The NJ Family Whose House Has Been Terrorized by 'The Watcher' Tells Their Story and It's Horrifying

Source – One night in June 2014, Derek Broaddus had just finished an evening of painting at his new home in Westfield, New Jersey, when he went outside to check the mail. Derek and his wife, Maria, had closed on the six-bedroom house … so there wasn’t much in the mail except a few bills and a white, card-shaped envelope. It was addressed in thick, clunky handwriting to “The New Owner,” and the typed note inside began warmly:

Dearest new neighbor at 657 Boulevard,

Allow me to welcome you to the neighborhood.

 
But as Derek kept reading the letter from his new neighbor, it took a turn. “How did you end up here?” the writer asked. “Did 657 Boulevard call to you with its force within?” The letter went on:

657 Boulevard has been the subject of my family for decades now and as it approaches its 110th birthday, I have been put in charge of watching and waiting for its second coming. My grandfather watched the house in the 1920s and my father watched in the 1960s. It is now my time. Do you know the history of the house? Do you know what lies within the walls of 657 Boulevard? Why are you here? I will find out. …

The Watcher boasted of having learned a lot about the family in the preceding weeks, especially about their children. The letter identified the Broadduses’ three kids by birth order and by their nicknames — the ones Maria had been yelling. “I am pleased to know your names now and the name of the young blood you have brought to me,” it said. “You certainly say their names often.” The letter asked about one child in particular, whom the writer had seen using an easel inside an enclosed porch: “Is she the artist in the family?” …

“You wonder who The Watcher is? Turn around idiots. Maybe you even spoke to me, one of the so called neighbors who has no idea who The Watcher could be. Or maybe you do know and are too scared to tell anyone. Good move.” …

The letter continued:

657 Boulevard is anxious for you to move in. It has been years and years since the young blood ruled the hallways of the house. Have you found all of the secrets it holds yet? Will the young blood play in the basement? Or are they too afraid to go down there alone. I would [be] very afraid if I were them. It is far away from the rest of the house. If you were upstairs you would never hear them scream.

Will they sleep in the attic? Or will you all sleep on the second floor? Who has the bedrooms facing the street? I’ll know as soon as you move in. It will help me to know who is in which bedroom. Then I can plan better. …

Maybe a car accident. Maybe a fire. Maybe something as simple as a mild illness that never seems to go away but makes you fell sick day after day after day after day after day. Maybe the mysterious death of a pet. Loved ones suddenly die. Planes and cars and bicycles crash. Bones break.

I know that is a long excerpt. But believe me, it barely scratches the surface. This is just the SparkNotes version of the absolute descent into Hell that has been the life of this family. Since the day they moved into their dream house on Main St. USA in an idyllic section of an all-American suburb, these letters have been 100 percent Grade A nightmare fuel.

Read the whole article if you have time. Or the stomach for it. But the upshot is that The Watcher seems to know every move they make, inside the house and out. They’ve moved in with grandparents while still paying the nut on a $1.4 million home. They put in on the markets and had interested parties, but every time they disclose the letters the  buyers run for the door, no matter how low the asking price gets. And not only aren’t the neighbors helping them out, they’ve actively blocked an attempt to tear down the place and put up two units on the property so maybe they can recover some of their losses because they say the street might lose some of its charm or whatever.

Worse still, there’s a theory out there that Derek and Maria Broaddus are the ones writing the letters, just to get out of the original purchase. Like any parents would terrorize their young kids due to buyer’s remorse or something. Which I guess is the natural reaction of anyone who’d rather think that than face the truth, that there is one of the most diabolic creeps in the world driving their neighbors stark raving mad for reasons known only to him. Or her.

This is why I prefer my horror movies completely implausible. Give me witches and zombies and the words “GET OUT” written in blood on the walls any day over actual human monsters. Because realizing the horrifying shit our fellow human beings are capable of is much, much scarier. Best of luck to the Broadduses. But you wouldn’t catch me signing a Purchase & Sale on 657 Boulevard if they were giving it to me for free.