The Spirit That Needed Permission To Move On

[Haunted]

We have lived here for several years and there are several entities here, but there has always been this certain spirit in my son's room. The spirit was harmless and somehow I always knew that it was a young boy around 10, although he'd never spoken or allowed us to see him.

He was playful, my son would go up to his room and things would just be moved around. He had a candle shaped like a skeleton head that I'd gotten him last Halloween sitting on top of his computer. One night he goes upstairs to find it sitting in the middle of a small table, there was wax drained onto the table like it had been sitting there burning.

My son had laid some change on the table earlier and all of the change was placed in a neat little stack! His pocket knife was also laying on the table and one of the quarters was stuck inside it. None of that stuff was like that when he'd left the room just an hour or so before.

Anyway, things like that were happening all the time, he'd have to look and look to find stuff that wasn't where he'd left it. And, no noone else had been in his room. We could be sitting downstairs in the living room and her footsteps, hear stuff scooting across the floor and hear stuff fall. At times, I could sense him at the bottom of the steps, but he never would come into the hallway.

One night one of my friends was here and we were talking about spirits and we started talking about him. I don't even remember who sensed it first, but the reason he wasn't coming any further than the platform at the bottom of the steps was because he wasn't allowed to.

I just got this really sad feeling, I always knew that he would come to the bottom of the steps and watch us and listen. But, that night I felt his pain, the pain of solitude. He'd been watching us laughing, being a family etc and he'd actually "hurt" wanting to be a part of it. He felt all alone and left out!

While we were sitting there talking, I actually saw him for the first time. Not really him, but a shadow of his head as he'd bent down looking through a fish aquarium into the living room watching us.

I said, "It's ok, you can come in here with us if you want to. You're more than welcome to come downstairs, you don't have to stay up there any more. " From that night on, he's been gone! I'm sure he'd been abused and made to stay upstairs, not allowed to be with the rest of the family.

Somehow me giving him permission to come downstairs gave him the ok to move on. He's free now, no longer confined to his room and I miss him!