The Kent House

The old Kent house is located between Radisson and Fielding. The house looks like the normal old abandon farm house, yet this one was just a little bit creepier. Every time you drive by you get the goosebumps just looking at it and no matter what time of day it is, dark or light, you still get the same feeling. The windows are shattered and cracked, the walls creek in the wind and The house that stands three stories high with old, reddish-brown bricks all along the sides, compliment the haunted stories that come along with the house.



Even from when I was a little girl, I always remember the crazy stories my Grandpa would tell me and my sister about the old Kent house. Being young little girls, no one wanted to scare us about anything. Grandpa was different. He told us the truth, all of the time no matter what it was, we got the truth. When we would go for grain truck rides with him, or just a family trip out to the field to check crops, we would have to pass the old Kent house. Every time we passed that farm, he would tell us a different story about the people who used to live there or the time him and his friends went to explore when he was a youngster. But the time I will never forget, is the one when we went to explore ourselves....



I was 12 going on 13 and my sister just a few years older then me, and Grandpa promised he would take us on a surprise adventure once the snow melted. I remember looking out the window at the puddles laying in the drive way and the first thing I did was call Grandpa up. In a matter of thirty minutes we were on our way to the Kent house. Grandpa did his pep talk on the way about no screaming in his old ears, or running any faster than him, things we already knew. We pulled up to the old house, me and my sister immediately grabbed hands before we even got out of the truck. Even walking into the house was scary enough, but once we got into the house it all changed. All the nerves just went away and it felt like I walked into a normal, lived in house. We went all through the house, to the very top floor and all the way to the basement, no scares at all. We carried on our journey through the house, out to the old bins and even Grandpa didn't seem to scared. We were pretty disappointed really, all of the stories he used to tell us, they all seemed so scary. Just when we thought it was all over, we went for one last walk to the barn which was weirdly far from the house. As soon as we walked in the barn it got extremely cold, the little hairs on me arms stood up and my sister reached for my hand. The nice, hot day suddenly turned into a mess. It almost seemed like there was a tornado going on, but inside the barn. The random pieces of straw flew all around us, the old creaky doors were crushed to pieces by the crazy strong winds and it almost seemed like the whole building was going to fall over. Grandpa, my sister and I dove to the ground and huddled in a circle. After about five minutes of things being thrown around by the gusts of wind, it got suddenly quiet. Dead silent, with not a little bit of breeze. All I could hear was the breathing of my old grandpa and my own deep heart beat. We slowing got up off our knees and made our way quickly to the exit. As we were leaving I looked back into the barn, all I could see was a swinging rope that hung from the ceiling..