by Kim Bonnalie

Created on: September 03, 2008

I must admit one of my favorite things to study is the paranormal. This is probably because of my personal tie to it. I was born to a mother who was Irish and Cherokee Indian. Quite the combination I am finding out later in life. My mother and father bought a little house right after I was born across the street from my grandparents. The house was built by a man, a family friend of my grandparents it just so happened, for his wife after he returned from war. They lived in the house until his wife died, I am not sure what year. My mother always felt a connection with the house, she described it as "just knowing". She just knew that we were meant to live there.

Well, about a year later while my mother was doing the dishes I sat in the living room by myself. You could easily look from the kitchen through the dining room and into the living room, so my mother could also easily hear what was going on. My mother heard me talking, like I was talking to someone else. At three years old I was having half a conversation. When she asked who it was I replied simply "Helen". Obviously I had no knowledge that this was the name of the woman who the house had been built for, nor did I have any idea how freaked out this made my mother. I went on to tell her that Helen was a little old lady, who looked kind of like grandma and who liked to live in the house.
My mother began to think of the connections. Her Aunt had been known to have psychic abilities, and my mother had always been more sensitive to things than most, so she very quickly accepted that I must have inherited the same amazing abilities. My family quickly embraced the idea of Helen, as I spoke to her all the time. At the age of about 5 however, I stopped talking to Helen. I cannot remember ever having a conversation with her, which is strange, because I can remember many other things from being that young. I have always felt a connection, and I am positive I had that connection with her, yet am baffled as to why it disappeared almost instantly.
Since my family had accepted the presence of Helen, and even embraced her company, I grew up with her. Even after I stopped speaking to her she was a constant companion in my life. Every time the lights would mysteriously go off, or something would be moved when no one moved it, we would literally laugh and tell her to stop it. The lights always came back on. She was a source of entertainment, but also a source of comfort.
The attic of the house was finished when I was about

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