older home in my current hometown outside of Chicago. I lived there until I was 4 years old, so my memories aren’t crystal clear. This brings me back to my sleep walking and talking. My parents still get the chills when they explain my sleeping actions. During one of my episodes, I was actively engaging with someone while in a complete sleep-talking trance. I would sit upright on the end of my bed and talk up a storm with something or someone they couldn’t see. I would talk and talk to a “person” and stare out in front of me, as if I was really talking to someone. As explained by them, this wasn’t a one-time thing. Multiple nights I did this, and multiple nights I carried on the conversation. Although we will never be able to determine whom I was talking to, my parents believed I was talking to someone.
Then, we started encountering some pranks. The thermostat never seemed to stay the right temperature. Numerous times the house would become really cold, and, upon checking the thermostat, the temperature was miraculously changed. It would move down on its own without any warning. No matter how many times my parents moved it back up to a comfortable degree, the thermostat had a mind of its own and changed. They knew this was strange and thought it was most likely just broken, so they decided to replace it with a brand new one. However, that didn’t help the problem, as even the new one would somehow move back to a cold temperature. Again, my parents weren’t exactly sure what was happening, but they were pretty sure something out of the ordinary was doing it.
I must confess the ending of this potential ghost story is anticlimactic. We moved out of the house with little questions answered, but memories that we still consider. We have moved several times since then without experiencing any strange coincidences or sleep-talking conversations, but the possibilities for what occurred in that house are endless.