by 5cw2@qlink.queensu.ca
Hi, I feel a little strange doing this...but...I guess I'm not the only
one. I know for a fact that it isn't just places that are haunted,
sometimes it's people too. I'm 21 and I've had so many experiences in
my life that it would literally take several hours to tell all of my
stories.
My scariest experience was a haunting that lasted just under a year. I
was followed constantly by at least two spirits. They were very
powerful and very frightening. I don't like to talk about this
experience because I am afraid that it will give them power to come
back, but I will tell you of three things that happened during this
time.
The first thing that they liked to do was turn my tv set on and off and
change the channel and raise and lower the volume. Many people saw this
happen and we tried to find some sort of connection. I think that it is
possible that the strange happenings had something to do with a penny
jar we kept because every time we took the pennies out to count them,
the tv would act up, but I don't have the scientific knowledge to say if
that's possible.
These spirits seemed to be especially drawn to me whenever my boyfriend
was around. We both experienced things separately, but together it was
an almost constant feeling that we were not alone. After we broke up,
the hauntings stopped and when I ran into him 6 months later we talked
about the absence of "our ghosts" over coffee and the coffee cup slid
across the table.
The other two experiences I want to tell you about happened with Ross.
One night we were in bed and the lights turned on. We got up, checked
the door to see if it was locked, walked around the house to see if any
other lights were on (which they weren't) and finally went back to the
bedroom and had a smoke. After about 15 minutes the lights turned back
off. I said thankyou and they promptly turned back on, then off again.
The other experience that was interesting occurred one night when Ross
was at his parent's house about 40 minutes away. I awoke at 4am to find
my bed was levitating. As I opened my eyes, the bed fell to the ground
gently. I couldn't go back to sleep so I wandered around the house
wishing Ross was there with me. At 6am he called me (this guy NEVER
awoke before noon) to tell me that he had walked and hitchhiked most of
the way, but he needed me to pick him up for the final few kilometres.
There were many other things that happened during this time and yet for
a while I tried to convince myself that it wasn't true. I even wrote an
English exam one year that focused on not believing in spirits. --the
exam went missing!
by shalane@erols.com
Maybe it's just that my family's Irish or that we have memories like
elephants, but at this year's family Christmas party, the talk
ultimately turned to ghosts that the family has experienced. My Aunt
Linda chuckled over her ghost being on 'the web' and my mother acted a
little proud and embarrassed to acknowledge Elizabeth. But it was my
father, of all people, the quietest out of all of us and the one who
usually scoffs at our 'ghost prattle', that came out with a story that
confused and intrigued even us.
He began with, "Well, I was little, and staying with my grandfather at
their old farmhouse just outside of Philadelphia. My older brother,
Bobby and I would sleep in a little room that used to be our father's
before he moved out.
"Well, one night Bobby and I had been out playing all day and were a
little more excited than we should have been to sleep. To tire
ourselves out, we started wrestling and finally gave up on that when
granddad yelled at us that we were makin' too much noise. Well, we took
to tellin' each other ghost stories, like boys will do to scare each
other and see who's the bravest.
"Bobby was in the middle of a tale and suddenly the bed started shaking
something awful, and on a hardwood floor, it makes a hell of a lot of
noise. Once the bed stopped shaking, we began to hear something over
near one of the corners whispering incoherently and in a strange
language.
"Not thinking that there might have been something under the bed making
it move that way, we both crawled under the bed and huddled together,
waiting for granddad to come rescue us. Certainly he would be up after
us after all the noise the bed made banging on the floor.
"After several minutes, however, it became apparent that granddad just
wasn't coming and we climbed back onto the bed, pulling the covers over
our heads and holding each other, shaking until dawn broke, still
finding both of us awake.
"That morning, at breakfast, we both recounted the story to a skeptical
grandmama and an amused granddad. Granddad finally said we both must've
been asleep or one of us was snoring, because he would have heard if the
bed had made that much noise. The only sound he'd heard out of us last
night was when one of us fell out of bed while wrestling."
He shrugged amidst grins and everyone nodded, ackowledging his story as
the gospel and another person took his turn.
Frankly, it was a story I'd never heard from him and was glad he spoke
up to say he believed despite all his scoffing....
by rerah@sprynet.com
Hello,
A guy my mom works noticed that my mom seemed troubled. She replyed,
telling him that she has been seeing a white figure in the corner of her eye
when she'd walk past my room. (I'm 17 years old
so I do live at home) This guy, the one my mom works
with, I guess just out of no where, desciribed my father to a T, what he looked
like, build, and that he died a horrible death. Which he did, drunk driving, so
bad they don't know who drove the car. He also said(the guy) that he is there to
watch over me. I'm really skeptic about the guy, but not my father.
After my mother told me that, I have started realize that some sort of
being was there. I'll past up my room, usually, Sunday or Monday nights when I
go into my mom's room, I'll see something. 4 nights ago and especially last
night really convinced me. 4
nights ago I was trying to go to sleep when this chill of air got to me. I was
rapped in my blankets but this chill would not go away. I eventually went to
sleep.
Last night was strange. I was sitting with my cigarette in my left hand
looking at my Life of Agony tape cover. Out of the corner of my eye I saw
something white. As I turned to my right and there was this white thing. Looked
like smoke but it couldn't have been, the cigarette was my other hand. I stared
at it until it disappered, and when it faded, it was in the shape of a hand. I
got cold but still continued with what I was doing.
Another weird thing is these 3 dreams I have had. My really close friend
Josh died 2 years ago.
We only knew each other for 3-4 months but there was just this strange bond. In
these dreams he has been in. Of course they came after his death, but what they
mean, I don't know. The first dream happened about 1-2 months after his death.
We are at this party and I see him sitting on a skateboard. When I approach him
his eyes are blank and black. No iris or cornea or white, just black. That
figure frightened me and still does.
This past summer I was staying at a friend house in Carbondale, Il. The
night before my friend and I went to sleep, we sat up and told her the dream I
had before about Josh. That night in my dream, he shows up at my house and we
talk. He starts to cry and asks if I ever cared about him. I say yes and cry
also. He then gets up and leaves saying he will see me again.
The last dream took place with me and 3 other friends at a cook out when
a tornado hits. We run in the basement and I run to the south end if the room.
As I'm there I hear Josh telling me come under the stairway. Just I reach the
stairs the roof is torn of the house and the storm passes. He said that he never
meant to hurt me and that I have to understand he is gone but we will see each
other again. I woke up right after that. The strange thing was I had a bad crush
on Josh and I never told anyone until after he died. It's like he found out or
always knew.
I want to know if you can help me understand
the guy my mom works with (if that is a crock and I'm just going crazy thinking
my Dad is watching every move I make or this is possible) And if you can tell me
if my friend that I still think fond of I trying to contact me beyond. I never
told anyone this information and after I read a bunch of the entries(including
yours) I figured I'd have someone that can help me understand what is going on.
by clacount@nyx.net
Years back, in the 1940's I believe, my grandfather, my fathers, and my
uncles built out family's "cottage." A couple of years later my
grandfather built a small shed located about 75 yards from the actual
cottage. This building had electricity and such that my grandfather
wired himself. A couple of years back my grandfather died rather
suddenly. It didn't come as much of a shock to the family, and we more
or less took it in stride.
As a little side note, the cottage was my grandfather's favorite place
to be. There was nothing that he loved better than to do work around the
cottage, be it raking leaves, or fixing various things around the place.
About a year after my grandfather's death, I began getting into music,
playing the guitar myself. My parent spent a great deal of time at the
cottage in the summer, and being too young to look after myself
competently, they brought me to the cottage with them. So that I wasn't
too bored I brought my amplifier and guitar to the cottage. My parent
located me and my equipment in this small outbuilding. The problem was
that we couldn't get power out there. My father is an electrical
technician and he traced the wires into the peaked roof of this
outbuilding. It was at this point that we found there was a fuse box in
the outbuilding. There was a throw switch on the fuse box that was in
the off position. Nobody in out entire family knew about this switch box
until then. We proceeded to turn the switch box on. Things went normally
for that entire summer.
The following summer I decided to bring my amplifier and guitar to the
cottage again. And again, to our surprise, the switch on the fuse box
was in the off position. Nobody had touched it, and the cottage had been
vacant for the entire winter. We turned the switch on again and things
went normally.
Once again, the following summer, although I didn't bring my amp or
guitar to the cottage, I checked the switch and once again, it was off.
Although I never did "see" a ghost, it seems that the ghost of my
grandfather (the only person who knew of the switch) has been playing
some games with us.
by selene@hem.passagen.se
I'm a 16-year-old girl from Sweden, and I've seen things that no one has
ever believed. People have been calling me a story-teller and a liar, but I
swear, the "story" I'm about to tell is absolutely true!
When I was about 7 years old, my family and I lived on an old graveyard
from the time when vikings still ruled in Europe. Well, we lived in a row
house with two floors, I slept on the second one. My room was small, and
faced the small street outside. The street was too small for vehicles, only
pedestrians and cyclists could move there.
Anyhow. I always slept with my door opened just a little, and with a lamp
switched on in the window. One night I suddenly woke up, I don't know why.
I lied in my bed and tried to go back to sleep, when something suddenly
caught my eye. It was a shadow! When I say shadow, I don't mean one of
those regular ones, no, this one had the shape of a fullgrown man, but it
didn't have a body! The shadow went into my room from the opening in the
door, and slowly went towards my bed (following the wall). I closed my eyes
and hoped that it would disappear when I opened them again, but once I had
opened them, the shadow was still there. I cried out to myself "there are
no ghosts, there are no ghosts" (cause a book for children had told me that
that was the way to get rid of them), but still the shadow came closer and
closer. I pinched myself in my arm, hoping I was only dreaming, but I
wasn't (and my arm started to ache badly). When the shadow reached my
pillow, it just disappeared.
I have gone through the happenings in my head over and over again, but I
still can't figure out just what it was that visited me that night. It
wasn't a shadow from the street, since no cars could send out any lights
(besides I had my curtains down). It wasn't anyone in my family, cause I
asked them about it in the morning, and they thought that I had gone mad or
that I had made it all up in my mind. My evidence was my arm, it was still
aching.
The shadow never came back, but other things happened. Like once a painting
fell down to the floor without a reason, doors have opened themselves, I've
heard footsteps when no one else but me have been at home...
Tell me, what was it? Can anyone give me an answer?
by rbrecken@cswnet.com
I am a 14 male who lives in Newport, Arkansas. My mom and I was in
Batesville, AR at the Wal-Mart supercenter. While in the Wal-Mart, I had
to go to the restroom so I proceeded to the back of the store. While I was
in the restroom doing my buisiness i heard some tapping on inside one of
the stalls or maybe in the wall or womens restroom. After I listened for a
few more seconds I knew it was coming out of a stall. I listened closely
and heard what it was tapping. bam bam bam baaam baaam baaam bam bam bam.
It sounded like the morse code for S.O.S { . . . - - - . . . } It kept
doing it over and over. On the wall infront of me I raised my fist and hit
out the first 3 dots and one dash when someting hit the stall side hard. I
was not in a stall so it did not scare me at first. After I zipped my
pants I looked under each stall to see if any one was in one. After I
would look under one I would open the stall door. There was no one in any
of the stalls. I was getting really nervouse at the time. I hurried to
get to the door when out of the corner of my I saw something in the mirror.
I turned quickly. It was a teenager standing motionless. It had on a
some tight faded blue jeans and a red and white wide striped shirt. I
turned around and he wasn't there, turned back around and he was still in
the same motionless position. I ran out of there as fast as I could. At
that time I was 13 years old, It had been a year since that had happed,
every time I got back to that Wal-Mart I stay away from that area of the
store. So I havn't seen it again.
The only people to believe me are my Mother, my best friend Cary Campbell,
and a woman that works there I almost knocked down while running out.
This is not a false story, I get shills just bye closing my eyes and
thinking about it. I am having weird fealings right now, because I am
thinking hard about it.
by Klinger999@aol.com
When I was in fifth grade, we moved into a 80 year old house in Rockwall, Texas. The house was built on an Indian burial ground. My brother used to enjoy playing under the house where he had found alot of surprises and sunken graves. The original owners of the home were still talked about occasionally around town. The father was a doctor and had owned the first car in town and the mother was remembered as a wonderful piano player. The piano that she owned had stayed with the house through the different owners over the years.
One day I was waiting on my grandparents to arrive in town. I heard someone running down the stairs and heard the door behind me slam (as if they were coming into the same room I was in). I turned around, thinking my brother must have gotten home and no one was there. I ran out of the house to my friend's house next door. When my friend and I came back, we heard steps running across the sidewalk near us. Needless to say, we ran back to her house as fast as our legs could carry us. There were quite a few little episodes like that one.
The most unforgettable episode was a night when my dad was out of town. A friend was staying the night and we were in my bedroom. My mother came into the room and asked if we'd been downstairs playing with the piano. We hadn't. She checked on my brother and he was sound asleep. She called us out into the hall and we sat at the head of the stairs and could hear the piano playing clear as a bell downstairs. My mom grabbed the baseball bat and headed down. As soon as she got to the bottom of the stairs, the piano stopped playing. She searched the house and found nothing. Right as she got back to the top of the stairs, it started again. Sarah (my friend) and I could hear it as well. Back down my mom went and once again, it stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairs and she found nothing. That was all for that night.
I'll always believe we had a friend living with us in that house (possibly more than one). It was a beautiful old home and I'm sure whoever is living there now is having a very interesting time of it.
by wesleyan@rmh.edu
When I was in college in Rock Hill SC, (Winthrop University) I lived in the
house that was built by my great-grandfather in 1915. He had died there in
the 40's and my great-grandmother lived there until her death in 1978. She
was quite fond of me. I was her 1st great-grandchild and was named after
her husband (he was Wes Anderson too). The house was a two story
victorian style hidden from the road by two huge, drooping oak trees.
After Jinks died (Jinks was a nickname my great-grandmother aquired in
childhood on acount of her name having been Annie Lucky, it stuck for a
lifetime) anyhow, after she died, my grandfather (her son) divided the
house into 3 large apartments to rent to college students. The house was
situated only about 3 blocks from the main campus at 232 Oakland Ave. When
my turn came to go to school, I naturally took up residence in the upstairs
apartment. I had two roomates and the two apartments downstairs each had
two residents. after a couple of months my roomates aproached me with some
strange experiences they had had. It seems that some nights they would
awaken to the feeling that they were not alone in the room. The feeling was
quite overwhelming and, despite investigating, they found nothing. I
admitted to having had the same feeling but we attributed it to the old and
rather spooky nature of the house itself. However, other residents of the
house, with whom we were only passingly aquainted, universally reported the
same feeling. One would be awakened from a dead sleep to the undeniable
feeling that someone else was in the room. Attributing the feeling to the
old house was not enough for one of my roomates (Paul Inuario from
Greenville) who was so disturbed by this phenomenon, he packed up his
belongings and moved in with his girlfriend. A few weeks later a girl who
lived in one of the downstairs apts. became so frightened by this useen
presence that she abruptly moved out as well. I was unsettled by this also
but after all, if there was a spirit in the house, it must be a member of
my own family! Those of us who remained in the house continued about our
business clinging to the sentiment that the unseen presence must be some
collective psycological phenomenon brought on by living in an old house.
This was the situation until early one morning about May 1990.
I had just begun summer school at Winthrop in an attempt to finally
graduate and was heading out the door to an 8:00 am class. I was coming
down the exterior stairs of our apartment which led to the driveway beside
the house when I was met by the girl who lived in one of the downstairs
apartments. Beth was an art student at Winthrop and I barely knew her. This
morning she was visibly distraught and had obviously been waiting outside
on the front porch for me to come down. When she gathered her composure she
relayed to me a most frightening yarn.
The night before she had been reading in her bed quite late and
petting her cat which was laying on the bed beside her. At some instant the
cat went rigid and began to hiss at something across the room. Beth put
down her book and looked up to see, to her utter shock, the etherial form
of a tiny old woman sitting in a chair about 10 feet from her. She stared
in horror for a few seconds when the from disapeared into thin air. She
immediately rose, dressed hurredly and spent the remainder of the night on
the front porch! Her artsy nature and her strange clothing style caused me
at first to write off her story to drugs, alcohol, wierdness or some
mixture thereof. I reasured her as best I could and continued to class.
Later that day I was at the house of my father (also in Rock Hill) and I
told him Beth's story. My father is more disposed than I was to believing
in such things and asked if I would introduce him to Beth. Jinks was his
grandmother and they were very close. I called her from his house and I
believe that she agreed to see him only because he owned the house she
counted on for shelter. We arranged a meeting for that very evening. Before
we left my father pocketed a clear picture of Jinks to show Beth. When we
arrived at the old house Beth was still a bit uneasy. She repeated the
story for my dad who then asked if she would look at Jinks' picture. She
reluctantly agreed. When he held it out to her she regarded it for all of
two seconds when tears welled up in her eyes and she wilted into a nearby
chair, after pushing the picture out of her sight. No professional actor
could have simulated the terror we saw on that girl's face when she was
confronted with the living image of the figure she had seen the night
before. When we calmed her my father wanted to see the spot where she had
seen the apparition. I was stunned but not overly suprised when the bedroom
she indicated had belonged to Jinks in life and was the very room in which
she drew her final breath! Before the sun had set on the following day,
Beth moved out of our old house and would never set foot in it again.
A couple of months later I graduated from school and left 232 Oakland
Avenue myself. The events of that day, coupled with my own expreiences
prior, created one more firm believer in the supernatural.
by Burgermcc@aol.com
The following is a compiled list of the many rumors that conserned the old high school from my friend's town. My friend spent his childhood in upstate Maine. The high school he went to was know for being haunted. The story began when a senior wrote a play for the drama club. The boy directed and starred in the play. This put him under alot of stress. THe night before the play opened the boy showed up and demanded that the janitor let him into the auditorium. Since he was an honor student the janitor told him he could use the auditorium for two hours, which was just enough time to go through the whole play. After two hours the janitor returned and found the stage lights on but the boy wasn't there. No one ever saw the boy again. Regardless, the play went on and was aclaimed by the newspapers as greatly written.
Ever since that day the school was plagued with unexplainable occurances. Entire rows of lockers would be found open wide on some mornings. Lights would be seen on at odd times of the night. The parking lot gate would close in the middle of the day. Books in the library would be mixed up and trays from the cafateria were found stacked on the tables. Sighting would occur on the nights of rehersals, and plays. People would swear they saw a young man staring out the class room windows or walking across the darkened gym. Several years ago the school was found to be too old and was demolished so that a new school could be built. That's when my friend moved away. From what his friends told him there were no further occurances.
I'm not sure if the stories are true but my friend is very creditable.
by Waaden01@aol.com
It all began in the summer of 1975 while my ship was undergoing an overhaul at the Long Beach Naval Station. I was sent TDY to the Galley or Mess Hall there on base to serve my messcook duty. This was something that all junior seaman have to do. I was assigned to be the assistant to the night cook. The kitchen had four or five walk-in refrigerators and freezers. One of these freezers was broken and no longer used. It was also locked from the inside with a padlock and had not been used for sometime. One day at shift change when we were getting our instructions for the evening from the chief petty officer we were standing in front of the locked freezer. At this time the door blew open with enough force to knock the three of us off our feet. We were unhurt but very surprised and shocked. We were unable to figure out why the door had opened given the circumstances but went on about our business. A few days later I watched as the door opened its self again. The door would eventually open by itself several times a week. Occasionally the lids to the big cooking vats would close by themselves also. After two months I requested to be put on the day shift. No one asked why and I didn't say although the Chief Petty Officer suspected as much. Nothing more happened until the spring of 1980 when I got my own apartment back in my home town.
Things started to disappear and then appear several days later in strange places. One of the favorites was my keys. They would disappear after I had gone to bed and the show up again a couple of days later, usually in my refrigerator. One of my duties at my job was to stock the singles in the soda cooler at the end of my shift. This took about an hour to do. One night after doing this I went back into the cooler to turn off the light and found all of the cans of soda pop that I had stocked removed from the shelves and placed back in their flats, Not more than five minutes had passed since I had finished stocking.
I have since gotten married and had children. The incidents have grown less and less frequent. I attribute this to my wife losing her temper and yelling at whatever it is to stop hiding things although it still likes to hid my keys from time to time. I can offer no explanation except that I have aquired some sort of companion.