I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
In the back corner, we found something even stranger: an old wooden chest, covered in dust and cobwebs. It was locked, but the lock seemed weak, like it could easily break. Florence begged me to leave it alone, but I was too curious. I forced it open, and what I saw made my heart race.
Inside were old documents, letters written in a language I didn’t understand, and something wrapped in a faded cloth. When I unwrapped it, I froze. It was a small, strange object that didn’t belong in this world. Florence screamed and ran out of the cellar, terrified.
I should have followed her, but I was too deep into it. I put everything back in the chest and closed the door, but the feeling that something had changed wouldn’t leave me. Since that day, things have been different. Strange noises, cold drafts, and shadows moving where they shouldn’t.
Now, I regret opening that door. Florence refuses to go back into the cellar, and I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know what we uncovered, but I fear we’ve let something into our home that we can’t control. Every day, I wish I had just left the door hidden behind the wallpaper, where it belonged.
Now, the cellar remains locked. I’ve sealed the door with heavy boards, hoping that will keep whatever we disturbed at bay. Florence refuses to go near it, and our once happy home feels suffocating with the tension between us. It’s like the house itself has changed, like it’s watching us.
At night, I hear whispers coming from the floor below. I try to convince myself it’s just the wind or my imagination, but deep down, I know something’s wrong. The object I found in the chest haunts my thoughts—I’ve hidden it away, but it’s like it calls to me. Florence says I need to get rid of it, but I’m too afraid to touch it again.
I tried contacting the previous owners, but they didn’t know anything about the hidden room. They had lived here briefly before selling the house. No one in the neighborhood seems to know its history, and records of the house are vague. It’s like this part of the house was meant to stay forgotten.
I keep telling myself everything will be fine if I just leave it alone, but the strange occurrences are getting worse. Lights flicker, doors creak open on their own, and sometimes, I catch glimpses of something moving in the dark corners. It feels like the house is alive—angry that we disturbed its secret.
Florence is talking about moving, and maybe she’s right. But part of me knows that whatever we let out, whatever we disturbed, might not stay behind. And now, I wonder if sealing that door was just the beginning of something far more terrifying.
I never should have opened that door.
Reba McEntire remembers the day she lost her band in a horrific plane crash 32 years ago
Reba McEntire won the Country Music Association’s “best singer” award four times in a row following her breakthrough in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Naturally, she is also honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
However, Reba has also had her fair share of personal traumas, so life has not always been easy for her, even with her amazing profession and wealth.
Reba’s mother Jacqueline, at 93 years old, lost her fight with illness in 2022.
She was completely prepared to pass away and had lived a lovely, long, and healthy life. The country music performer posted on social media, “The cancer may believe it has won the fight, but we’re giving God all the credit for choosing the time for her to go home to Him.”
Jacqueline McEntire’s desire of becoming a professional country singer was always realized when she taught Reba to sing, fulfilling her dream via her daughter.
We all know how much she loved us, and she left knowing how much love she had.Reba remarked, “We have so many amazing memories, but we’re going to miss her.
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Reba is well aware of the suffering associated with loss and grief.
Thirty-two years ago on March 16, she lost her tour manager in a horrific plane crash after a concert, along with seven other band members.
I recall that 1991 day. I heard about the crash on the radio as I was heading to work. I felt my heart skip a beat, thinking that Reba was on the plane too.
She wasn’t, though.
After playing in San Diego on March 16, 1991, Reba and her band were on their way to Fort Wayne, Indiana, for their next tour stop.
At the airport in San Diego, two flights were waiting; Reba, her husband, and manager spent the night in San Diego, while the band members and tour manager traveled on ahead.
Ten miles east of the airport, the first aircraft tragically met its demise.
Reba has frequently honored her deceased friends throughout the years.
She opened out about the day her band broke up in an emotional 2012 interview with Oprah Winfrey.
“Everyone on board was killed when the airplane’s tip struck a rock on the side of Otay Mountain,” McEntire said to Winfrey.
“Our pilot was contacted, and Narvel, Reba’s manager, went to meet with him to inform us of what had occurred. When Narvel returned to my hotel room at two or three in the morning, he informed me that one of the planes had crashed. I said, “Are they okay?” In his words, “I don’t think so.” “But you’re not sure?” I asked. I don’t think so, he said.
Reba remembered the events of the disaster, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Narvel was calling from room to room while holding a phone,” she started, stopping when tears welled up in her eyes. “I apologize, but even after 20 years, it seems like it will never stop hurting,” she remarked. But that chamber is visible to me. Narvel is moving back and forth, as I can see.
It’s been 32 years since the crash. She recently recalled the terrible events of that day by sharing a picture of her band on Instagram.
She shared another homage to her friends in 2020.
“I lost my pals in a plane tragedy 29 years ago today. It seems fitting that Mama passed away on that anniversary,” she writes.
“I am aware that they are all together in Heaven, looking out for one another. Let’s continue to look out for one another while we’re still on this planet and never take a moment for granted to spend with our loved ones.
Soon after, Reba’s admirers rallied behind the country music icon.
Many folks sent prayers and good vibes.
“Reba I’ve always admired your music, our mutual love of horses, and now that I follow you on Instagram.May God bless you and your mother. A fan wrote.
Reba showed once more this year, in 2023, that she still grieves the terrible loss of her pals and that she will never forget them.
She posted a video of the group performing together along with the message, “Their love for music and the stage gives us all the strength to go on.”
I apologize, Reba. You are an amazing woman; stay strong. You make so many people happy that there is a reason God has preserved you on this planet. Keep grinning!
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