The third house.

The first of three stories from Glenn.

This story starts with my family moving to our third house in the town of Akrington.

It was 1989, I was 16, had left school and had just started art college.

My parents were doing well with their businesses, they owned a shop,

and my dad had also become a very successful salesman for a big company.

They had wanted to move for a while and we finally made the move into a semi-detached house

in a delightful housing estate just on the outskirts of town.

It was a much nicer area, we could see fields and trees and the neighborhood was nice.

The house was only 11 years old when we moved into it,

and my mum declared it to be not haunted, and it wasn't, for a few years at least.

Flash forward to 1993 into what was going to be a very tough year ahead for my family.

My dad was diagnosed with cancer, and although I don't necessarily think that had

anything to do with it, I did find the house suddenly undergoing paranormal activity.

I was around 20 by this time.

Now, at this point in my life, I was very much a heavy metal fan.

I had a long hair, I had the t-shirts, cowboy boots, and studded jackets.

There was a late-night metal music show that I used to like watching at the weekend,

but it was on at 3 in the morning, and so every Friday night I would record it on our VCR

and watch it the next morning. This is before we had MTV.

So, this one night, I waited for my parents to go to bed, and after they had, I took my VHS

tape and went to head downstairs to program the VCR for my show.

...