I Experienced It
I am 25 now and have had strange experiences which, though I am very
analytical and skeptical can't seem to find out how or why or what these
things were. I will tell each encounter as simply and accurately as I can.
I used to live in Stockton and my house was in built around 1910-1912.
I was an only child and my parents were very busy doing their own things.
I may have had an overactive imagination but I don't believe so, because
what I saw was too clear and not vague and reinterpreted by my brain. The
sliding redwood doors that separated our living room from the dining room
began to shake before my eyes as if it was locked and someone wanted in.
I got up and walked around to the other side, thinking it was my cat, but
I didn't see her paw and she never SHOOK the doors just nudged them apart.
I walked around to the other side of the doors through the kitchen, all
the lights were off and I saw no one. I felt very scared suddenly and went
to bed closing my door. Another time I was laying bed and my mother was
on her hands an knees sniffing the floor. A bathroom connected our rooms
and she I assume had began sniffing in the bathroom. I asked her what she
was doing, and she replied, "Your father and I smelled rotten blood."
I can't remember what happened first but I saw a clear apparition in my
living room as I tied my shoes. A man dressed in black, with a top hat
and coattails and a cane with a long black beard walked briskly through
the living room and disappeared. I had a dream that I pulled back the carpet
of my parents bedroom and saw blood stains. My cousin and I took out a
ouija board and tried to "contact" the sprits. I don't know if she was
moving them, she denies it still to this day, but I know I wasn't moving
them because I was determined to find the truth. The board told this story:
A married couple named Mark and Melissa Twain lived in the house with the
woman's sister. One day, in jealous outrage she killed them both in the
room with a shot gun. I thought it was very fishy the wife had my name
and the husbands name was Mark Twain but like I said, my cousin says she
didn't make the ouija tell the story. I was under the house one day, bored
and playing around when I found a small handful of large brass bullet casings.
Not as large as a shot gun bullet casing I don't think. Other things have
happened, I heard a knock on my door late at night. One huge knock but
I was too scared to open it. I told my father in the morning and he got
very angry and shouted at me that I was "too stupid". I don't know why
that angered him. I surmised the 'knock' was from my dog changing lying
positions on the porch. Once a baby bottle just sitting on the counter
just seemed to be thrown to the floor. My father said it was because I
stomped into the kitchen, perhaps, but the powerful way it fell I doubted
it. I was never able to tear up my parents carpet or find any information
on the house that could point me in any direction - though I did get all
the paperwork on who owned the house, and no one name TWAIN ever owned
the house. My aunt who claims to be a psychic came to our house and said
that several ghosts live there. But that was something I didn't hear myself,
another family member told me that. The house, which was always a bit odd,
had a stained glass window on the front, not very large, it was of a cross.
Later in life, I was in high school, living with a friend I was trying to go to sleep and heard someone say my name very clearly right next to my ear. I got up and asked my friend what he wanted. He was in his grandmothers room which they shared. "I didn't call you." He said. The voice didn't sound like him as his voice had a lisp as was very girlish sounding. We went to this house in the delta, abandoned and run down, as well as vandalized. I walked ahead of everyone always ready to take on whatever. As I walked passed a bush these birds just exploded from it. Before i heard no birdsong and they surprised. The house was elevated with a basement that had openings for water to flow through, everything was pretty much ruined, a door opened no where as the staircase had been brought down. It felt like a cemetery, not in a morbid sense, just so so quiet and hollow. We went to the basement where trash was everywhere. On the door which had been removed then placed back up was a crude black painting of a devil or satyr. Being mischievous I took a wooden bed frame topper. It was painted brown with a carved flower on each side painted red. After I took it home, that's when I heard the voice, my room was cold and I saw something in the garage and I had a really weird nightmare. The kitchen was being renovated so we had to wash and get dishes in the garage. I went out to get a cup and felt very nervous in there. As I was walking to leave I heard a loud boom on the wall to my right. I looked [not too long but long enough] and, this will be very hard to explain and sound crazy but this energy that waved and glistened In the shape of something human-like turned its head and looked at me...I ran out scared for my life. I had NEVER been so scared. I took the bed nob back and nothing happened like that again. The site is long since destroyed.
I am not sure what any of this means. But I do know one thing for sure, I experienced it.
I enjoyed reading about the sightings on the Queen Mary. I
don't normally believe in ghost but on my honeymoon in April 2004 we went
on the Queen Mary and took the 4 tours. The first was about the Queen
Mary as a luxury liner, the second was her used as a military ship, the
third was the ghost tour and the last you could go on your own. They
were all enjoyable, the ghost tour was entertaining. After
the first three tours we ventured out on our own.
My husband and I decided to check on some of the cabins you could look into and headed down a long hallway. As he was looking for a certain cabin number I turned around to see how far we had gone. Something caught my eye at the other end of the hall. I squinted my eyes to try and make my vision clearer. Standing at the end of the hall was a lady in a long gown that looked like off white or cream colored. It looked like she stopped at one of the cabin doors and then looked my way. I looked back with curiosity and then I swear she waved at me. I whispered to my husband to look in my direction to see if he saw her, too. He said he didn't see anything but maybe someone was dressed in the period for a tour. I laughed and said he was probably right. As we were leaving I asked a guide there if they had people dress in the period of the day and he said no they didn't. Only the tour guides wear a sort of uniform. Needless to say, I am still not sure I believe in ghosts but I know what I saw and no one will tell me different. She seemed like a very pleasant lady and I would have liked to said hello to her.
Anyway, hope you enjoy my little encounter with the mysterious lady in the hall. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
To start out my name is Charlie and I enjoy your web site. When I
was 5 years old I had my first ghost experience. I was at my Grandmothers
house near Groesbeck Texas. I used to play under my Grandmothers house
alot with my toys. There was a small opening small enough for me to craw
threw. I always go feet first then craw backwards. That particular day
I went feet first like always and started to craw under the house. I was
half way under the house until something grabbed my leg. I felt it's cold
hand grasp my ankle tight and started to pull. I remember screaming almost
fully under the house. I grabbed some tall weeds and I wrapped the weeds
around my wrist. At this time I was stretch out off the ground. The Grass
was cutting my hands and with my other leg I was kicking what ever it was
that had me. It would raise me up and hit the top part of the house and
then drop me to hit the ground. The attack didn't last long but I will
never forget. My Grandmother and my Aunt remember me screaming. The only
thing that they remember me saying was " The man the man " Maybe I did
see something that day maybe I blocked it all out who knows. I would go
under hypnosis and find out the real truth but there's the fear of seeing
what I blocked out as a child. A few days before that happen my aunt to
told me that her and a few friends we're playing a ougi board. A few other
things happen at the house but nothing since then. Well thanks for reading
this e-mail me back if you like.
Hello, there are a lot of stories on this website that give me the
creeps, but hopefully this one will touch some hearts.
My brother died a year ago on April 20, 2003, it was Easter Sunday. He was riding his new crotch-rocket motor cycle and didn't have his helmet on correctly. If he would have had his helmet on right he would have walked away from the accident with a sprained ankle (always wear your helmet and wear it correctly, it will save your mother's from worrying so much.) At the hospital my step-mother was in saying good-bye to him and she said that she could feel him hugging her and say,"I'm so sorry mom! I'm so sorry!" See he was actually my step brother, but we grew up together, so he was my brother. We have six kids in our family. I have one sister, two 1/2 brothers, and two step brothers. After the funeral, it took me at least two weeks before it actually hit me that he was gone and I was devistated. It was the kind of grief that knocks you down and doesn't let you up for a week. I was getting married in August and I was very sad that he wouldn't be there. So I put his picture in my bouquet ( I had the kind with the ribbon wrapped around the stems, he was wrapped in there, front row seat.) The day of my wedding I was thinking of him and all of a sudden I felt calm, like everything would be fine. As I walked down the isle to my husband out of the corner of eye, I thought I saw someone, and I turned my head, and there he was. He was as real as you and I and imediately had tears in my eyes. He smiled and even though he was far away, he whispered in my ear,"Did you think I'd miss this?" He stood ther for another second and then he faded away. I cried through the entire ceremony. I was happy and sad, and it was the perfect time for me to see him. I still see him, one of those out off the corner of you eye, you see him and then he's gone when you turn you head. All of my brothers and sister have seen him. I think that he stops by to let us know he's watching out for us. It was such a tragic way he died and we all took it really hard, but he let's us know that he is just fine and that he's still there. My niece who is 9 months old will be sitting there by herself and all of a sudden she will start to laugh and stares at something, I truely believe that he is her guardian angel and will look out for her as he did all of us. I miss him, but I know I will see him from time to time.
Thank you for this wonderful website. I know that those who read this are curious about this stuff as I am.
To start with, this is a bad story. You've been warned. Why I would
include the finer points of my childhood is questionable. I think it has
significance because it made me who I am, and, I believe, triggered or
created an ability in me that has been both blessing and curse, but back
then was simply a matter of survival.
Child abuse is a mild term for what we went through. Brutal sexual abuse, harrowing beatings with leather belts, mind control, brain washing and manipulation, and the unique perversion of Holy Scripture to back it all up... those were the things we grew up with. All of this came to us at the hands of both parents. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no one to tell. Early on, it seemed to become imperative that dad's mood be established when he arrived home from work. One wrong move, and it was belt city. More often than not, we'd all be the target no matter who did what. There were six of us then. Four girls, two boys. Two more boys would eventually be added. They got us ALL, man. Nobody was left alone. Nobody was safe. It became a matter of routine for the girls to snitch on the boys for something. They thought if we got beaten, he'd leave them alone. After a while I saw the routine. I'd clear the yard and go to a window and watch him get out of his car, and try to get a hold of what his mood was as he got out of the car. After a while I could do it without looking, then as a teen, I could do it when he was still a mile away. I'd usually know when a beating was coming.
One night, I was, I dunno, 17. Was going to drive over and get my friend. I left my keys in my room, went back into the house to get them. My light was off but as I knew where my keys were, I didn't need it, so I crossed the dark room. I stopped midway across, frozen in fear. I wasn't alone. the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I sensed evil, terrible danger around me. I was paralyzed. A voice said from behind me, "yeah, I'm in here." It was Dad. Waiting in the dark. No reason at all.
I grew away from him, would be pulled back. I was never far from his influence even after I married. I'd work for him at his trucking company off and on. Then I couldn't take any more of his treatment to my younger siblings or his grandchildren and I told the police about him. They both went to jail. Ten years, no kidding. See, in Maryland there's no statute of limitations on violent felonies. Ten years wasn't enough, but I took it.
While married, things began to happen. Little things at first. But one thing that was always true was, I had a low self-esteem. I was told there was something wrong with me. But I attributed the violent aversion to strangers and large groups of people to the low self-esteem. I got headaches, got sick, shook like a leaf if I went shopping with my wife. Pretty soon, I stopped doing it.
One day in our apartment I heard footsteps walking up behind my wife, Nobody was there, but again that feeling of evil and my neck hairs stood out. A few years later it happened again, this time in a different apartment. We were in our bedroom. Scared the hell out of us, we ran into the living room. Someone jumped on our bed, someone BIG, someone who wasn't there. We grabbed our two-year old daughter and ran out. My mother-in-law wasn't surprised to see us. She claimed to have had a dream wherein my daughter, Beth, was crying in her crib. Outside, th e clowns stared in, tormenting her by making faces. She blamed it on all the clowns that were around the room. She said clowns were used by evil spirits and demons who could live in them. So the next day we left, went home and my wife got rid of every clown item in beth's room. Nothing happened after that.
Few months later I lost my job. We moved in with her parents. The house in Ferndale was haunted. I already knew that from the stories her family told. But for a very long time, I either noticed nothing or ignored it completely. But then I got picked on, too. One night after finding a job working the graveyard shift I got off early and went home. It was still dark, a very calm and warm night in the summer. As I walked across the lawn, I smelled an overpowering drift of perfume. An old brand, one I hadn't smelled since childhood. A cool draft went by me. Later it happened again, this time with my dog present. I was brushing him, he started staring at something, growling. I got the willies too, but not like him, and then I smelled the perfume again. Bad news.
Nobody ever liked the basement in that house. Nobody ever wanted to spend time down there. I did, one or two years while I worked on a train layout. Most of the time I was okay. But sometimes I felt like I was being watched. When that got intense I finally put the trains away and gave up. I had been having nightmares and flashbacks for years. One night I dreamed I was packing up to leave the house, and that my marriage was over. At the end of the dream, a madri-gras-like clown walked up to me with a sickle and cut my head off. Sure enough, my marriage ended a few months later.
Renting a house in Sparrows Point, close enogh to the Beth Steel plant to feel the heat when they fired their coke ovens, I was alone for the first time since right before my wedding. Alone, in a big house. I was free but bound, in a sense worse than ever. That was one creepy house; even from the street driving in I got bad vibes and cold chills. It LOOKED evil. Inside, the only place I really avoided was the basement. Or, in the summer, the living room. My landlord would only air-condition the bedroom, so I quickly noticed a very foul smell in there. I asked him about it and never got an answer. I thought he had someone buried in the crawl space. And undercover cop had lived there before me, and I swear she offed someone and they buried the body in the basement. I've never before or since smelled anything like that. At night, though, it was always a different story. I would go to sleep peacefully only to be awakened by someone knocking on my bedroom window. There was never anyone around when I'd check, but for long minutes I'd lie there certain I was not alone. And then, some nights I would wake up for no sound or any other obvious reason, And I KNEW I wasn't alone. It was inside. I was so frightened I never moved, just prayed. I began to have intense nightmares with demons in them. They would try to reveal themselves to me but there was a voice that told me they had been prevented from doing so. One night they did, but had to do it from a distance. In the dream I saw them through the window. Five of them, big, heavy duty, scary ones, looking at me and laughing. My depression grew, I slept more and more badly, and started missing more time at work. I already missed enough as it was.
Eventually I was in over my head with rent. I couldn't afford the house or any other apartments in the area. I owed child support, and I couldn't pay it.
My ex and her husband were always cool to me. She was letting me slide on support, and I worked out an agreement where I could slide a little more. I rented a room from them and promised to help with Mikey, my son. He is disabled and was giving them fits. And I was right back in that house in Ferndale. My ex had grown up there. Recently she had bought it from her mother.
For a while things were okay, Then I lost my job. it was the best job I'd ever managed to hold down for that long, and it paid union wages. But I had so many strikes against me for missing time that when I began to have trouble sleeping, it was like a snowball rolling downhill. Why couldn't I sleep? For one thing, their dog had puppies. At odd times, in the middle of the night, they would bark and growl in a frenzy at the front door. As if someone was on the porch trying to get in. Never anyone there but the scene was enough I could never get back to sleep. During this time the worst manifestations of spiritual activity took place, and I said in my story "The Ghost of Keeners Road" I wasn't going to write about these things. But recently visiting message boards here has made me remember too many things. These, along with recent events, made me reconsider. This was a very bad time. The beginning of the really bad stuff.
One day my son and I were playing a videogame. We decided to take a break, and walked out of the room. Behind me there was a loud crash, I turned to see his Universal Soldier helicopter lying in pieces on the floor. The toy was a bid deal, about two or more feet long and heavy because it could seat two soldiers the size of a G.I. Joe in it. I went in and was amazed to look up where it had sat, on the top of a closet. It had been sitting sideways, that is, with its side facing out, yet had slid sideways on its skids to fall off. What I saw when I looked up was sca Part of a plastic bag was protruding from the edge. It was in the spot the helicopter had been, so whatever was in it was what had PUSHED the helicopter off. I didn't want to touch the bag. I was sick. The helicopter had fallen in the exact spot my son had been sitting a moment before. I took down the bag and looked. Inside was a stuffed cow, from a dairy in Baltimore his grandmother used to work at. The thing was twenty years old. When I pulled it out of the bag, I could feel evil. I threw it away. Only later did I question why we had gotten up just in time. I know we were thinking break, but there had been a quickness and real purpose to our movement until we got out the door, and then we had both been pretty aimless. We would normally have gotten a snack, but we were going the wrong way for that.
I was doing everyone's laundry back then. Yeah, the basement thing again. I was still fine down there most of the time, though, but everyone else was not. That would get worse. Toward the end, it got to where that house knew its time was up, and it pulled out all the stops to protest it. By the winter of 2003-2004, things had gotten weirder. It was uncommon for me to sleep at night. I'd hear voices, like a distant conversation was taking place. A cup would get kicked across the floor. Usually I didn't react. I wasn't thinking like a psychic, I was just surviving. And questions had never gotten me anywhere. Earlier, in the fall, I'd seen an animal unknown to me. It was four-legged but ran upright. It was a foot tall, light gray. And it was very fast. It ran up a utility pole. It was twilight, but I saw it climb up like a squirrel and jump off the top. It FLEW. Flapped its wings like a bird. I saw it on halloween too. Flew out of our yard right past my head, right out of the demon tree. The demon tree was really an oak. I called it that because in the summer my daughter had seen a shadow walk up to it and climb it. Weird stuff, man. I emailed some sites deal g with the paranormal and asked them what that animal could have been. It was so strange, you know, and looking at it had made me feel that something was WRONG. Nobody answered. So anyways, winter time. Weird things going on. By now I was scared spitless in the basement, too. I'd change laundry loads and run upstairs. My ex and her husband were in danger of losing the house. Over their heads. People would smell perfume in the house when nodody was wearing any. it was always cold away from the fireplace and space heaters. The furnace broke. The house was falling apart. Little pieces at a time, mostly, but big ones, too. And everyone seemed to fall into a kind of I-don't-care stupor. Never seen anything like it. Then they got a notice the house was in foreclosure. We started packing. I had nowhere to go. Best I could manage was a part-time job. I was about to be homeless. I helped pack anyway; what else could I do? More weirdness followed, it felt creepier and creepier in there. One night I was up late, as usual, and someone kicked the dog's water bowl so I refilled it. I turned around, washed some dishes, and heard a noise. Right behind me. I looked, and on the baker's rack, there was a can of mixed nuts rolling back and forth on its side. It had been upright a minute before. I turned around again and and continued the dishes. Heard another sound; turned around and the dog's water bowl was inverted. Upside down--and yet there was no water on the floor. And the dog was sleeping. I bent over and picked it up, and ALL THE WATER FELL OUT!!
Only now do I realize something was trying to get my attention. I wonder what the message was. I think I know. I moved in with my daughter at her base housing residence in Camp Lejeune, NC. I was leaving a few friends behind, was leaving my job such as it was, and was deeply unhappy about it. And almost the minute I got there, I felt how the place deepened my depression. Jacksonville is full of spiritual, or "psychic" ene y, none of it good. It was a pressure around me, pushing against me like water at the deep end of a pool. I hated it there. Spending time with my daughter and grandson though was golden, every minute. And I learned valuable things about myself. Like, I really COULD change a poopy diaper without throwing up. That had been impossible with my kids. Probably why my wife traded me in for another model: Can you imagine sending your husband to change a poopy diaper and then having to come in and clean up poop AND vomit?
My daughter got a book on psychic abilities, and suddenly so many things made sense to me. But it caused trouble, too. We all slept well at night when I got there. Then little Anthony began waking up at night. For a two-year old that's fine. He would get a sippie cup, lay back down, and go back to sleep. But then he avoided going in his room, and eventually would wake up every night about an hour after going to sleep. Wouldn't go back to sleep until daylight sometimes, sometimes maybe around 4. It was getting worse. He'd wake up screaming. Beth would try her best to leave him in there after changing him and getting a drink, but something was spooking him. When i saw him in the day time go into his room and drag toys out to the living room, I felt uneasy. When I saw him drag his whole toy box out, I KNEW something was wrong. Not knowing what else to do, I used the book, staarted with a prayer and meditation, and when Anthony would go to bed, I would hold my hands toward his room, palms out, close my eyes and picture blue liquid light going in his room. Following the stream, I would mentally go in there and see him surrunded in the liquid, knowing it would calm and soothe him. It worked. So well it scared me. He would wake up, I would try it out, and he would go back to sleep, no sippie cup even.
This went on for about a week, maybe more, then it stopped working so well. I asked God to reveal the problem, and saw two big holes in two walls of Anthony's room. I guessed demonic spirits were getting in there, so I asked God to post sentries. They came, too: Two in the long wall and one in the shorter one. Facing out, never looking in. Daring something to come and try to get in. Funniest thing: I had never pictured angels as looking like them. Their robes, or whatever, weren't white. They were stained by age and battle. Scary things, those were.
I had to leave. The military doesn't give a hoot if family members are homeless; if you ain't enlisted or the spouse of an enlistee, you don't belong. They limit your stay to thirty days. My ex-mother in law put me up. I'm currently trying to win approval for disability benefits.When I got back, I no longer had any friends. They regarded me somewhat as a looney. My letters to them while I was away were too emotional. That always scares people. Story don't end yet, though. The house in Ferndale was bought at auction; its owners are currently awaiting permits to tear it down. The land it was built on covered three lots. You know the deal. But that house's current tenants won't give up. Just today, Beth called and said Anthony isn't sleeping in his room anymore. Not at all. She's not sleeping well, either. She's having truly disturbing dreams about that old house. It's pulling her to go back. Worse, two elderly women appear in her dreams. They, too seem to be demanding she come back and tend to them... in that house. One of them is the perfume lady, I know it is. Hopefully posted here are two photographs: One shows Anthony in the room he will no longer sleep in, right next to the spiritual hole. It is through this hole that I believe evil spirits, and ghosts, are entering her home. One of which is the perfume woman. The other pic is from when we all visited th USS North Carolina in Wilmington. We toured it, all had a good time; it is truly something worth seeing. But when they went below, I looked down the stairs and refused, remaining on deck. I got bad vibes. Later I saw pictures they had taken, and in one of them you can see a face. If it works, click on the ohoto, enlarge it and search an area where there's a pole. It looks like a woman beckoning. Her hair is dark, parted in the middle.
I look back on my life and wonder how it ever got so screwed up: at 44, I'm jobless, suffer from depression and flashbacks, I'm scared of the dark, and I doubt my sanity. I feel like a loser. A failure in everything I've ever tried. And I seem to have had a malignant ghost use me to open a doorway for her. How I did it, I don't know. I just know I caused it. It couldn't possibly have been there before. I look back to my childhood, where it all started. I wonder if my sensitivity to spirits and ghosts would have developed without the trauma. I look back and want one thing: I wish my old man would come visit me as one. I'd shove a cross up where the sun don't shine.
When my daughter was around three and a half, she started telling me about her "friend". Her bedroom window was over the garage of our home we had lived in for a little less than a year. She always went to bed without any problems until one evening. She woke me up at around three in the morning and told me that there was a little boy outside her window. I told her she had a dream and to go back to sleep. She didn't mention anything the next morning, so I assumed that was what it was. Several nights later, she came into my room again and told me the little boy was back. We both went back to her room and of course I didn't see anything. This went on and off for a few weeks. One day I asked her to describe what the little boy looked like. She told me he was little like her, had "yellow" (blonde) hair, and sat on a really pretty cloud. He doesn't talk to her, he just watches her. After several more midnight wake-ups from my daughter, I decided to sleep with her in her room. Around three o'clock again, my daughter woke me up and told me to look out the window. There was a mist hovering over the roof, it was pinkish with green and yellow. Just barely I could make out a face. It was the little boy. I've never in my life ever experienced the sudden calm I felt when I looked at him. I saw him a few times more after that. This was when my daughter told me her secret. She had climbed out of the window one day when I was busy baking. That night the little boy shook his head "no" at her. He stopped coming to her window about a month after I first saw him. The following month, we found out that there was a small boy who lived in our house about fifteen years ago. He fell off of the garage roof to his death at the age of four. I will never forget him and how he kept my daughter safe. Needless to say, she no longer occupies that room, and there are child latches on all of our windows
In Roseville, Mi down thridteen mile road past haper there's a old
pub. Behind this pub is a play ground the owner put up to help out the
local kids so they wouldn't have to cross the busy road to find a place
to play. It was in this play ground a little five year old girl went to
play daily since her house was two lots away and she could hear her mother
calling. Her family was to poor to get any real toys beside the odd doll
so the playground was a blessing to this family.
One day the little girl went to play there and she didn't come home. The mother called for about ten minutes and started to panic she ran to the play ground and there on the twrilly slide was her daughter dead. She'd worn a hoodie to keep warm and going down the lace got caught and it strangled her. She was to little to understand how to get out of it. The owner of the pub was horrifed as the mother came in babbling to call 911.
The owner told the police what happened for the mother while she was nearly crazed with griff and promised to watch the park better.
Now this is where it get's weird. The owner of the pub heired four people to watch the park and children that came through out the day. All went well the frist two weeks and then the thrid man who watched it 3 to 7 p.m., around the time the girl died, said he'd watch a little girl in a hoodie climb the slide ladder and as she slide down she was caught and started to gasp for air. The man rushed to help the child but when he went to touch her she vanished. The man promitly quit and that was that for him. Every person that's taken the time slot has seen it.
When you drive down the rode at night if you turn your lights off and pass by the park you see a child playing. Then you come back up and have your lights on or off the little girl will be hanging there. It's creepy.
My friends and I did it and she was there. The poor girl looked so happy playing and coming back was the worst thing I could imagen. She just laided there limp and the face had the look of shock and pain. I'm a nurse's daughter and I've seen dead bodies and the dieing. Unless the face is touched, if you die with an expression it stays on your face and in that creepy blank stare you swear you can see death staring back at you. No living being can stare like that. I never travel both ways on that street and never will again.
Trying to get back on Track
I have a ghost experience I would like to share my current house
when ever I come home at night and I walk by the window in the dining room I hear a man's voice
I have heard this from the time I moved in almost four years ago. I don’t feel threatened by him or do I get any bad feelings about him being in the room. in fact most of the time I just hear him whispering like he is having a conversation with someone that I can not see or hear. sometimes he is a little mischievous but never in a threatening way. on a few occasions when I am alone and sitting in the living room watching T.V. with my back to the dining room I have heard the buttons on the microwave being pressed. and when I get up to look the numbers on the screen are going crazy and scrolling from 0 to 9. I have stood in the door way that leads to the dining room/kitchen and watched the handle on my toaster move like it is being pressed but I am the only one in the house. I have heard the springs in the toaster bounce like whatever was being toasted (nothing that I used) was done. I have turned the oven on and I know I left the knob on 350, I turned around to get everything ready on the cookie sheet and when I turned back around to see if the oven was ready the knob was on 500.
there was another experience in my house that had nothing to do with the male ghost but it also took place in the dining room. my cousin and her then two year old son were living with us trying to get their lives back in order. my cousin's son was sleeping on the loveseat that at the time was in the dining room because my husband thought that we needed a couch in there. well anyway one night I was checking on my cousin's son. he was sleeping and I could hear his mom sleeping from where I stood. I went back into the back bedroom which is off of the dining room and I turned off the light. I heard a female voice say goodnight to the little boy so I went running back in there. no one was in the room with him and he was exactly as I left him so I went to his mom's room and woke her up to see if she was playing a trick on me but she was to groggy to even understand what I was saying. I went back into the bedroom and my husband who was still awake asked me if it was my cousin he heard and I said no. then I asked him if he had heard it and he said yeah some woman just told monkey boy (my husband's name for the little boy) good night. but that was the one and only time we have ever heard a female voice coming from anywhere in the house. the only explanation we could come up with was that my granny had died a few days before and her funeral had been either that day or the day before and it was her way of saying goodbye to us all.
My first paranormal experience was when i was in the third grade
about 8 or 9 years old. I am now 20. My friend Crystal lived
in a very old rundown house outside of town with her parents and 7 other
brothers and sisters. She asked me to come stay the night one night.
I had heard stories about there house but thought nothing of it.
I had never believed in ghosts or such. Anyway, we spent the
afternoon and evening playing in the fields behind and around her house
like kids do. Around 10pm everyone got ready and went to bed.
About 12 midnight something woke both of us up. We were sleeping in the same bed and both of us sat up and listened. There was a creaking sound coming from outside. We both got up and went to the window and looked out. They had an old silo in front of there house about 50 yards away from the front door. We watched a little boy open the door. But he wasnt like a normal boy. I could see the door through him as he climbed in. He then shut the door.
We both looked at each other for a while and were about to go downstairs and wake her parents up to tell them someone was messing around in the silo when we heard screaming coming from the silo. We both froze. Thats when her parents ran outside. They said they went to the silo and looked in it but noone was there. By the time they came back into the house the rest of the kids were awake. We all were to scared to sleep alone so everyone including her parents slept on the floor in the living room.
Everyone had just gotten settled when the radio in the kitchen came on at full blast playing rock music. (weird thing is they listened to nothing but country music!) Crystals mom jumped up and unplugged it. Then the tv came on at full blast and thats when i started screaming "I want to go home". So at about 2am they took me home and i never stayed the night there again.
Crystal said weird stuff happened all the time but nothing like what happened that night. Usually just stuff would disappear then turn up a few days later in obvious places. I dont know if that house is still standing or not because my family and i moved about a year later to the other side of missouri. But there was something freaky going on there.
My name is Cindy and I thought i would send this story. My husband
Ronnie and I moved back to our hometown of Hamilton Ohio last April to
an apartment on the west side of town. We live on the third floor of the
apartment building.There are only two buildings in the apartment complex.We
both have had strange things happen to us in this apartment. It all started
not to long after we moved in. I was sitting in a recliner watching tv
when i noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. when i would turn
to look at it it would vanish. from what we both have seen its a man in
dark clothing. most of the activity seems to center around the hallway
into the living room. Also george(as we call him) loves to turn the lights
off and on but what really makes me mad is when he shuts off the television.
He seems to get real pleasure out of this! I have to say he does it more
to Ronnie than me! at first we thought i might be the remote and after
checking that out. it keeps happening.
Ronnies oldest son adam who is nine came to visit with us one weekend. After coming in i asked him to put his bookbag in my bedroom in the corner. He came out into the living room and asked who was the man standing next to the bed?I asked him what man? knowing full well ronnie and I are the only living people here! I asked him to show me of course when we all went to the bed room nothing was there.The thing was. We never said a word to anyone of this. Adam did describe the dark clothing.
And Adam sees him when he comes to visit. He says hello first thing when he walks in the apartment to george. George loves to turn the kitchen lights off and on from time to time; We had the lights changed in it and wiring checked to make sure it was;nt electrical in nature. He still plays with the lights. On several occasions while reading george likes breath heavy. I at first thought it was me. After holding my breath for a few seconds. it was'nt me! and the air conditoner was turned off and no outside noises could be heard.I tell george i don;t mind him reading over my shoulder but to please breath quietly! lol . also George likes to play video games. this i can;t explaine all i can say is the game is not on demo mode and he actually scores.
also one night i got up to go into the kitchen when i turned the hall light on i thought i saw a little girl sitting on the floor. but then again i could have been dreaming. the only thing we can come up with is that this apartment complex mostly older folks live her ronnie and i being in our fourties does;nt count us as old! I talked to the apartment manager and she really knows nothing about our apartment all we know is the apartments were built in 1972. I have'nt got a camera as yet. but definitly want to get one.
living with george is fun. As ghosts don;t bother me at all.They are still a part of life. And hes welcomed here anytime@
Homosassa, Florida. Probably one of the scariest places on earth! As a child my nanny and mother would repeatedly scare my sister and I with ghost stories, lock us on the screened-in porch and call the yetties (a Bigfoot like creature) on us. So after about 11 years of torture it was a challenge to scare me. My sister and I used to play down the street with the Hampton twins, two little girls our age we would have sleepovers on the porch just about every Saturday night bring out the sleeping bags, the whole sha-bang. One late afternoon my sister and I were putting our sleeping bags on the porch and getting ready for the twins to come over as the afternoon turned to night we were curious where they were. My mother and nanny were at the post office at one of those Tupperware parties about 2 miles down the road (remember a very small swamp town you can walk everywhere) So my sister and I decided to go to the twins house and see what was taking them so long, because all of the mothers were at the local Tupperware party we knew we could leave the porch and make it there and back and not get caught. We started to walk down the dirt road with our flashlights, scared we might get caught because it was the only road in and out of the house mom and my nanny might decide to come home so me being as brave as I was then I told my sister I knew a short cut through a small patch of woods that would take us right up to the twins backyard. After being in the woods that looked a lot smaller in the daylight for at least 20 minutes (the walk should have taken about 5 min.) My sister starts to panic and wants to turn around. Well that would have been easy if I were not lost. We kept walking in the same direction that we had been figuring that eventually we would make it to the twin’s backyard. My sister noticed something ahead of us and asked me if I saw it I though she was trying to scare me but when I look hard enough I saw it too. Directly in front us about 30 feet away were four red dots coming closer and closer to us. As we got closer to the four red dots things started to take form and then I realized what it was. The twins. I have NEVER been as scared as I was that night. Making a mad dash running, screaming and crying back the way we came from thank God my mother and nanny were on there way home and herd all the commotion and was able to get us out of the woods by the sound of there voice. That is not even the scary part after telling my mom and nanny why we were hysterical with fear I was expecting complete doubt but instead it was like my mom and nanny already knew that there was something wrong with the twins, never telling us why they were not shocked and comforting us out of our scared state. So my advice to you if you’re ever passing through Homosassa, Florida stay out of the woods because that is where they play
I send them as I think of them, but this may be that last because
other than stuff that happened to my parents, I'm out of experiences.This
story spans several years, as the events are isolated, but all connected.
At least we think.
My dad's house is only about 20 yrs old, so we never really thought it to be haunted. Not until my sister and I sat talking last summer and pieced together over 10 yrs of strange things that alone were just strange, but together were more. We were talking about the cat, Chloe. She's real old and bitchy, and this got us on the subject of when she used to sleep with us before she became antisocial kitty. My sister, Shelly, asked rather sheepishly if I had ever felt the covers pull and the bed sag like someone was sitting there in the night. I said I felt that all the time and I had just kicked poor Chloe off the bed. Shelly said, "Think real hard. Did it ever happen and you looked but there was no one?" I said that I had, but I just thought she left. The I realized then all those time I kicked, I never came in contact with any cat. I can remember pulling the covers much harder then it would take to dislodge a little kitty. Shelly looked at me very seriously and said, "That's when it sat in your bed. It used to do it to me too." I was like, "it??" She seemed disturbed and told me that she used to feel something there sometimes and once she even woke up to see a shadowy man with red eyes looking at her from the corner of our room. She said it was real, and I believe her but I never saw anything. We don't know who it was on our beds at night, shadow man or something else. I'm hoping it was something else.
After getting on this subject, there was no going back. We talked about other stuff that had happened. My dad has an fice on the bottom level of the house, (It's a split level) and that room always scared us. We always looked in it with caution and ran past it at full tilt to get up the stairs. We always raced up those stairs like something was chasing us, climbing over eachother to get to the top first and leave the other for it. I still do it, and I'm 22 now. Shelly said that when she was in that room on the computer, she would hear somebody call her name. So she would go to the stairs and call up to my grandmother, "What?" My grandmother hadn't called her, and it wasn't Chloe. She wasn't the only one who heard her name being called. My dad heard his too.
One night, he had fallen asleep on the spare bed that was down there with a large knit blanket over him. If he got hot in the night he usually just pushed the blanket off in a heap. Well, this particular night he woke up because he said he heard someone shout his name. He said it sounded like they were standing right over the bed and yelled, "Michael!!" It scared the hell out of him. Then he noticed the blanket was gone. When he looked over the side of the bed there it was on the floor..only it was neatly folded. Blankets dont fall off beds in the middle of the night and fold themselves. Later when he got up for work, he asked my grandmother why she was shouting his name and why she had folded the blanket he was using on the floor. She said she slept soundly all night and had no clue what he was takling about.
We never really figured out what was happening down there, but it seems to have calmed down. I still get a little uneasy there at night, but I never heard my name called or anything. The only explanation I can think of would be my Pop-Pop who died in 90. He loved us, and we were so young when he passed. That would explain the bed sitting, the names, and the folding. (He was a neat freak like you wouldn't believe) That dosen't explain the shadow man with the red eyes or the discomfort associated with the office. Perso lly, I would like to think my Pop-Pop as a plesant ghost and a happy one. But who knows? We sure don't.
My Ghost story: Executioners visit
There isn't much to this Story, as it happened quite a while ago and I have a very bad memory; but When i was 12-13, My brother and I were spending the night at a friends house. All was fine and good until we went to bed, at about 10:00 pm. We slept for a while, then i was awakened out of unconscious( I'm a VERY heavy sleeper) for no apparent reason. This wasn't a groggy waking, but a bam! wide awake kinda thing. The kinda waking that tells you something ain't right.. I surveyed the room without so much as twitching, Scanning the ceiling and walls to the immediate left and right of me. After a few minutes and the feeling of unease not going away, i glanced at the door. Now the set up of the room was really simple. I was lined up to look right out the door and hallway window, and could see my cousins front porch light. Anyway, as i glanced down at the door, i saw a blue white thing About 6-7 feet tall and too wide to fit in the door normally. It just stood there and looked at me, all the while holding its double-bladed Axe. And this whole time, i could still see my cousins front porch light! This figure scared me voiceless, so i couldn't wake my brother or my friend. I noticed that his face seemed covered, as though by a mask, similar to an executioners mask. That was too much for me, so i hid under my blanket. Once i came back out, it was gone, and i just passed back out.
I feel that I have had a few experiences with the 'unknown' , but
here I will tell one story.
When I was 9 years old my father commited suicide on my Grandparents farm. He was
going through a rough divorce from my step mother. Sadly to say, he shot her and her
new boyfriend before shooting himself. The only one that died was my Dad. Naturally it
really bothered me to stay at the farm after that happened. I don't know eather to 'blame'
it on the fact my dad shot himself there or the eerie feeling I would get while being there.
I always felt like someone was watching and I can remember the dogs acting out of
sorts...barking and growling at something. Something none of us could see. They were
usually worse at night and Grandpa would always say "They are barking at a rabbit or
some animal in the yard." ---OK, well usually the dogs would chase anything away that
came into the yard!
Around 1993 my Grandparents quit farming and sold the farm to someone who now rents
it out. About a year ago I found out that 3 famlies have left the farm because of the
strange things that happen there. Like the water and stove burners turning on by
themselves and the sight of a man walking around the farm, and waking to someone
standing in the hall watching people sleep. (my dad) Well, after hearing this I went to
the town where the farm is located by and found out who is living there now. I talked to
the guy and he gave me permission to go out there and look around. I did. Although I
did not see anything, but I still had the feeling that I was not alone. I so badly want to
'see' all of this for myself but don't know if I should. I have heard when one commits
suicide they go to hell. So I am sad to think that maybe it could be a 'bad' spirit.
I'm going to submit another story. I know I just sent two yesterday,
but I guess I had almost forgotten this one until now. I didn't realize
how many experiences I actually have had!
The story takes place when I was in the 6th grade..probably about 94 or so. I was 12 at the time, and other than the dream about my Grandfather (see "A Final Farewell") I had not experienced anything I could call a ghost. (I actually did, I just didn't realize it until I confirmed it with my sister last summer. A full 10 years later. But that's another story.)
It was late July, and it was HOT. I can't say that New Jersey gets brutal in the summer, but this night was stifiling. I was staying at my friend "Tara's" house. The house was newly built and huge, as was the family. She was the youngest of 5, so there were always people around. We were in her living room watching MTV, like the cool kids we were. (Yeah...right). We started telling tales to frighten each other. She decided to throw in a true one to my Bloody Mary and Hooker Man crap. It wasn't long till I found out just how true her story was. She told me of her uncle. We'll call him Charley, mostly because I can't remember exactly the name. It did start with a C, though. He had died when she was tiny, bu he had loved her the moment he set eyes on her. She said that she used to see him when she was little, he would appear at her crib if she cried too long. She also said the he followed the family, kind of like a guardian angel. She said she saw him from time to time and it never botherd her. I told her I would like it if he would keep himself to himself while I was there. BIG MISTAKE.
Later that night, we had retired to her room. Now picture theis...It was late, maybe 12, late for kids. Her room was on the front corner on the second floor. The door was locked from the inside, to keep pesky siblings at bay. I was in her top bunk, she was on the floor with a candle. It was the kind set in a large jar. The radio was on, and again it was hot. The windows were shut and we had a small fan blowing, not really doing mush to help the heat.
I was leaning over bunk talking to her, the windows were behind her. I had forgotten all about Charley at this point. I was about to say something to her, when I stopped because I thought I saw something at the window. It looked like a man's head and shoulders, and he was wearing a hat. I commented on this, she said, "Barb, we're on the second floor." Thinking it was nothing I went to speak again, and the radio fuzzed. Perfect reception all night, what was going on? Without warning, it got cold, and I mean cold. I was freezing in my thin nightshirt, after all it was like 90 in that room two seconds before. I looked down at her and she was looking all around the room, like she was watching something or looking for something. The radio disturbance got worse, and as I watched, the candle blew out. It's in a jar!! You have to blow down in to the jar to put it out! Besides, the windows were closed and there was no way the fan did it. I put the covers over my head...yeah now it can't get me, right?She was screaming,"Charley!! Charley, stop it!! You're scaring her!! It's not funny Charley! I'll tell mom!" I couldn't understand why she would hreaten a ghost with tattling, but I guess it worked. The temp slowly began to rise, and the radio became clear again. She relit the candle, I was still under the blankets. She told me to come out cause he wouldn't come back. She said he must have taken offense to my comment, and just wanted to play. Apparently, he always "plays" with guests. I asked her about her therat, and she told me he never liked to have his sister mad at him. She said it always stopped him and he would behave.
Needless to say, I had a very restless sleep that night. Charley never did come back when I was there. I lost touch with that girl when we went to highschool. As I said, I almost forgot the story. But now I wonder if her and Charley are still scaring the pants of unsuspecting guests.
If you haven't got LOVE, then you haven't got anything at all. :)
Haunts of Old New Castle, DE
My experience happened in Old New Castle, Delaware, one of the oldest
and most well-preserved colonial towns in the U.S. It is mentioned
in Leslie Rule's book, "Coast to Coast Ghosts" under "Most Haunted", and
also on your website.
It took place at Amstel House, which is a few streets down from the Old Courthouse. I went there with my friend, mostly to see sites, and in the back of my mind, I was hoping to see or feel something a little paranormal.
As soon as we walked into the house, I felt all kinds of things, I don't know if they were emotions or a presence or what, but I had a slight asthma attack. George Washington had been in the house, and there in the fireplace floor was the date he was there and his name. All kinds of important people had lived there, and even a pirate or two had "visited" the house. Anyway, I KNEW this house had "tenants." Upstairs was where it all happened. The guide took the two of us (we were the only people on the tour) into the master bedroom, which was dimly lit with one floor spotlight. There was a portrait on the wall by the bed and above the dresser. It felt as if the eyes bore into you. As soon as the guide started speaking, the floor light flickered and went out. None of us were near the wires or light itself. Then, I felt something behind me and heard a creak on the stair landing, it was so pronounced that my head snapped around to see what it was. The guide seemed perplexed, and she said, "Hmmm...that's strange." I immediately began snapping photos with my Canon AE1 SLR camera, my flash lighting up the room. I knew if I was going to get something on film, that was the time to take pictures. The guide got the light to come back on, and we made our way downstairs. I was surprised when she admitted, "Well, some of the other guides have mentioned to me some strange happenings occurring here in the house..." If you asked guides in any of the other museums, they'd give you this speech about how they couldn't say if anything paranormal was there (in other words, there is). There has to be in places where life-changing historical events have occurred. I had been on many other tours in many other houses there, and NEVER experienced what I did there at Amstel House that day.
One of the strangest things happened after I got home.
I was excited to see what I had captured on my film. I had been using my camera since I was 14, and I'm almost 24 now. I took numerous photo classes in hs, developed rolls and rolls of film from that camera and always got excellent results, never had a problem. I had just put a new battery and brand new roll of film in before our little excursion. I am telling you this because the roll that I took of Old New Castle and Amstel House that day and had developed...was completely blank.
I've written before, with tales of my parents' house in Oklahoma. I want to relate something that happened to me when I was very young, around 2 years old. I lived in a ranch-style home with my parents. It was located across the street from a high school. Because I was so young, my memories are foggy, but I want to tell what I know.
I remember going to bed at night in my own room, and waking later to move to my parents' bed because I was afraid. This happened most nights. I would lay in my parents' room between them while they slept, and try to get back to sleep. At this point, while I was awake, three figures would walk into the room and stand on my mom's side of the bed looking at me. I could not wake my parents on any of the occasions that this happened. The figures were shadows, with no real shape, but I could see their eyes and mouths. They would bite my fingers as I lay in my parents' bed. Thirty years later, I still recall how frightened I was. I would wake in the morning with bite marks and blood on my fingers, but my parents believed I was biting myself in my sleep. Finally, on one of their visits, I held out both hands and showed them all of my fingers at the same time. For some reason, this caused them to shrink back, and I was able to wake my mom up. When she woke up, they disappeared. We moved from that house when I was three into a home that was built for my parents. I do not remember anything happening in that second house.
We moved again when I was 9, into a larger house, because I now had a 4 year old brother, and we needed more room. My parents live in that house to this day, and it has many strange stories connected to it, including a ghostly apparition that can only be seen from the knees down. More on that another time...
Thank you, and if you have had similar experiences with shadowy entities biting you, please contact me via email.
My niece, Emma was only a little over a year old when my mother passed
away after an unsuccessful battle with bone cancer. My mother was only
57 and her illness took us all by surprise because she was one of the healthiest
people we knew. She had specified that in the event that she was on life
support, she wished to have it removed and be allowed to pass. As difficult
as it was, my father, sister and I complied with her wishes. She was not
conscious, but before having life support removed, we said our tearful
goodbyes in case she could hear us, and, as she had a wonderful sense of
humor and love of life, I asked that if she was able to, that she play
jokes on us or visit once in awhile because I was going to miss her terribly.
It was especially difficult for my sister, who was pregnant with her second
child when my mother died. She had hoped Mom would live to see her second
grandchild. Emma, her first grandchild, was speaking by the time Mom passed
away – not always clearly, but you could understand a lot of what she said.
She had called my mother “Gommy” because “Grandma” just wasn’t working
for her. One day my sister was changing Emma’s diaper and Emma began staring
intently over my sister’s shoulder at something. She then burst into a
fit of giggles and smiles and began to point at the ceiling behind my sister
saying, “Gommy!” My sister froze, unable to turn around, the hair on the
back of her neck electrified. “Emma,” she asked, “Is Gommy here?” Emma
nodded enthusiastically and kicked her feet and laughed and laughed and
continued to point. Gradually, Emma settled down and the energy in the
room seemed to settle, too. My sister finally asked Em if Gommy was still
there and Em sighed and shook her head “no”.
That was only one of Mom’s visits. I will send more later.
I am now 21 years of age. My mum and step dad Steve had just bought
a brand new house in 1993 (I was only 13). It was about a year after we
moved in when little things started to happen like we would be watching
the TV and we would hear the floor broad’s creek, we just put it down to
them moving due to the heating.
One time I was peeling the potatoes in the kitchen singing along to my fab tape went it stopped (I just thought it was the end of the tape) I went into the living room to turn it over when I noticed that it was recording (to do this you need to stop the tape, press play and the record button together.) I listened to the tape and it was just silence. I found that a bit creepy.
Over the year’s thing’s kept happening.
I few thing’s would happen when my mum was up stairs listening to the radio when it would suddenly get louder, playing about mum would shout to turn it back down and it did. (Think that frightened her a bit). Even I was walking through from the kitchen to the living when I saw the volume knob move on its own.
My step dad would see something walk past him thinking it was my mum and then to find out that was she still up stairs.
He came down stairs one morning to found out that the picture of him and mum was in the middle of the living room the right way up still stand. It couldn’t have fallen as it wouldn’t have been standing and the glass would have been broken.
ne night I was in bed I was woken up by some strange whispering, half asleep I didn’t think much of it. I asked my mum and step dad if they came into the room but they never did.
I moved out about 2 years ago leaving them there.
Since I have left thing’s are still happening, but they have just got used to it, they even talk to “it” sometime when strange things happen.
We have found out that the field the houses are built on was an old coal mine.
Thanks for reading J
A TRUE HAUNTED EXPERIENCE
Sunnyvale, California Washington St. August 1
My grandmother was diagnosed with cancer, she had an operation. The doctors that operated her said it was a success. A couple of years later she had a set back that lead to her death. I would like to share a bit of my relationship with her, so that you will not doubt my out of this world experience. I was mostly raised by my grandmother, she was my best friend , rock and hero . The love she had given to me was so deep that when I first learned from my Mother and her doctor that her day's were counted my world came crashing down on me!. I felt lost, alone , scared and is if the life was being sucked right out of me. At the age of sixteen I would not only experience such a loss, but also an encounter not of this world. Before I share my experience I would like to tell my readers that I am Catholic and come from great faith. It was a weekday in the late afternoon I was feeling sad and trying to cope with the fact that my grandmothers day was soon to come. I was with my best friend, out side in front of my house when a man that to me looked homeless came walking up to us. The first words that he said to us ; I am hungry and tired. Do you know that people vanished before my eyes as I sat in a foot ball game in the San Francisco stadium?. Some people say my Mom is crazy!. My first thought that came in to my mind was that he was weird, crazy... but I felt a need to hear him out and talk with him. I told him to wait, my best friend and I went in my house I made him a sandwich and took it to him. He didn’t eat right then, he just thanked me and left. That night I walked into the bedroom that I shared with my grandma, I finally broke down and cried. I begged her not to die, for her not to ever leave me!. I told her if she died I wanted to die along with her , I would not want to live any more. I hugged her tight in my arms and cried to her, she looked up at me and said; I will never leave you I will be with you ware ever you go with tears in her eyes. My mom heard me crying and came in the room and took me out. she asked if I told my grandma that she had cancer I said no. You see my grandma never knew she had cancer. The next day early in the morning my Grandma was in sever pain, she asked to be taken to the hospital, as she was leaving she looked up in the sky and then took one last look at the house and neighborhood and said to me; This will be the last day I come back here with tears in her eyes. I held back my tears an helped her in the car. She was checked in. The doctor came up to me and my mother and told us that she only had days to live. I cried, felt weak and couldn’t except. Later that day I was at home with my sister. I didn’t want to stay inside the house so we went out side. I then saw the same man that had came yesterday, walking up the street toward me. He came up to me and said could you believe that my own house closed the door on me? I'm tiered and hungry, I then told him to go to Saint Martin's Church and ask for help. He then responded that he had just came back from there. He told me they shut the doors on him and turned him away. Again I felt bad for him and asked him to wait. My sister felt scared and came inside with me. She told me we should stay inside, the man scared her. I then grabbed a banana and some grapes and took her out side with me. I walked up to the man and gave him the fruit. he said thank me and then told me that I had to be strong. He told me that some one very dear to me was going to die in three day's and he was here to prepare me and to tell me to be strong. I freaked out, I felt a chill and for a moment I felt scared!!. I didn’t even ask him how he knew of my Grandma's condition I was confused and some what scared. I knew at that point my sister saw that I was freaked out !. I believe she asked us to go in that she was scared!. At that point the man again thanked me and told me that he would not forget me or what I did for him. I couldn’t respond for some reason, until he was about ten to fifteen feet away I suddenly yelled and called out to him, what's your name ? he took a step or two and turned around and said; People call me DOG . I then thought this guy is crazy, but right then he said; To you spelled backwards. At that point I grabbed my sister and we went inside the house. I didn’t understand what he said by that. I then grabbed a pen and a paper and spelled DOG backwards and to my shock it spelt "GOD". The next day right before twelve midnight my Grandmother passed away. I never saw him again. Right after my Grandmother died, we prayed the traditional Rosary prayer for her in the bedroom that we used to share and we would hear foot steps through the hall that would drag just like she would walk in her final days. We also heard the dishes rattle in the kitchen almost ten minutes after the hospital called the house to let us know she passed. My aunt and I were sitting on the sofa and we felt as if some one sat down on it right beside us, right after the phone call. Mostly every one in the house heard noises in the bedroom ware we once slept. I could no longer sleep in that room, I was afraid I don’t know why. I know my Grandmother would never scare me, it was just the thought of knowing she was no longer here. We no longer live in the house. My Mother bought a house in San Jose, Ca. I still can feel her presence especially in my times of trouble and need. I know that she is with the lord. She was "VERY" religious and always did right by the people around her. I wonder if her presence is still felt at 466 East Washington St ??. If so God Bless her and may she rest in peace. The other thing that puzzles me is that I wasn’t ever able to remember the mans face. I can only remember that he had dark brown hair up to his neck, a beard and he was dressed with dirty jeans a undershirt and a trench coat. Was the man really GOD ? or a Evil spirit thriving on my agony? I don’t know. If any one has experience some thing like this please post it on this site. It's been almost twenty and the mystery still haunts me.
A Final Farewell
In May of 1990, my grandfather died from complications of Altzhimers
and a bad heart. I was 7 at the time, and completely crushed. I was closer
to him than I was to any of my family, even my parents. We shared many
special times together,playing, napping, or just talking. He used to love
to tell me stories of my dad when he was little, the toys or friends he
had and things they used to do. Anything to make me smile; he was my best
friend. I took his death very hard.
After the funeral, we all attempted to go back to our lives. I thought about him all the time, and I still do. Then one night, something happened that assured me he was still with me. It was early July of the same year, near my 8th birthday. I had a dream about him. I saw him standing in a stark white room, like a hopsital, only brighter. He was smoking a cigar, and smiling at me. I beagn to cry beacuse I missed him.Without a word, he beagn to puff smoke rings and other shapes. I smilied a little at this, and he beamed at me. He had such a warm and wonderful smile. Then he was gone, and I was watching a familiar little boy play with an old fashioned toy truck. It looked like a fire engine. I realized that I was looking at my dad as a little boy in the 50's. I looked around and saw that I was standing in my grandparents driveway. They w e both there also, watching him play. Then my grandfather looked at me and smiled again. I woke up, sobbing but strangely happy.
Some years later, I was speking with my grandmother about him, as we ofetn did. I decided that it was time to tell her about my dream. I realyed it to her, just as I have to you. She told me that he had in fact died in the hospital, in a room that was strangely whiter than most. She also verfied that fact that when she met him in the 40's, he smoked cigars. He quit long before I was born, so I had no idea. We agreed on the fact that he blew the smoke shapes to amuse me. (Remember, anything to make me smile). And even in death, he continued to share bits about my dad with me by showing me one, shining, happy moment from a memory.
To this day, and I am now 22, that dream is as clear as ever. I generally do not recall more than bits and pieces of what I dream. I think, however, that one will stay with me forever. After all, I wasn't allowed to see him near then end, and I didn't get to say goodbye. It made me very happy that he made a special trip just to put me at ease. But then again, that's the special kind of person he was. I miss you Pop-Pop and I love you.
If you haven't got LOVE, then you haven't got anything at all. :)
A Couple of Ghost Stories
First story: I was 11 when this happend. I was spending the night
at my best friends house. It was a pretty Victorian house. It still had
the orginal 'barn', it was in the back. But anyway, one night we were staying
up well past our bed time, down in the living-room, watching tv and talking.
Well her room which was were we supposed to be, was dictecly over the living-room.
Well we were sitting there and all of the sudden we heard what sounded
like something being dragged the length of her bedroom. It was something
heavy. we were so scared, so we stopped talking and muted the tv to listen.
it sounded almost like a dead body, all you could hear, was Thump, Thump,
Slide. Thump thump, slide. It was freaky. We checked on everyone and everyone
2nd Story: This is my fiance's story. He is in Germany right now, he would probley be mad at me for telling this, but i have to cuz it scared me. Anyway, hes not the type of guy to get scared very easily. He doesnt believe in ghosts. We live in a town called Tacoma, its south of Seattle. anyway, a port town of tacoma is lakewood, in this town in a old insane alyum that was torn down about (guessing) thirty years ago. And then rebuilt across the street (go figure) its called Western State. My fiance and a couple of his friends went to the hospital for the fun of it. (the ruins are still there) they were down in the basement, which also happens to be the boiler room. They were walking around down there and came around a corner and saw a bunch of bags and such. They figured a bum was staying down there, so they turned to leave. Dave is a pretty small guy so he got pushed to the back, as he was about to heave himself out of the window, he felt someone tap him on his shoulder, and heard someone whisper something to him. He figured it was the bum, so he turned around, but there was nothing there. He freaked out, cuz it was a split sec that he had heard something and felt the tap. So he started screaming for his friends to come and get him. His friends had to pull his out of the window, cuz he was freaking out the whole time.
Third Story: I was sleeping one time in my bedroom and it was like three o'clock in the morning and i suddenly woke up, because i had the feeling that someone else was in the room with me. (i had my own room at the time) and it was pitch black in my room. But i looked in the corner where my door was and i could just barely make out the outline of a man. He was just standing there watching me. I couldnt breathe or think. I just layed there for about two minutes, trying to figure out what to do. I finally got the balls to reach over and yank on the lamp, when i did, nothing was there.
Fourth Story: Me and my sisters were at my grandma's visiting and recently my uncle had passed away in the house. He had gone missing for about two weeks, my grandma didnt think anything of it, cuz he did that sometimes. She went in his room looking for something and there he was, lying on his bed, half decomposed. She said it took forever to get the smell out. On my grandma's TV was a plastic vase with a fake flower in it. The tv was off and my grandma was at work. So me and my two sisters were sitting around and talking. I believe we were talking about my uncle when all of the sudden the vase went flying off the TV. when i say flew i mean flew. It flew like 5 feet. We all stopped and decided to go to bed.
5th Story: I was spending the night at my best friends house. I was like 15 or something. My godmother had jsut told us to go to bed. We were just getting ready for bed, when i hear my godmother, yelling at me to get my butt in bed. I came out of my best friends room and said we were. She then proceeded to tell me that, she had seen me in the reflection in the window, walk by from the stairs to the kitchen. But the room we were in was right next to where she was. Freaky!
Sixth story: I was babysitting my nephew one night. I was sitting on listening to music and relaxing. When i heard my sister laugh. Thinking that was weird, because i hadnt heard them come home, i got up to check. There was no one there. I know my sisters laugh. About 30 minutes later, i heard my sister cough, again i got up to check. Nothing. I dont know much about this hosue. Ive only been here about 6 months. Its my brother-in-laws house. This house is kinda weird tho. When all sounds have died down, you can hear clicking and sometimes, even what kinda sounds like walking sounds, i sleep with my door open so i would hear if my sister had open her door. but there like soft walking sounds. weird.
Anyway, i have tons more stories. I'm very strong believer in ghosts. So if you want to hear more stories, just email me and let me know. If you do decied to email me. Subject it Ghost, or i will delete it as junk mail.
Both of these acounts took place within the same week of each other,
happening to my brother and I when we were on vacation in London.
The Hyde Park Ghost
I was on vacation with my family in London for Thanksgiving 2001. About ten in the morning on Thanksgiving day, we decided to go for a walk around London, starting with Hyde park, which was about three blocks from out hotel. The park was beautiful against the autumn gray sky, and both my brother and I found it strange how time seemed to skip, as the park lay just kitty-corner from a highly modernized tourist strip. As we waited on the corner for our parents to catch up, I turned to see a great black carriage standing behind us, pulled by a glamorous-looking brown and white clydsedale. I tugged on my older brother's jacket and pointed, and we watched it for a while, thinking it was the coolest thing we'd ever seen. Others in the park didn't take much notice of them at all, walking by in a hurry to get wherever they were going - or that's what we figured. My brother, having his camera with him, took a picture of the carriage and the driver, a slightly portly man with a contented smile and a formal air. He looked at us as my brother snapped t picture, and I felt an unexplainable tingling. Shrugging it off as the autumn weather, I continued to watch the driver.
Our parents called our names, and we turned back to look at them, agreeing we should all go for a ride in the carriage. My mom asked what we were looking at, and I turned back and pointed. What happened next is the strangest thing I've ever experienced. There was no carriage standing on the corner with us. My brother looked just as puzzled and we continued to search about the corner, thinking it must just have driven off after we turned to look at my parents - but the carriage, driver, and horse were nowhere in sight. I found it odd, also, that we had not heard them drive off, as one would think a horse walking on stone could not be terribly quiet.
A week or so later, we got the film developed. My brother and I searched through the pictures at least three times, drying desperately to find the one he had taken of the carriage. But though all the exposures from his camera were present, we could not find the one of the gleaming black carriage, merry driver, and magestic Clydesdale. We did, however, find a startling shot of the corner it had been on, with a little glowing orb just right-center. My brother and I prickled. The real start, however, did not come till about two days after that, when I was reading a book about the ghosts of London I had picked up at the Tower of London for some light reading. I felt the same familiar prickle as I read about a popular ghost in Hyde Park - that of a man driving a gleaming black carriage, pulled by a huge brown and white Clydesdale.
The Shadow in the Chapel
A few days after walking in Hyde Park, my brother and I were wandering quietly through WestMinster Abbey, enjoying the sights. We walked into a chapel that was open and sat for a moment, waiting for our parents to catch up. While we were there, he said he smelled something burning. I sniffed the air, recognizing the strong smell of incence. We looked around, not seeing anyone else in the chapel. My brother poked his head out the door and looked around, informing me that no one was burning anything nearby. Thinking this was strange, but not terribly creepy, we hung around in the chapel a while longer, chatting quietly. Our conversation was broken, however, when we heard someone chanting from the front of the chapel. We jumped, thinking we were alone. I looked up toward the front, certain we had been alone. The chanting continued in a foreign language I didn't understand. My brother, a Latin student, said later the chanting was a prayer or something. We stood there, watching the front of the chapel, looking around for anyone who might be chanting. I nearly fell over when I saw something flicker to my left. A figure, wearing a dark robe and moving slowly walked in front of us at the head of the chapel. I remember taking a sharp step backward and falling into my brother when, after a moments reflection, the being looked up and straight ahead. We couldn't see it's face, as it's profile was toward us, covered by the robe's hood. That didn't matter, however, as in an instant, the being was gone.. There was no more chanting, no smell of incense - nothing but me, being supported by my paled and terrified brother. We didn't know what to think, neither of us ever thinking too much of ghosts before. But neither of us could really explain it - one minute, someone was standing right in front of us, and the next minute, it was gone - completely an utterly gone. Not a trace of it.
One night as I slept, my stepdaughter tapped me on the shoulder and
woke me and her mother up. It was around 2AM. I asked her if everything
was OK. I asked her if she had had a bad dream. She was very
young. She very calmly said, There are four men in my bedroom.
I paused for a second, grabbed a baseball bat, ran to her room and turned
on the lights. There was no one there. I checked all the doors and
windows to make sure everything was locked. I went back to my room
and asked her if she thought she had just had a bad dream. She said
that she was wide awake when she saw them. I asked her to describe
what she saw. She said that she woke up and saw four men, each standing
at the corners of her bed. She described them as very tall, thin,
wearing black cloak-type coats and each wore a black top hat. She
said she couldn t see their faces because they were also completely black.
She said they just stood there looking down at her. I thought she
probably was just having a bad dream. Her mother got her some water and
she crawled into bed to sleep with us.
The next night, around the same time, she again tapped me on the shoulder and very calmly said, Those men are in my room again. I again jumped up grabbed my baseball bat, turned on the lights and found the room empty. My heart was pounding hard and I felt the presence of something that scared me in a way I d never felt before. I again asked her to describe what she saw. She said at first they seemed like shadows, but that as her eyes adjusted, she could easily see that they were men. Again, they were tall, maybe 7 feet tall according to her, dressed in black cloaks, black top hats and with black faces. When she got up to come into our room, they drifted away. I tried to remain calm in her presence. My wife and I told her that maybe what she saw were angels and that they were watching over her. We didn t want to scare her. But my wife and I felt such an uneasiness, knowing that whatever these things were, they were not angels. They were ghosts or spirits or something not normal. This went on for many nights.
I began to go into her room before she went to bed and prayed asking God to protect her from these beings. I didn t know what else to do. I would continue to pray silently until she fell asleep. I also told the beings to leave us alone, that they were not welcome to remain in our home any more. I told them to leave. It must have worked, because she didn t see them any more. But for about a week, she saw them every night. Even typing this now, I keenly remember the feeling of panic and fear and anxiety that we had during those nights.
My stepdaughter is grown now, and I recently asked her if she remembered seeing those four men in her bedroom. She said she vividly remembered them. I told her that I had just read some stories about shadow people , a type of ghost, and how similar her description was to the sightings that other people had had. She told me that she saw them often and knew that they weren t angels, as I had explained. I just smiled and said I was trying to help her to not be afraid. We could laugh about it now, but at the time, we experienced some very tense and scary nights.