I lie awake in frozen state feeling the pulsating of my heart as if to protrude piercingly through my chest. My bones become chillier by each passing second. I am speechless; my mouth will not open. I am frozen in time. She is back as in each night past midnight, rocking in her chair by the window in the attic above me. Her very spirit trapped in this eighteenth century home which is no longer her past but now my present. Legend has it that she and her two children were found dead here. Why? No one ever found out.

I hear the slow, chilling motion and creaking of her rocking chair on the old wooden floor as she whispers and hums "Rockaby Baby". I cannot sleep. I want so badly to jump out of bed and run out of this very house that I so love during the day...but I cannot. I am rendered speechless and I am paralyzed in my bed.

The rocking has stopped. It is quiet now. Perhaps she has finally gone to sleep. "What do I do" I ask myself. I will wait a moment longer. Forceful zephyrs come through the window across from me through the transparent sheer curtains. I hear children playing in the front yard. I rise. Yes, finally, I rise and slowly proceed to the window. I do not need to light a candle as the moon is as bright as the sun at this moment. "They are back too", I shiver. The little boy is wearing an Eton suit playing with a stick and a small girl is wearing a bonnet and long dress, with old ragged shoes and playing with a hoop. They seem to be enjoying themselves but this is just too eerie for my eyes to behold. I ask myself " Am I sleepwalking? Am I dreaming?" I proceed down the hallway. The lantern is still lit. I light a candle next to the lantern and continue to walk downstairs. It is still quiet. I don't know whether to sigh with relief or to be on guard for I might hear her again. I am at the landing now and as I continue do go down the next level of steps the old wreath hanging there since I purchased the house falls and almost knocks me down the remaining stairs. My heart begins to pound again. I am again shaking. Do I return to my room or do I run outside where the children are playing. No place seems to be safe here at 77 Malton Road at this hour.

I stand, again, frozen in time, for a few minutes as I contemplate my next move. "Does she want me here or does she want me gone?" I ask myself. Suddenly everything becomes clearer to me. The electrician has not returned after his quick exit when he was unable to update the wiring on Tuesday. I thought it strange that Romex cable, outlets, service boxes, circuit breakers were laying on the floor with no explanation. Did he know or see something I haven't? Perhaps Lilly does not want the house modernized.

It's quiet again. No children are playing outside and no movement or sounds from Lilly Higgins, the previous owner of my historic colonial.

I head back upstairs to try and get some sleep as I ask myself whether I will continue to live here in the house I so love. The grounds are so beautiful with Victorian gardens, old stone walls and walking trails.

I decide, I will go to the library tomorrow and try to research further what transpired in this old place housing several ghosts.