By: TealTinted@aol.com
 
 

My mother's grandmother was always proud of my mother.  Being the first in
her class, the first in every track race in the state of Pennsylvania, and
the first-born grandchild, my mother held a special place in her heart.  When
my mother got married and later became pregnant with me, my great grandmother
was overjoyed.  She spent countless hours on the phone with my mother,
discussing names, wallpapers, toys and even colleges for her first
great-grandchild.  Sometimes my mother thought that she was more excited to
have me than herself.
When the time came for me to be born, my mother called her grandmother before
anybody, including the doctor and my father.  After eight hours in labour, my
mother was handed a baby girl (who looked more like Winston Churchill than
Emily Lewis) wrapped in the tiny yellow blanket that my great grandmother
made for me.  A knock came on the door and my mother called out "Come in!,"
expecting my father.  In walked my great grandmother, who lived in
Yugoslavia.  My mother was overjoyed and held me up so that she could see me.
 My great grandmother smiled one of those smiles that only grandmothers can
give, her old wrinkled face soft and glowing with pride, and then walked out
of the room.
The next day my parents took me home, where my mother received a devastating
phone call.  My great grandmother had died peacefully in her sleep the day
before.  In her hand was cradled a wooden baby rattle she intended to give to
me when she arrived in America the following week.
 

Haunted in Maryland
 

By: TLSCHOBERT@aol.com
 

I just typed part of this story but got cut off so if this is sent twice- I'm
sorry. There have been quite a few strange experiances in the lives of my
sister and I. Here are a few of them. When I was very small we lived in a
three story row house in Baltimore MD. All of the floors and stairway were
creaky and wooden. The stairs started from the living room, up and the
landing was right outside my bedroom. In fact my bed was directly across from
it. Whenever someone would go up the stairs each stair would creak and the
landing would creak twice when stepped up on. Every night after everyone was
in bed i would hear someone coming up the stairs. I would call for my mother
and she would always say that it was the house settleing. Which sounds
reasonable but the stairs wouldn't settle from the bottom to the top in the
right order once and then the landing always creak twice like someones weight
was on it. One night I heard someone coming up the stairs (which I had gotton
pretty used to) and up on the landing. but then I heard one of the
floorboards betweent tne bedroom door and my bed creak. Then I felt someone
sit on the edge of my bed. I couldn't see them but I felt my bed go down and
the springs squeaked. I screamed till my dad came in. (My dad says that he
always thought that house was haunted and he has his own story to tell- let
me tell you). I never felt anyone on my bed again but I heard those stairs
every night we lived in that house. After that house we moved to California.
We lived in a couple of places before my parents bought a house in Anaheim.
One time my sister was sitting in the hallway right in front of my closed
bedroom door. She was looking down occupied with whatever she was doing (she
was about 9 or 10 when this happened). She said that I came up behind her,
rudely said "Get out of my way!", opened the door, went in and slammed the
door behind me. When the door slammed she happened to look up thru the glass
door into the backyard and saw me playing with Tia our little dog. So she
came out and asked me if I had just gone into my room. I said she was nuts
because she could plainly see i was outside. She told me what happened so we
went into my room and of course no one was there. We were latch key kids so
we were home alone.(This was right after school). That was pretty creepy but
the only thing that happened in that house. She still gets weirded out about
that 11 years later. The most haunted place we ever lived in was about 5
years ago in Burbank CA. I wish I could give the address so you could go see
for yourself but I don't want to get sued by the owners or something. It was
this house that we rented from some people who had to move to San Francisco
right away but didn't want to sell their house. This time it was just me, my
mom and my sister. My parents had since divorced. It was a weird looking
house any way. Not like a typical haunted house but it just had something
really odd about it. We felt kind of creepy about it the first time we saw it
but it was in my moms price range and that is not easy in LA. So we moved in.
The first couple weeks nothing really happened. Than all of the suddened we
started hearing someone walking fast down the hallway past all of our
bedrooms and into the bathroom where they would slam the door. The floors in
this house were creaky and wooden too.(Notice a trend?) Any way the first
night my mom called out from her room to us to see why we had done that. Well
I know that I was still in my bed and my sister called back that it wasn't
her either. This happened a lot. Well by this time I was 18 and I had a very
serious boyfriend (now my hubby) so I stayed the night at his place a lot.
Cool mom huh? Any way from what I was told one night my mom said at about 1am
she heard the front door shut and a female voice say "HI!". She thought I had
come home so she came in my room to see if anything was wrong for coming home
early and I was not there. She looked out front for my truck which also was
not there. Well, I can tell you it wasn't me! Another time my sister was
getting ready for school in her room. She walked out into the living room to
leave and she said there was a man sitting in the rocking chair. She just
stood there staring at him and he stood up, looked right at her and
dissapeared. She said the chair was still rocking as if someone had just
gotten out of it. The front door locked from the inside with a key and the
key was in her hand. Nobody could have just walked in. The last experiance we
had was about a month later. We were sitting in the  den one night watching
tv. One of those ads for 40's style music collection cd's came on. They
started to play samples of the songs and from the dining room behind us we
heard a woman singing along. Well since we were all sitting on the couch
together it wasn't one of us. About a week or so after that night was the
Northridge Earthquake and we didn't hear anything after that. Then again
about two weeks after the quake the owners contacted us to say they wanted
thier house back so we moved out. I don't know if anything is still going on
in that house but I do know that the owners sold it less than a year later.
My sister stills lives right down the street from that house and it is still
as creepy looking as always. I havn't had anything happen to me since then (
I moved to San Deigo) but my sister has had some strange things happen in her
apartment. It was used as a sort of military housing for families in WW2. But
nothing like the experiances mentioned above! Anyway that is my story- sorry
so long!

What's Happening In My House?
 

By: Bsc45@aol.com
 
 

 I live in a very old house with a
history I know little of except it dates back to before the Civil War.
I don't think my "friend" is someone who lived in the house before but
someone who knows me and what is in my heart.  Sometimes, I think I catch a
glimpse of a person standing down the hall out of the corner of my eye.  It
doesn't register that I have seen something until I have walked on.  When I
turn around to look, of course, there is nothing to see.
As I mentioned in my first letter, I was 17 the first time I experienced
seeing a spirit.  My grandfather had died a few weeks earlier.  One Sunday
the family was having lunch with my grandmother.  I was fixing drinks and
turned to see him sitting in his favorite chair.  In the time it took me to
say something to someone, he was gone.  I had no more experiences for about
20 years that I can recall.
I saw a woman on two separate occasions.  The first time my neighbor saw her
at the same time.  I never saw her again but always felt her presence after
that.  Does that make sense?  I have since moved from that house.  One night,
while still living there, I was having trouble sleeping.  I was hot and I had
kicked the covers off.  I heard a noise in the living room.  (It was the day
after Christmas and a few empty boxes were still in the floor.) I thought my
cat was playing with the boxes and dismissed it until a woman leaned over my
bed, pulled the covers up and said to me "I'm sorry to wake you but you were
cold." I can't say if she walked away or vanished but she was gone.  I heard
the boxes move again.  This was not the same woman I saw previously.  I have
no idea who she was.  Her head was covered in a turban-like hat.  She had a
very soothing but indistinct voice.  This was not a dream.  I was fully awake
at the time!
 

By: cdilts5@avonil.net

  I belong to a club here on the internet and 2 of my friends recommended your site to me.  We, my husband and I, have lived in this 100 yr old house for 7 yrs now.  We first noticed something wasn't right in here when we heard music playing.  That was first and then came someone running across our floor upstairs.  It sounds like a child.  Our 4 yr old son has seen an Angel for the past yr.  He talks to her all of the time.  Last Sunday we were making a lazy day of it, since we both work opposite shifts at a factory, and my son was laying behind me on the couch.  All of the sudden he said, "Do you love me?"  and I answered, "Of course I do".  He told me he wasn't talking to me.  He was talking to his Angel.  He got down on the floor with his right cheek laying on the hard wood.  He says he has to get down there in order to see her.  He also told us, on this day, she has no legs for her Father cut them off.  He has seen pictures of Angels before so he knows she is an angel because of the wings.
  We let my sister in law live here with us and she did witchcraft in our upstairs.  We had things happen to us that scared us so we had a priest come in here and bless our house.  Things calmed down for quite awhile.  The things that happen in our house now is feelings of someone watching you, my husband seen a young man in a straw hat looking at the sky outside of one our barns.  There was a young guy that got hurt in the barn many yrs ago and the story goes that they brought him inside this house and he then died.
  My cousin and her husband lived here and they just told me a couple of months ago that they used to hear music in here also.
  I have only seen one spirit in this house and it was of an older gentlemen in a blue suit with a black hat on.
 

By: fm@uswest.net
 

Just wanted to add a little to the St James Hotel in
Cimarron New Mexico as well as it's Cemetary.  We had
decided to go for my birthday in October of last year.  We
stayed for the weekend.  (by the way, the rooms are great)!
On Saturday we took a trip into Taos and then back.  With
time still left of the afternoon we found the local
cemetary.  We found the original owner of the St James and
his family buried there.  I inadvertantly stepped on Mary's
grave.  then we stood back to take some pictures.  The
graves were in a completely shaded area but one of my
pictures shows light around one of the tombstones.  No
matter what angle the pictures were taken, Henry Lamberts
gravestone is blacked out but his wifes headstone (which is
exactly like Henry's) came out fine in the same picture.
That evening is when all kinds of crazy things began to
happen.  While eating dinner, the waitress was walking
through the room with a tray and it looked like someone just
came right up underneath the tray and slapped it out of her
hands.  We were talking to the people that were staying in
Mary's room.  We went in this room and the smell of lavender
was overwhelming.  Mary's room is right nest to TJ's room
(17).  We have pictures down the halls of aparitions and
spent the night being pulled off of the bed by our feet (we
were in the Jesse James room).  It is definate;y a fun
place!!

"Mr Miller"
 
 

By: liquidator66@yahoo.com
 

As promised, the first of my stories goes as follows:

My mother and her family, being her parents and 11
other brothers and sisters, grew up in East London
during the first quarter of this century.  No, not
"east-London", England, but rather a (then) small port
on the south-eastern coast of South Africa.  My mother
was the youngest of six daughters and, in fact, the
youngest of the family.  At the time the events
described below took place, she was about 10 years
old, which means that the year was 1936.

The family lived in a house situated at 20 Park
Street, which was connected to the bakery premises
next door.  In fact, at least two of my uncles worked
at the bakery, which was called "Model Bakery".  My
mother told me that the house in Park Street had a
"reputation" as the family were always experiencing
weird happenings.  These included the children hearing
windows open and close at night - in rooms that nobody
could get into; and the cat and the dogs going
ballistic - when no one was there (the usual things
for strange houses).

The bakery, and their house, was owned by an elderly
Jewish gentleman, called Mr Miller.  My mother
described him to me as having "quite a kind heart" but
being generally grumpy and upleasant to speak to.  She
said that the younger children in the family (herself
included) always used to tease him, despite the fact
that he was elderly and not in very good health.

One evening, my mother and two of her sisters,
Jeanetta (about 12 years old at the time) and Edna
(about 16) were coming home from the local cinema, The
Capital, at about quarter to ten at night.  They were
walking home down the middle of Park Street, after
having bought sweets, and the Weekly Standard
newspaper, at the local store when Edna remarked that
Mr Miller was walking up the street towards them.  My
mother remembers that he was wearing his usual
clothes, being grey pants and a gray jacket, and
wearing a grey cap.  The girls decided that they had
better greet him and, as he passed, they all said
hello.  Although they looked directly at him when they
spoke, he did not answer, and Jeanetta remarked that
it was just like him not to say hello to them as he
was that mean.  They then watched him walk right down
the street, away from them.

They continued on home and told their mother, my
grandmother, of their encounter with the mean old Mr
Miller.  She looked at them somewhat strangely, and
then told them that Mr Miller had died at home at 7pm
that night, about three hours before they had seen
him...

regards from East London - further stories will follow

The Dining Room
 

By: FleshEater99@aol.com
 
 

In 1992 my parents and I moved into a house in the nicer part of town. It was
my stepfather's grandmother's house, and she had recently died in her
bedroom, which we later converted to a dining room. Following her death, his
grandfather passed away on the kitchen floor due to "trauma." Anyhow,
the night we moved in, I remember my parents feeling proud of their first
real house together. Upon the first night of moving in, though, my stepfather
had strange dreams about a black creature with glowing eyes chasing him
around the house. It freaked him out so much he woke up screaming and my
mother had to calm him down. To make an extremely long story short, I have
included some strange events that took place over the 7 years of our
residence:
* the telephone would ring off the hook! My parents blamed me, saying that it
was my friends. They stopped when the doorbell started doing the same; my
stepfather would hide in the driveway to see who it was.
*Friends that came over would get freaked out for NO reason whatsoever. On
one occasion, my best friend came running up the stairs from the basement
saying she heard someone down there.
*When my stepfather went away on buisiness trips, my mom and I would be
alone. On more than one occasion, she asked me the following morning why I
had been up so late making noise around the house, only I wasn't.
*After school I would stay alone for about an hour, and usually I was so
scared I'd lock myself in my room until someone got home. One vacation I had
to stay home and keep an eye on the house... I was SO SCARED I ran outside in
the backyard just to get out of there!
*In the end, before moving, things got strange. In the basement, from nowhere
came the shape of a foot on the cement; it was so strange! At night I would
hear what sounded like footsteps on the roof above my bed ( which my parents
said were squirrils. ) I believe that my parents knew something I didn't and
that they didn't want to supply me with the information. But when I started
hearing faint polka music from my bedroom ( which was directly above the
dining room ) I told my parents and my stepfather solemnly explained that his
grandmother listened to polka music during the times when she had been
bedridden. It was extremely scary, and I hated that house from the beginning.
Thank you very much for reading my story, maybe it will let others know they
are not alone at all.
 

By: LOREE63@aol.com
 

When I was about nine years old my parents rented a small house on Coal River
Road. It was probably built in the Twenties or Thirties and we lived there in
the 1970s. The front door opened into a large living room which formed one
side of the house. Three doors led off down the left hand side of the room.
One opened into a small bedroom, the next into the bathroom and a third into
the kitchen. The house had exits on all sides. A long back porch looked out
over the river. It should have been a pleasant place to live, but I had
nightmares about the house for years after we moved, even after I was married
and had a child of my own.
Since the house had only one bedroom, I was given a corner of the large
living room as my "room." One night as I was sleeping, I woke feeling sick
and as I looked around in the dim light I saw I woman sitting on the floor
near my bed. She was sitting "Indian" style and her head was covered with
hair rollers. She was rocking back and forth and appeared to laughing, but I
couldn't hear a sound. Nothing. The woman didn't seem scary, but I knew she
was not my mom and that she was not supposed to be there. I started screaming
for my mother and she came. Of course, the woman was gone and my mom told me
I was dreaming and gave me some medicine and told me to go back to sleep.
Another time I awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee and the sounds of my
parents talking in the kitchen as my dad prepared to leave for work. I felt
all cozy and safe and decided to go back to sleep. I rolled over and saw an
oval shape like a picture without a frame hanging in the air a few feet from
my bed. The picture was of a kind looking old lady with white, smooth hair,
blue eyes, and a flowered cotton dress. Her expression was calm and pleasant.
We did not have any pictures like that in the house and what we did have did
not float in the air. I looked away for a second and when I looked back it
was of course, gone.
The only really frightening thing that happened to me while living in the
house was a terrible dream I had in which someone I loved very much was
abusing me in ways I didn't even know people used to hurt each other. I had
no actual knowledge at all of what I had seen in my dream, but it was so real
that I avoided the person in real life for a week. Only later when I was
older did I learn people really did what I dreamed about. And no, the dream
was not a result of something that really happened that I "blocked" out when
awake.
After we moved from the house, my mother admitted that she was terrified of
being alone in the house. After dad went to work and I left for school she
would sit frozen on the couch feeling something was standing behind her and
that if she turned around she would see something awful. My dad said he would
have moved us out in a minute if he had known what was going on.
As the years passed I dreamed of the house about three or four times a year.
In the dream dusk would be falling and I would find myself alone in the
house. Usually I had been forced to move back again and could not leave.
Nothing bad would happen in the dream except for the feeling that something
was there and it was
 oppressive and bad and that I couldn't get away. Almost always I would wake
up scared to death, in a panic. The dream would come just often enough for me
to forget about it for a while.  It doesn't happen anymore, but it went on
for about 15 years.

The only thing that I know about the house is that the woman who owned it for
years died there and was found by a neighbor who noticed he hadn't seen her
for a few days. She was on the couch and probably died in her sleep. I never
felt she was the one who haunted the house, at least not the cause of my
dreams or the awful feelings my mother experienced.
To me the strangest part of this is that I was more afraid of the dreams I
had of the house than I ever was of really living there. The house itself was
torn down a short while after we moved.

The Porcelin Doll
 
 

By: Nel777thor@aol.com
 
 

It was about four years ago, and I was staying over my friends house, she has
a big family so when I went to stay with her I stayed with all her bothers
and sisters too and they told me all these ghost stories, and one about her
porcelin bride doll saying the it was haunted.  I thought they were just
"pullen my chain" and they would keep saying it was true and the next day I
would come to find out how true those stories were.  Well the next day mostly
everyone went to the grocery store so it was only me my friend and her baby
sister at the house and it was boring cause my friend had to do chores and
didnt want my help so I had to find something to do.  So I went into her bed
room and I started to play with her porcelin doll, being cocky and moving it
around saying "your not haunted", then I looked into its eyes and they seemed
as if they had life and I mean like real eyes so that freaked me out and I
turned the doll around to face the wall and then I went to the other side of
the room to look at some books.  I shruged the eye thing off as being my
imagination and tried to read the book but shortly I got this eerie feeling
that you couldn't just ignore, so I turned around and the porcelin doll was
looking dead at me.  I almost died on the spot I knew I turned it around and
it also had its hand up as if pointing at me, for a second I thought maybe
its my friend trying to scare me but the floors in their house are made of
wood so everytime you take a step it creeks, it was quiet the whole time so
when I realized that I shot out of the room like a canon, I mean I literally
jump clear over her bed to get out of there.  And when I reached her I told
her exactly everything that happened and all she said was "see I told you
this house is haunted, no one ever believe me" and from then on I believed
her. Later on when we went back in her room cause I wouldn't go back without
her the doll was in its original postion before I turned it before it moved
its self, other stuff has happened in that house and that I have experienced
myself but I'll save that for another story.
 

By: JPerlowski@StarTrekMail.Com
 

 
 My fiancee' and I needed to post this story for your readers, because it
 felt like quite a serious experience. It all happened one evening when
 the three of us, that is Leann (soon to be wife), myself and my mother
 decided to travel to New York City. We were given free tickets to watch
 a guest speaker of a famous learning annex, and thought it would make a
 good time for Leann (who is originally from Kentucky) to see the sights.
 
 The evening progressed well, and everyone was in an inquisitive mood to
 see just how much of a "charlatan", or perhaps justified this particular
 orator was, in certain occult circles. As we arrived at this old post
 Victorian building, my fiancee' immediately felt a certain unsteadiness,
 but decided to keep it to herself. I walked into the place feeling
 absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, and my mother seemed the same.
 We went into the adjacent room that led to a semi enclosed corner where
 the elevators were, and all three of us stood with a group of other
 people awaiting our turn. Nothing seemed strange at this point, as we
 were talking about what we were going to see, and what floor it was on.

 As the door opened to this relatively old fashioned elevator (small in
 all senses of the word), three people walked inside (a woman an two men)
 and moved over to the end. It was then that Leann followed, my mother,
 myself and a man. All told it was 7 people cramped into a space no
 larger than 2 (Fatty Arbuckle) coffins fit together. Immediately the
 elevator door closed, and then nothing....
 
 Now picture this. About 2 minutes pass by. Right before the doors
 closed, I had joked to the man that walked in with me last, that this
 particular place was very claustrophobic. He smiled and turned to the
 door. Just proceeding my words, as the elevator doors closed shut, there
 was no elevation. In actuality, there was nothing but the breathing of
 people closely knit, and the deafening silence that seemed to foretell a
 serious problem indeed.
 
 This is what happened next in order:
 
 1. The woman that came in with the three people in the beginning began
 to shake and thrust out her hands wildly, punching the various buttons
 on the elevator wall, and loudly exclaiming to no one in particular
 that, "I have to get out...let me outtttt".
 
 2. Leann stared at the woman's movements, beginning to feel the initial
 shock of helplessness in so shut in a space, and watched as for some
 reason one of the men that was next to the lady, began to move his
 fingers in unison with hers. He was mumbling something under his breath,
 and Leann, although concentrating more on staying calm, noticed that the
 hands of both the lady and the man seemed to intertwine...almost as if
 they were moving as one hand all along.
 
 3. I looked to the elevator's buttons on the wall, and noticed the woman
 ONLY punching thus, but then quickly turned my attention to the man that
 was standing next to me, who smiled, exclaiming that there was "plenty
 of air coming in from the ceiling of the elevator".
 
 4. As soon as the man spoke, I felt somewhat relieved by looking at the
 ceiling, and then peered downwards and took a count of the people in the
 room... I counted "5".
 
 5. Also, as the man said this, the entire place went from about 65
 degrees or so, to well over 95 degrees and climbing. The room
 immediately took on a stagnant acrid atmosphere, and everyone began to
 sweat profusely.
 
 6. The same man, seeming to be in control of his nerves, stated almost
 at the same time that I did, that perhaps the elevator could, "go down
 if we pressed the lower number than what this contraption may have
 already arisen to". The funny thing is, that we never moved nor felt any
 movement the entire time the doors were closed.
 
 7. My mother immediately turns to me and says in a very low key voice,
 "I don't feel so well, I think I am going to faint".
 
 8. At this point, I tell her to calm down, and turn back to the man,
 watching as he gently presses the number 2, and waits.
 
 9. Nothing....At this point, I can feel the panic beginning to increase
 in everyone's mindset.
 
 10. About another minute or so passes, and the door opens on the second
 floor; a waive of cool air from the building's air conditioning ducts
 hitting the entrance to the elevator, and then...
 
 First comes out the man, followed in no short order by myself, Leann, my
 mom, and finally the lady. We move to the stairwell, having at this
 point the feeling that the elevator, "aint gonna make it!", and then
 begin to proceed to climb the stairs...or do we? Well, 5 of us seem to
 have, but what of the other two? It seemed to both myself (after she
 made me aware of it) and Leann, that these other two men never made it
 out of the elevator, and it was bothering us the entire evening
 afterwards. So much so, that we called my mother later that night, and
 asked her how many people she had seen inside that elevator.........her
 reply was a very adamant, "5".
 
 In conclusion to this, both my mother, myself and Leann could easily
 take a lie detector test and swear that this elevator never moved the
 entire time we were in it. There was no lift, no downwards motion, no
 motion at all...yet it somehow landed on the second floor of this 8 to
 10 floor building. There was no noise as to the machinations of the
 elevator's motor or tow line, and the electricity stayed on the entire
 time. Since you can only exit the elevator from the one sliding door,
 and the stairwell is the only one that could get you up or down the
 various levels of the building, there was no other way to go. The people
 on the second floor were just as surprised to see us, as we were to see
 them. I couldn't help telling everyone there in a very timid voice that
 this elevator has to be fixed.
 
 Leave it to say, we won't be taking a ride on any elevators for a long
 long long long time!
 

By: Halien9200@cs.com
 

I have enjoyed your site immensely.
I had an experience, but it was in the form of a dream.  Allow me to tell you
the story, and I would appreciate your opinion.
Last year, my grandmother died suddenly of a heat attack.  I loved her very
much, and was quite sad about her passing.  At this time in my life, I had
just split up with my boyfriend and was buying a house. A few weeks before I
closed on the house, Barney who was my dog and very best friend in the whole
world got killed. With all of these stressful events, after Barney died I was
quite devastated.  A few weeks after his death, I had a dream. I was in a
hotel about to get on an elevator, and presumably a hotel employee stopped me
and told me I had guests.  I turned around and saw my grandmother walk up to
me with Barney. She greeted me with a term of endearment she used for me
often when I was a child.  I was not scared,  because it was so vivid, and I
have never had another dream like this once since (about a year ago).

Being a rational, and I believe somewhat intelligent person, I could very
easily dismiss this dream as my subconscious wanting them to be together
wherever spirits dwell.
One seemingly inconsequential detail stuck out in my mind. My grandmother,
who was a very beautiful woman, always complained about her hair looking
messy or unkempt, even though she was always well groomed. When I saw her in
this dream, her hair was perfect, and as always she looked beautiful.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, I don't know if you can use
it for anything, but I really wanted someone else to read it.  If you have
any comments, my address is halien9200@cs.com.
Thank you!
 

By: Jeannie
 
 

I hope that you dont think Im pyhcotic. Actually, a few short months ago,I would not,even in my wildest dreams, looked up ghosts on the net. I even feel crazy telling anyone about this.Its not like I havent had paranormal experiences before,but I would generally put them on my "ignore" mode. Ive seem mists on a few occasions.

Well here it is. About a year ago,I put up a poster of a 19th century classical music composer in my office .I work for a local pbs  station,and another employee though that I would like it. Everything was normal for about nine months.Then one day,I started feeling a strange warmth every time I looked at this poster.At times I would feel that someone was behind me,but when I looked back,noone was there.
There was just the picture starring at me. Might I add, this composer is not very attractive.

Nothing in my life had changed that might trigger "crazy" feeling. Ive had the same
job, same boyfriend,and many of the same friends for the past eight years.If anything, my life is less turbulent than it was before.

As time went by, I felt a strange compulsion to write a ghost story about  the essense of this artist in our time. I havent even as much as kept a journal for absolute eons.And,as you can tell,my sentence structure and grammatical skills are less than to be desired.

You are probably thinking that this doesnt sound like an inordinate situation.However,somewhat esoteric events have been taking place sinse i started the story. For instance, Ive smelled the scent of lilacs in my livingroom when they wernt in season. also,my usual french roast coffee smelled and tasted profusely of cinnamon. I looked all over my kitchen for a natural cause but couldnt find one.On one occasion,my computer turned on at six oclock in the morning all by itself.
Everyone else,including my cats, was sleeping.

In addition, Im remebering events,from my childhood,long forgotten, that I couldnt explain.
When I was a child,I can remember playing with certain toys that I couldnt find later on. I can remember searching the attic for a doll with ivory, high heel shoes that looked like they were woven like frilagree. My parents said that I must have dreamed it up. Other than my computer turning on,Ive been able to use all thise events in my story.