Living In The River House... Part 2

Shortly after moving in the River House, I discovered that there was a calico wild cat living under the shed. I got to know her and I called her Kitty. She became a awesome cat. She got pregnant and bore four kittens in the chicken coup. Kitty was a awesome hunter, she even hunted a full sized rabbit once, and fed it to her kittens. It was like something out of national geographic or something because there was fur and blood everywhere! Her wild kittens would follow her into the woods and into the cornfield, all four in a row. Kitty did not care for dogs! One day a pack of wild dogs came onto the edge of our property. I sat on the porch watching. She and the kittens lit up their fur and she actually chased them away! So then on, she was known as our guard cat. At night, I heard a scratching on the window of my bedroom while I was in bed. I was almost too scared to move, until I heard a meow. It was Kitty, on the roof of the front porch! How she got there, I had no idea. I ended up having to let her in because she wouldn't go away. I have no idea how she got on that roof because it was so tall.

As I lived in that house, my siblings and I had basically nothing to do. We had no friends, and no cable. We explored the woods, and we would walk down the road to visit a field that had ponies. Or down the other way, to visit a Morgan horse in her pasture. We discovered a small run down empty house to explore. I would tell my younger siblings that it was haunted and I would scare them about it. It was hard to walk through because of all the plants and things grown around it, and in it. But that was all we could do until my dad put up a tire swing in our yard.

About the house, I never felt easy in it, unless I was in my bedroom. I had it looking so pretty and clean, my room was the only one to have a temple picture in it, because I got it when I went for baptisms. It made me feel safer, I also kind of blessed it in my own way. As for the rest of the house, it never was blessed. My parents were active in church but not fully converted. I had only been a member for a little more than a year at this time and before it, I didn't pray or know anything about any kind of church. My dad was a truck driver and we hardly seen him. At night all of my siblings and I would usually sleep with my mom, down in her room. Nobody liked being upstairs alone. One night when I was sleeping upstairs in my bed, I heard my mom yelling down in the hallway. I got up and came down the stairs quickly. All of the lights were off, and it was super foggy outside. Couldn't see past the porch. Our front door was covered in glass and had no curtains on it. I didn't see anything through it, but my mom was holding a shot gun and pointing it towards it. She told me to go to bed. And she was rude about it, and so I did, but I didn't sleep, I just assumed it was wild dogs again.

In the morning, I asked her, "what happened?" She said she was in her bed, (her room was covered in windows too, with no curtains) and she heard someone outside. So she looked out the window and she saw a shadow of a man down by our tree. So she grabbed for a gun and by that time, he was on the porch. He was a lost drunken black man who wanted inside for some reason. She didn't open the door, she didn't have too. When she told him she had called the cops and she will shoot him if he didn't go away, he got the hint and left. We never found out who he was. If he knew anything about the local police, we had just one fat lazy sheriff that would take him a hour or more to arrive, if he was called. Living in that house was scary without my dad, for all of us. But my mom would never admit to it, just never! Even when she had to have heard the stuff we did! To Be Continued....