iiit's BOSS!

I lived in a haunted house for one year of my married life. The Amityville house, as I refer to it now in conversation, was a rental house that we found near The Master's parents and we knew that it would be perfect for our horses and animals.
It was a small, clapboard house built in 1900 and was home to the Waldrop family for many years. Mr. Waldrop had a small farm with several chicken houses, a mule barn, sheds, and hog pens. After the Waldrop's passed away, they left their home and land to their children, Lucille and Wilton. Lucille kept to herself most of her life, teaching school and attending church every Sunday. Wilton, a World War veteran, worked hard most of his life in the cotton mill and farmed some of his father's land in his later years, planting corn and helping Lucille keep up the homestead. When Lucille inherited the house, Wilton stayed with her since she was single and he was a bachelor himself.
Wilton finally met a girl after his time in service and returned home in hopes to marry his hometown sweetheart. By this time, Lucille had reached "old maid" status and cringed at the thought of Wilton bringing a third party into their household.
Wilton asked his sister if he and his bride-to-be could live together with her in the house and of course, Lucille refused.
When he broke the news to his fiancee, things just seemed to roll down hill. Wilton's engagement was called off, time at work seemed more and more mundane and the prized cornfield (envy of the tri-county area) started to dry up after weeks of neglect. Soon after the disappointing break-up, Wilton's fiancee had begun to see another man from the community. Word spread that they were to be married.
Life seemed to unbearable. Wilton couldn't bear to live the rest of his life single, in the small house with only his sister as his company.
Years of frustration and depression set in and followed Wilton until the day he died.
At 3:00 p.m. on September 23, 1966, Wilton Waldrop put a gun to his head and took his life.
Lucille, returning home from school, found him in an armchair beside the front door.
After the funeral, Lucille decided she'd had enough death and disarray and closed off the front two rooms of the house. The doors would not be opened again until 2001.
For two years after Lucille passed away in 2001, the house remained empty. Since there was no remaining family, the house was left to a neighbor who eventually decided to rent it for extra money.
The first to rent the house were The Master and myself. Oblivious to the events that had happened some 35 years ago, we moved in and opened up the front rooms allowing them to breathe after being shut up for so long.
The house breathed too...and that's when it all started to happen.