When I was maybe 4 or 5 years old, the church where my grandfather worked as a janitor caught on fire, and of course, when he saw the flames—you can see the church from our backyard—he went over to see if he could help.
We all tagged along because, you know, small town, 70's, nothing much happening; a fire was a big deal.
I don't remember what time of the year it was; it wasn't late at night; it was maybe 5 pm-6 pm o'clock.
I distinctly remember seeing imps darting in and out of the crowd.
Now at that time I only thought they were little devils; it was only later in life I saw imps, and it was an ah-ha moment.
They were just running around laughing and pointing at the flames.
No one seemed to notice them.
Maybe this is a good time to mention that the only mental condition I've ever been diagnosed with is social anxiety, generalized anxiety, and attention deficit disorder with hyperactivity.
Going through my daughter's autism journey, there is also a strong possibility that I have Aspergers, but I'm never going to get tested to confirm that.
And I'm an adult survivor of child abuse—physical and mental.
I don't think any of that has any bearing on the fact that our house was very much haunted as witnessed by multiple people in the household and the fact that my cousins and I saw things that had no logical explanation.
