Hi! I am a 27 yr old male who lives in Queens, New York. I do have a

ghost experience relating to a deceased pet parakeet named "Prince".

This experience I feel is kind of small compared to many of the stories

that I've read from your website already, But hey...... here it


Around October in 1989, my parakeet Prince developed an illness and was

rapidly growing weak. Although I've tried to treat him and take him to

the vet, his illness would never regress. Then one Thursday, during one

of the usual exercising sessions (where I would allow the birds to fly

freely about my room), Prince grew extremely tired in mid-flight, bumped

into my dresser, dropped and finally landed at the foot of the dresser.

His breathing faded and while in my hands, finally died with an exhale.

Then about two days later around 10 pm, I hear a faint chirping

somewhere in my room. I tried to follow the sound and my ears led me to

the spot where Prince died. For some reason, I wasn't afraid. I then sat

by the spot and silently listened until it untimately faded. The sound

would then emanate at the same spot and at the same time every night for

two weeks. I never experienced any fear for I knew exactly who it was.

But I was facinated more than anything else. The chirping have never

returned to this day.

Grave Yard


I was sent your page by my brother,and like it very much.I paid

attention to the ohio hauntings

and the winchester grave yard site. This is a true story, Ive been there

and saw things,heard things.I heard someone call my friends name and he

thought it was me. I saw a white image first and then a dark one. The

dark one seems to move and chase us out of the cemetary. I was

horrified,it actually followed us to our car,as we turned around it was

half way down the hill, the next time, it was on the bridge.It was a

experience I will never forget.I spoke to my Dad about it (he was a

pastor) and he warned me not to go back.That there was more evil buried

there than good, we could get hurt.My Dad doesnt believe in

ghosts,however he did warn me to never return there. I have never went

back in the night,and only once in the day. Not everyone believed us,

but we know what happened there and it was evil that we felt.It went

from warm to freezing in seconds when the shadow apeared,Im not sure

what it all means, but something happened up there and I will never

forget it.

Passing Spirit ?


This is probably the most boring ghost story your likely to hear, but it is true. It all evolves around three incidents that occurred all in the same house when I was just a boy. Years ago, when we first moved into the house, I often felt that there was a presence in house with me. I guess it could have been all put down to an over active imagination, but then the first, and most boring, incident occurred. I was in the dining room of our house, my brother and father were at the piano on the other side of the room from me, and I was sitting next to a very old white book case that we had bought second hand a long time ago. Well, while I was sitting there I saw an envelope move from one side of the book case to the other, as if it had been pushed. This was at night and all the windows and curtains were closed, there are no vents in the back room and we don't have air conditioning, no one had entered or left the room, in other words there is no explanation why the envelope should have moved. the second incident happened when I was with a friend. We were both in my bedroom leaning out the window calling to someone when a voice that I guessed at the time must have come from about three feet behind us said ' shut up ' quite clearly. There was obviously no-one in the room as it is a small room that no-one could possibly hide in, and everyone else ( there was only my mother was downstairs ). We were both scared and ran downstairs, but didn't tell anyone. The last incident happened in my brother room. I was stroking my cat as he lay on the bed when all of a sudden he looked behind me and hissed as if there was something in the room threatening him, it really scared me as there was no-one there, yet he seemed to stare into a blank part of the room as if there was an intruder. That really scared me, so I ran out the room, but as I left a basket full of stuff fell off a table ( no-where near me or my cat so neither of us touched it ) fell over onto the floor. Besides all that I had a terrible feeling of dread wash over me. Those are the most interesting stories, not much, but there is no explanation for any of them. Sometimes my cat will avoid a particular place as if someone is standing there, he refused to go near the front room door way once, and would move around it like there was someone or something there. I have had no other trouble, and the house feels fine to me, so I don't think it is haunted. My brother suggested spirits that were just passing through caused this, and I am inclined to agree; that is if ghosts were the cause.

A Demon

by unknownsender@unknown.domain

My children and I had a very bad experience with a demon in a house that we lived in. My son become very scared one night as he viewed a ghost of a man with a sword sticking out of it's side. This ghost was standing in the doorway of my son's bedroom very late one night. He said this thing was just giving him the feeling of such terrible hatred and dread. It made my son feel like it was going to kill us. My son started sleeping in my daughter's bedroom and that thing started going from room to room looking for my son and so it started coming into our room and scaring the daylights out of me. I felt the hatred and anger. I know that it would have killed us if we had not gotten our pastor out there to help us. When our pastor pulled into our drive, he said he felt the anger and hatred just emanating from the house to the outside. He knew what we were up against and we immediately started saying prayers to Jesus and his army of saints to fight for us. It worked so that while we were living there we had no more problems. But whenever we drive by, we cannot even look at the house.

Friendly Ghost


We bought this house in 1968, in a small suburb of Chicago, We moved

in, on my sons 3rd birthday that December. That little guy "talked" to

Jonathan, who was evidently, a young man who "got me out of the well

when I was bigger", my son said.

We heard noises from the attic of this house almost from the first

night. Footsteps would fall on the stairs and no one was there. The

rest of the children were afraid, but Frankie wasn't. He said it was

just Joe. I looked into the history of the property, and found out no

other house had been listed here, in fact it was a duckblind for some

neighborhood boys for years until developement after the Korean


One afternoon, while the children were in school, and the little ones

were napping I had a vision I guess. I was in my kitchen and could see

an old fashioned farmhouse kitchen, the woodstove, the table, the

washstand and the back door. Through a window I could see the

outbuildings and a Winter scene even though it was, in reality, early

September. I described the "vision" to my husband later that evening

and Frank overheard it. He said "that was my house when I used to be

bigger, don't you remember?"

Frank doesn't remember any of this anymore, but things continue to

happen here. The TV sets will turn on and off at will, the dog will

stare down the hall and sometimes bark at nothing there.

We still hear footsteps on the stairs, and things will go missing for a

day or two and then turn up right where we left them.

None of us feel threatened but some people refuse to stay all night in

the bedrooms of the converted attic.

A Dream and a Ghost


When I was about eleven years old, my grandfather became sick with lung

cancer, and in six months it quickly spread, and eventually after a lot

of suffering by him and the entire family, he died October 16, 1991.

Since he was a well respected man in the community, it was very

difficult for everyone to handle, especially all of us grandchildren.

Anyways, a week after to the day of the funeral I had a dream. In the

dream my cousin Ashley and I were at the church where the funeral had

taken place, only when we walked in, a play of sorts was going on.

There were three different stages, one with all of us grandchildren and

grandpa opening presents at christmas, one with all of us ice fishing,

and another one with my dad, my uncle and grandpa playing poker ( which

none of them did). When we walked up to the alter/stage, grandpa got up

from all of the scenes and sort of meshed into one figure. He came up

to my cousin and I and hugged us. Ash and I, knowing that he was

supposed to be dead, started to cry, and asked him why he had brought us

to him. Grandpa's face turned dark, and he started to say, "too bad

grandma didn't tell you", and we asked him,"tell us what, grandpa?" and

this continued for a good while, until grandma appeared suddenly out of

the shadows and screamed at us "too bad I didn't tell you" and then

pulled grandpa away from us. I woke up crying and in a cold sweat and

knew as soon as I opened my eyes that I wasn't alone in the room. I

felt like someone was standing right next to my bed. When I felt the

air around the area, it was ice cold. I freaked out immediately, and

threw the covers over my head, hiding from whatever it was- which I

ofcourse know is ridiculous, but I was 11.

The next day I went and visited my cousin Ash, and told her about the

dream. Before I even explained an eighth of it, she turned white as a

sheet, and started to cry. She too, had dreamed the same damn thing.

We never told anyone in our family, but I definitely would hold it to my

grandmother to lie to us about something- her nickname in our family is

"mother matriarch".

The ghost part comes in here. From the time my grandfather died until

midnight of my 12th birthday (in Jan.), he visited us girls while we

were sleeping. In our house the upstairs is two room, with a door

separating my room from my two younger sister's. When we were younger

we kept the door open, and starting the night after my grandfather died,

my dad kept hearing footsteps upstairs. He kept asking me if I was

walking around or if one of my sisters was sleep walking, and none of us

were, so he just let it drop, not wanting to think about what it might

be. Eventually, though, my dad had enough and came upstairs during one

of the walking sessions. No one was walking around, or even awake for

that matter, yet the footsteps continued, from one end of my sister's

room to the other side of mine. We all knew it was grandpa, and we

weren't the only one's he visited. Each one of the families heard

footsteps on and off after his death, but no one ever saw anything.

The footsteps stopped for us on the night of my birthday. After all

our relatives had left, it was about midnight, and I went to bed. I was

just about asleep when I heard the footsteps, and I was wide awake when

they stopped at the foot of the bed. All of the sudden, something sat

on my legs, and I absolutely could not move them. I prayed for "it" to

go away, and no sooner than it sat down, it left, and we never heard the

footsteps again.

The Haunted Mansion


Let me first start by saying that your site rocks!!! Anyway to my story. It's pretty short but it was pretty scary at the time.

Well I work at Disneyland and oddly enough I'm a ride operator at the Haunted Mansion attraction. I had been working there for over a year and hadn't seen anything out of the norm. There were stories though of weird occurences other cast members who worked the attraction have encountered. There's a story of a little boy in a red baseball cap who calls the name of whoever is working in the load position. He also runs around and suddenly dissappears. Well to my own story...I was working the load postion by myself around 8:30 am since it was so early and there were not many guests. Usually there are two people at the load position. One to get people on the ride and one to make sure the lap bar goes down. Well a small group came down and it didn't take long to load them. When down at load i usually sit on the console since no guest can see me. It's pretty creepy in the darkness, the music and the sound effects down at load but I'm used to. Everything seem to be ok. Then it happened. One of the chains in the queue area right next to me started to shake. I was used to the chains swaying because sometimes the air conditioning was on very high and caused them to sway. The chain wasn't just swaying this time. It was shaking and rattling like mad. I was soooo scared I ran up the ramp into the camera room and told the person there what had happened. Marcus came down with me and I showed him what happened. All he told me was, "Remember, Nothing can't hurt you." He assured me something weird happens to everyone. Another weird thing is the elevator we call "ER 1" has a gargoyle in it that hisses at you if you talk to it. It's really weird, The only explanaton we have to the weird happenings is that awhile ago someone by the name of "Grandma Joyce" had one of her friends spread her ashes throughout the attractions. Man after writing this I don't think I want to go to work tomorrow. Again let me tell you what a great site ya have.

Man in the Road


I don't normally tell these stories to anyone because they sound outlandish, but I am a professional who has an MBA in English and I have had some of the strangest things happen to me. The most memorable one was in the fall of 1990. I was a senior in high school, and my boyfriend and I were out with our best friend. Being a stupid teenager, I was riding on my boyfriend's lap in the front seat because we were just going to the park which was only about three miles from where we were, and we lived in the middle of no man's land. There was a forest of trees in the middle of the fork. We were talking and carrying on, and my friend, Mike, took the left fork instead of the right fork. I looked up, fussing at him for taking the wrong road when we saw this guy in a gray sweatshirt and blue sweatpants walk out of the trees right in front of the car. Of course, I thought we were going to wreck, so I braced my arm on the dashboard and ducked my head preparing to be thrown through the windshield. I was screaming. But I felt no impact. When I looked up, we were on the right road going towards the park, and there was no one in front of the car. Of course, we stopped the car and mulled around for a few minutes trying to see if maybe someone had wrecked in the trees, but there was no sign of anything. I do know that about four years before that my brother had a good friend who died at that intersection while running from the cops after a domestic dispute. He never made the turn, and went straight into the trees. He left behind two small children. Maybe it was him trying to go home.

My next experience happened with a Ouija board and I can promise I'll never touch another one. We were trying to contact a friend who had passed away about a year earlier. I asked him to prove he was who he said, and he gave us some details that each of us in the room would know about him individually, but not collectively. I asked him to prove he was there. I heard something happening in the laundry room and I threw the board into the hallway and went to look. All the cabinets above the washer and dryer were open and all the stored sheets were laying all over the floor. My cat's food and water had been pushed to the opposite side of the room. It was too scary for all of us. We camped out together in sleeping bags on the floor as close to one another as we could!

And this is my final story, because this one is happening presently. I had a daughter two years ago. I decided to pass on my middle name which has been a family tradition for girls in our family for years - Grace. The wild thing is, my daughter was due on June 21st, which I thought was cool because it was my brother's birthday, but she was born on May 27, 1996, exactly one year to the date of the death of my Aunt Grace, whom I had adored during life. She was my godmother, and she never had any kids, and I felt it was a meaningful tribute to her. Anyways, getting to my point, my daughter was born very sick, but became healthy very quickly. She has grown into a radiant little girl. We have moved five times since she was born (My job had me travelling and we finally decided to settle near one set of grandparents so she could have the loving support I never had, so we moved to Atlanta.) The strange thing is I have noticed that she always has the coldest room in the house. My husband makes a joke out of it since he is always hot that he doesn't know how we always do that. I believe it is my Aunt Grace watching over her, her guardian angel. I have been in her room, putting her to bed, reading her a story and felt someone sit on the bed with us with a great thud. My aunt was no little woman but always a beautiful one. The strangest thing that has happened recently is that an old makeup case with a cameo on it (with the powder still in it) has appeared in my home. I know I did not get this from my mom because we do not speak. It sits on my bookcase. When my husband and I married, I decided to use her wedding band, but it causes blisters on my fingers, and always appears in the jewelry box that I keep in my daughter's room. So now I know, that my Aunt Grace wants my daughter to have it instead of me!

4 Harrison Court


I've always wondered what was going on in the house I grew up in. It was

only 20 years old when we bought it. We knew the builders, and it had

had only one owner since then, an old woman who kept cats.

My mother bought the house when I was 4, and from day one, I was

terrified in there. It just felt wrong. It was a small house, only 2

bedrooms, all on one level, with the exception of an attic and a

basement. There were definitely sections of the house that felt "safe"

and sections that did not. The back bedroom, the back bedroom closet,

the bathroom, and the short steps and hallway leading to the back door

and basement, were not. The front bedroom, living room, and ironically

enough, the kitchen ( so long as you kept your eye on that back hall)

were safe.

The things that occurred in the house were experienced by the entire

family, though my mother and older sister always had a "reasonable

explanation" for them. Heavy breathing could often be heard (moms

explanation...the swingset up the road creaking). Footsteps across the

ceiling.(m.ex...the neighbors. now our house sat alone and shared no

walls so how would we hear the neighbors going up their stairs, inside

their house??? ) Items that were set down would suddenly vanish, only to

reappear after much frantic hunting. But worse than that was the "feel".

People were loath to do anything that would make a loud noise.Vacumning,

showering, flushing the toilet, frying food, anything that made a

coverup noise. It always made you want to spin around and run, when you

couldn't hear past the noise you were making. As if it were allowing

something to sneak up on you. When anyone went down to the basement,

which housed the washer and dryer, they ineveitabley RAN down the

stairs. Those just didn't want to be caught on them. My

mom was a compulsive decorater, and the only spot in the house that did

not boast ornamentation was the hall leading to the basement stairs.

Even SHE couldn't bear to be in there long enough to hang a picture.

Once in the basement, the person felt compelled to keep a running,

shouted conversation whith whomever was upstairs. You did NOT want to be

cut off, down there. Sleeping in this house was a nightmare, the

overwhelming fear of shutting off the light, and daring to sleep.

Myself, and my neice both experienced this. In the back bedroom, too,

there was a closet. The closet door had a tendency to suddenly slam

open. My moms explanation? It was hung crooked. When I was 14, tired of

it, I put a latch on it. Some years later, the door flung itself open

hard enough to send the latch flying through the opposite window. Hung

crooked indeed.

The most terrifying event in the house was experienced by myself, my

neice and my dog. We were sleeping, both in my room, my sister was

asleep on the sofa, and my mom in her room. Jennifer and I were awakened

by a voice, from the area of the basement, calling my name. I thought it

was my sister and asked her what she wanted. I woke her up. It had not

been her. I woke my mom up. It had not been her. While I was talking to

my mother, the voice came again, telling me to come to it. My neice

asked my mom if she had heard it, and my mother replied that she had

heard nothing, and that we were dreaming. Both of us, dreaming the same

dream. Ooookay :) It went on all night, and my dog, gaurdian of my

wellbeing, hid under the bed and whimpered.

We lived in that house for 17 years. During that time we had bedding

switched from one bed to another, tapes and records moved under

furniture, and perhaps the most puzzling, we came home daily for a week,

to find bowls of hot food, and cups of steaming tea, set out as though

someone had just been there, yet the house was locked. We had a neighbor

watch the house, to make sure neighborhood kids weren't coming in, but

nobody was seen to enter.

To this day, whenever my neice, or myself, have a nightmare, it is set

in that house. No dreams that take place in that house turn out to be

good ones. I have actually had dreams that were going along fine, until

I realized where I was..... I also remember having a dream that I was

married, and my husband had purchased a house. He took me to see our new

home, and you guessed was 4 Harrison court. In the dream, the

most amazing wave of terror swept over me, at the thought of stepping

into that house again.

We have no idea what was wrong with it, we know the woman who bought it

from us, and she still lives in it. We have no idea if she's had any

problems. It is and will remain, a mystery.

The Talent


As several women have noted in stories on this page, what I usually call the

Talent seems to run through the female line in my family. I don't know

whether my mother ever had many experiences, but from the stories that her

mother told me (my grandmother lived with us all the time I was growing up,

until I was almost nineteen) she, herself, was very used to "occurences",

as were her mother, her aunts, etc. One of my great aunts was known for

infallibility at picking Kentucky Derby winner; the ony time she missed,

was the one time she attempted to bet on the race...dead wrong! She never

bet, or missed, again!

This story, though, concerns the day my mother died. Depression, as well

as Talent, runs in the female line, and I wnder, sometimes, if the two are

somehow twisted together....? Anyway, the October after I turned eighteen,

I came downstairs in the morning, to find my mother sitting at the kitchen,

at the end of what looked to have been a long and terrible crying spree.

She had recently started a new job, working at a place that taught the use

of microcomputers and wordprocessors, and she had gotten me into one of the

first classes there, so we would ride in together.

I asked her what was wrong, and she said that she and my father had finally

had it out the night before, and that they were going to get divorced. I

was stunned. I knew they had problems, but never realized how bad things

were between them. Dad had agreeed to pack his stuff and leave, and Mom

would get everything else. We were living on a fifty-acre farm with a two

hundred+ year old house, with barns, outbuildings, etc.

I wasn't exactly a calm person myself by this mother and I had

only recently started talking to each other as adults, and maybe friends,

moving the parent-child relationship into its next step.I tried to comfort

her, and figure out what I could do to help, and assure her that everything

was going to turn out for the best...while at the same time, the small

child inside was howling her anguish, trying to figure how her world had

come crashing down overnight.

I was fairly protected, growing up..I new the horrible things that happened

in the real world, but they didn't touch me, really, out there on the

farm...both parents had been married, and divorced, before they met each

other, and both had children from previous marraiges...I grew up with my

older sister, my mothers first daughter, and I loved her dearly; I couldn't

even think how this would affect her. She had already left for the day. I

never thought they would split, my parents, I thought they could heal their


After we had sat for a while, and cried, and had our tea, it was getting

towards the latest we could leave, and make it to where we were going, and

be on time. My mother was still shaken, and told me to take my car in,

she'd join me later. I asked if she was sure, and she said, yes, she had

to compose herself, and get herself straightened out for work; she'd be in

later, and to tell the woman she worked with what was happening, so she'd

know why mom was late. I took my leave, hugged and kissed her, and left,

telling her I'd see her there.

Its was a 30 minute drive in, and I don't know how I made,

perhaps. When I got in, I told moms boss what had happened, and that Mom

would been in when she felt ready, perhaps in half an hour. I had offered

to drive us both, but Mom said no, she wanted to take care of a few things,

and perhaps talk to dad one more time before he left, he was going to start

packing that morning....

Well, it got to be half an hour later, and I was having the worst time of

my life, trying to concentrate on my work. Suddenly, I realized that a

truly odd sensation was coming over me: I was sleepy, and just didn't care,

and things were coming in and out of focus around me. Moms boss (my

teacher) had been checking on me every once in a while, and she pulled me

out of the room. "you look horrible...and your mom isn't in yet. Are you

okay?" I told her I *had* to use the phone, NOW! Something was insisting

to me that I call home.

I phoned, and woke up my father. I told him that I knew what was going

on, and was mom still there? He said no, she left for work hours ago, and

i replied that no, she was still there when I left, she had sent me ahead.

Then I insisted he go look for her, she WAS still there, GO FIND HER NOW!

Somehting in my voice must have gotten to him, because he said he would,

and would call as soon as he found out. I asked, should I come home, and

he said no, wait for my call.

Twenty minutes later, my sister showed up, and said "get in the car, we're

going home" and wouldn't say much else on the ride back. She listen while

I told her what Mom had said that morning, and started cursing my father,

and I don't blame her, really. And On the ride home, the blackest cloud of

despair came over me suddenly. I ha wanted to drive my own car home, and

now was glad I didn't.....I was so upset, I couldn't breathe, could hardly

see, and didn't say what I felt to my sister. I knew, then, Mom was dead,

or close to it.

When we arrived home, there were was a police car, and officer in the yard,

talking to my father, who looked like he'd been hit with a frieght

train...stunned white, calm, but in shock. Thats when they gave me the had killed herself. She'd driven down in the back field, run

some vacuum hosing into her back window, and asphyxiated herself with the

exhaust fumes. My father found her, did mouth-to- mouth, and scrambled

back up to thehouse to call an ambulance, and grab an oxygen we had kept on

hand, in case on of my grandmothers should happen to have breathing

problems. They lost her enroute to the hospital, which was a mercy, since

she had inhaled so much of the fumes that her color had changed, and if she

had lived, she would have been a vegetable.

I had to give my statement to the police, and then they left us to our

grief. But I know, as deeply as anything I've ever felt, that I felt my

mothers dying moment, on the way home that day. I felt it when she was

leaving, and dad brought her back, and I felt her final moments.

Days, or weeks, that time is confused and mostly lost to me, I talked to my

grandmother about it. Allt he time mom was growing up, if something

happened, or was going to happen to her, her mother recieved warning of one

sort or another....once, it was a knocking that followed her throughout the

house; this time, she said, about two or three days before it happened, my

grandmother spent a good fifteen minutes talking with HER mother.....before

she realized that her mother had been dead for forty years, and the

apparition she was talking to was only her mothers she put it

out of her mind, until the moment we talked.

Several times since that awful year, I've seen or felt my mother

nearby...usually trying tosave me from some folly of my own, once at least

saving my life. I fell asleep driving home late one night, and woke up

abruptly, hearing her voice saying my name, telling me to wake up NOW! I

was in the high speed lane of the OTHER side of the road, with a car coming

at me! I had just enough time to correct, and settle back to my side of

the road....and believe me, I was wide awake the rest of the ride home.

I've had other warnings, and seen other things, but as so many others have

said here...that is a tale for another day......

The Top of the Stairs


I came across your web page and was facinated..I am 43 years old but

have had many experiences with ghosts since childhood that I feel are

related to 2 near death experiences I had at age 5 and at age 8..After

these I was able to both see and hear ghosts, or sense them and have

been involved off and on with people who have had terrifying encounters

in homes and businesses and are seeking help to rid themselves of these

enities..I seem to have a talent, brought back with me from 'the other

side' in childhood for turning souls to the light..The NDEs are another

story however...

My first personal experience with a ghost was when I was about 6 years

old. I grew up in a small town in Southern Kansas that had a large

number of victorian houses, some quite elaborate and well maintained.

Most were nice, old family homes, most built in the 1870s and quite safe

but as with all small towns a few had a rather sinister reputation...

One afternoon my grandmother and I were invited to tea by one of her

frinends. The woman had just bought an old victorian house on 10th

street and was looking forward to restoring the place when she and her

husband both retired the next year.

When we pulled up in front I began to feel uneasy..the house looked

predatory, what in my 6 yr old mind I thought of as 'hungary'..With

great foreboding I followed my grandmother in and sat down in the front

parlor where they began a long and now forgotten gossip session with

each other. I rember sitting there feeling completly frozen, and

wondering why my grandmother and her friend could not feel the cold in

the air and the faint buzzing sound I seemed to keep hearing...

My undoing came when finanlly having only a 6 year olds bladder, I need

to find the bathroom. The lady said to use the one upstairs since the

one off the kitchen was still being renovated. My feet dragging I walked

out the pocket doors of the parlor and into the entrance hall to begin a

very long climb up the stairs to the bathroom at the top.

Like many houses of this period the stairs had a landing and then

turned to create a flight up to the second floor..I had just started to

climb the steps toward the landing when I looked up and standing there

was a very pretty young woman in a white silk nighthown that looked like

something a movie star of the 1920s or 30s would wear..She was stading

on the landing with one hand sort of hidden in the folds of her gown and

beconing to me with the other hand..The thing I rember was her hair was

short and wavy in what I later found was called a marcel wave popular in

the 20s and how the llight from a window beside her shimmered over her

light brown hair..I took in all these details quickly because next I

gazed up, still climbing the stairs as if my feet were not my own,

heading toward that long white hand that was motioning me to come

closer. Then I looked at her face and all hell broke loose!!

I must have fainted and tumbled back down the steps. The next thing I

rember was my grandmother and her friend slapping my cheeks and yelling

my name. I imediatly began screaming and crying, "Blood..she is covered

in blood!!" and pointing at the landing..This of course broke up the tea

party and I was taken home in disgrace since I apparently wet my pants

when I passed out but even that humiliation was nothing compared to the

relief I felt at getting away from that house...

For what I saw in that womans face is still with me in my worst

nightmares. She was smiling but it was the most hateful, wicked and evil

grin I have ever seen!! Her eyes were just blank eyeballs..and

her face was covered in blood!! Somehow I knew she had a butcher knife

in her other hand and was preparing to use it on me!!

Years later, when I was in high school, I finally found out the story

of the house on 10th street. This was long after my grandmothers death

and her friends. One day on my way home from school I decided to take a

diffrent route, I realize now that I had avoided even passing in front

of the house for years on foot as if it would reach out and grab me. I

noticed the house was being torn down and stopped to look. A young woman

drove up and stopped at the curb, getting out to join me on the sidewalk

in front. She proved to be one of grandmothers old friends daughters and

seemed quite cheerful about the destruction of the place. We began

talikig and she described how her parents were both sticken with fatal

illnessess within a year of moving in and how after their deaths the

family had been unable to sell or even rent the house..

"Don't you know what happened there?" she asked. She then told me that

in the 1920s a young couple lived in the house, she apparently came from

a fairly wealthy and prominent family in the area. The rumor reached her

that her husband was having a number of affairs with women all over town

and had a number of illigetimate childeren scatered around the county.

Being spoiled, over indulged and addicted to drugs and bootleg booze did

not help her mood and she began to brood. One day she called her husband

at his law office and suggensted he come home for lunch and no dbout an

amorous encounter offered to make sure he showed up.

Apparently she was waiting for him on the landing of the stairs in a

fancy nightie and holding a butcher knife. They later said she must of

stabbed him over 70 or 80 times and muliated the body, leaving it at the

base of the stairs. She was found in an upstairs bedroom dead of an

overdose of narcotics that were legal to buy in any drug store at that


You can imagine my reaction to the womans story...and her reaction to

mine! I later went back into the local newspaper files and found the

story as she related it to me, having happened in 1922 and was quite the

scandal of the time.

The lady herself had never lived in the house after her parents bought

it since she was married with a home of her own but she described the

place as, 'unwholesome' and 'evil' and refused to set foot in the place

after her parents death..

The reason I do not give the town name or family names is because many

of these peoples decendants still live in the area..the last time I

drove past where the house use to be I noticed it had become a small

neighborhood playground! Despite being a nice summer day with many

children playing in yards and porches on either side of the lot, no kids

would get close to the tempting swings and jungle gyms set up there....I

did not need to stop and ask any of these children why. It is still a

dark spot even on a sunny day.

The Writing on My Hand


It was only two days before i was going to leave my house in the middle

east to come to the U.S. to live there. Evereyone was excited, because

we didn't like it that much there anyway. But i liked it there, though i

had no problem living in the U.S. because i had been there many times


We only had three paranormal experiences in our former house.

One night i accidently fell asleep on the den couch, i woke up

frantically wondering how i fell asleep in the den, but i soon realized

that i accindently fell asleep there.

I sat up, and heard some footsteps in the room, it was a marble floor, i

called out "mom" but no answer, it was really dark, and then i saw a

shadow, it didn't look like the shadow of a human, but more like a big

irregular shaped figure, and it just walked by slowly as if it didn't

notice me. And then it disapeared.

My second experience was when my cat, saw something that i didn't see,

the cat arched it's back, it's hair standing on end, and hissing

furiously. I jumped in front of the cat but still it kept hissing

furiously. It was only until i put my hand over the cats eyes that it


My third experience was two days before i left to move to the U.S. I

woke up on a Friday morning to find writing on my hand, it was done with

a red pen, if you were wondering what it said, i'm sorry but I couldn't

read a word it said, it was more like cursive but unreadable, i should

it to my mom and dad, with my hand shaking but they couldn't read it

either. I washed it off, but still it wouldn't disapear completely, it

took three days of scrubing and bathing to get it off. I still go back

to our old house every summer because my father still lives there, and

he told me that nothing happend while i was gone. And he was still in

disbelief that there was any paranormal activity in the house. But my

mom new that there was something going on in that house, but not a ghost

or spirit.

I only have one explanation for this activity, I think that the ghost

didn't want me to go, afterall these activities only happend in my

existance, it didn't happen to anyone else in my family.

If there is anyone else who could know another explanation please email


The Suicide Haunting


When I was about 13 years old, I used to babysit quite a lot in my

neighborhood. Back then, I didn't believe in ghosts or the paranormal.

I lived in upstate New Jersey at the time My foster family had

recently moved into a new housing development in a small suburban town

near the New York State border. The house next door to us was an old

farmhouse (the housing development had been built on what had once been

the farm). The farmhouse had supposedly been built during the mid to

late 1700's.

When I came home from a babysitting job late one night, I looked out the

window for several minutes at the stars, trying to find the different

constellations, as was my habit just about every night. Then I saw a

"ball of mist" which appeared to be "walking" down the middle of the

road. I thought that it must be some kind of gas or water vapor,

although I'd never seen anything like it in my life. It seemed so

"deliberate". It never veered from the road. I watched it go to the

end of the block and make a right into the woods that lead to New York

State. It was weird but I figured that there must be some rational

explanation for it.

The couple who had just moved into the old farmhouse, needed a

babysitter for a Saturday night for their 4 year old daughter. I agreed

to babysit.

I arrived at the couple's house about 7PM on a hot summer night. As

soon as I entered the house, their Doberman Pincher ran up to me and

started barking at me and howling. He wouldn't stop regardless of what

the couple tried to do. His howls became shrill and he began to growl

at me. I'd never been afraid of animals, as I'd grown up around dogs

and I like animals very much. This dog really scared me just the same.

The husband put the dog down in the garage where it finally stopped


I met the little girl and then the mother put her to bed in her upstairs


When the couple left, I turned on the T.V.. Despite the hot night, there

was not even as much as a fan in the house, yet the house was

comfortablly cool.

At about 10 or 11 PM that night, the T.V. began to have "interferance"

and the lights dimmed noticeably. The television began to get so much

interferance that it became impossible to watch. The lights dimmed even

more. I thought that there must be something wrong with the electrical

wiring in the old house. I sat by the light and began to read. The

house was becoming cooler. Despite the hot night outside, this house

was becoming cold. There was an afgan on the back of the couch, which I

wrapped around me. I went to the window, wondering why it was suddenly

becoming cold. The window pane was warm! It was certainly warmer than

that house was at that moment. I tried to open the window to "let the

warm air in" but I could not budge any of the windows. The outside

world looked so strange from instide that house, as though you were

looking at something far away or were looking at a picture of something

rather than reality.

Then I began to hear what sounded like a light footfall at the top of

the stairs. I could only hear them coming down but not up, on about the

top 1/3 of the stairway. I looked to see if the little girl had gotten

up but she was sound asleep with her sheet tucked in around her.

As I sat reading, the footfall became closer and got louder. I stood by

the stairway and watched. I saw nothing but could still hear the

footfall. I thought that this old house must still be "settling" to be

making all this noise. Then the footfalls became a pounding and seemed

to reach the end of the stairwell. They were closer together, loud and

insistant But always, always, only descending the staircase, never

ascending it.. Than I heard a loud "bang" from the room directly in

line with the stairway at the top. I raced to the room thinking that I

might find the little girl there or a small animal which might have

gotten into the house and knocked something over. I turned on the light

to the room,; the room was VERY cold and the light very dim. The child

was not there and nothing was out of place. I recoiled promptly from

the small, frigid room. The hairs at the back of my nect were standing

up and I felt a strange sensation, as though a current of electricity

was coursing though my spine to the base of my skull. I checked on the

little girl, who was sound asleep despite the racket and still tucked

snugly into her bed.

At this point, I was getting scared but figured that there still must be

some rational explanation for what was happening. The footsteps

continued their pounding but now they descended all the way to the

foyer. There was a deep, shag carpet runner along the foyer. I could

hear creaking floorboards beneath it and indentations in the carpet as

though someone were pacing on it. I thought that there must be some

"really small animal" on the carpet and decided to try to "catch it". I

planted myself in the middle of the carpet when something came over me;

everything went dark for a second. I felt as though someone had thrown

something over my head and for a few seconds, I couldn't breathe.

This was no "small animal". I was petrified. I ran up the stairs to

check the child and she was still fast asleep.

After the incident on the carpet, the footfalls started to make their

way up the staircase. It was like a playback of what had been going on

most of the night, only in reverse. By the time the footfalls reached

the top third of the stairwell, they had stopped the insistant pounding

and were only lightly "stepping", yet still only descending the

stairway. Finally, they disappeared entirely. The lights resumed their

brightness and the television was no longer bothered by "interference".

By this time it was about 2 AM and this "stair-walking" had gone on for

several hours. All through this, there had not been one peep from the

dog in the garage.

The couple returned home about 4 AM. They asked me, "if everything had

been alright". I had felt as though I must be losing my mind. I just

told them that everything had "been OK".

The next day, my foster sister made a point of asking me, "how did the

babysitting go?" I told her, "that house is really WEIRD!" Then she

told me, "I didn't want to tell you before you went babysitting because

I didn't want to scare you". She proceeded to tell me that the former

owners had told her that the house was haunted. They told her that all

the members of the family had seen the ghost many times. They explained

that one of the original owners of the house, a Mr. H., had committed

sucide my hanging himself from the attic door which was diredtly above

the top landing of the stairwell. They had taken my sister for a tour

of the house. When they had been renovating the house, they had

discovered that the house beams and studs had been joined together by

wooden pegs and not nails. This was a very old construction technique,

that was used because making wooden pegs was easier than having to make

nails. They took my foster sister for a tour of the cellar, which

consisted of a maze-like collection of windowless cubicles. In each of

the cubicles were manacles for hands and feet. Had Mr. H.bought slaves

to use as farm workers? In that area, the growing season is short and

the winters long and cold. Buying slaves would hardly have been "cost

effective" for such a short period of time. Long ago, the land there

had belonged to the Ramapo Indians. Had Mr. H. taken these people as

seasonal slaves and "dispensed with" them after harvest time?

My friends went down to the town's city hall to check the records of the

house. The records showed that the house was considerably newer than

had been thought (about mid-nineteenth century). This was after slavery

had been discontinued in the northeast. The former owners of the house,

who were also builders and renovators of old houses, said that the mode

of construction that was used in the house, would date the house as

being much older.

I guess we will never know who was kept manacled in those airless little

rooms in the cellar. We will never know why Mr. H. was driven to

suicide or if his death was indeed a suicide. Was the ghost that of Mr.

H. or of someone else? Perhaps there is more than one tormented spirit

in that "troubled" household.

Haunted India


Dear Sir: Nice to visit your site. The place I live is full of paranormal

activities. This was a very old cremation ground for Hindus on the

embankment of rivewr Gomti. Earlier due to flooding with watewr of rainy

season and of the river people used to cremate in the greater area. Now

this cremation is restricted to a quarter square kilometer. People who live

here experience too much miseries, un-natural deaths, unrestricted

sufferings and blokade in their work and work/business; althjough some are

affluent and resourseful. In my house alone,which is about 70-100 years

old, we experience different encounters with unexplained phenomenon which

we try first to analyse logically and with resoning but fail to get a

satisfactory answer. These are visualising images, sightings, gush aroma

stepping sounds etc.As I practice Yoga and Alternative Medicine therapies

so I have an idea of the occurance and autheniticity of these phenonmenon.

We just observe and analyse and never accept the experiences on

superstitious or any illusive background. More details could be made

available to interested persons or researchers o0f this field.

Thanks and regards.

At the Store


Ok here in town there have been some major things going on. For some

reason kids were trying to kill themselves. no one knew why. there were

5 who killed themselves in 2 months. the town was shocked. it was not

ending at all. i knew some of them. A month after the last one (who was

a friend) it stoped. My mom forgot something at the store, so i went to

get it for her. As i walked to the door i noticed two boys standing by

the little wall. They had a little dog between them. THey wre facing

each other talking. as i got closer... i noticed that one of the boys

was one that killed himself. i was freaked. I did not say anything. i

turned around, and went into the store. when i came out, they were gone.

i talked to a friend of mine about it. she asked me about the other guy.

I told her about the guy i did not know. i told her what he looked like,

and thats when she told me who he was. i told her about the dog i saw.

That dog died 2 weeks before the guy did.

D.C. Barracks

by (let me know if you want your email lsited here)

im a marine stationed in washington d.c.. In march of 96 we had an incident

at marine barracks washington d.c., me and several other marines were

standing guard duty. We recieved a call from one of the posts saying they

had heard people moving around inside the old band hall, we went to

investigate and found no one we did hear voices but could not find a

source. we then proceeded out side with no results. and heaed back to the

guard house

On the way there the sergent noticed that there was a woman across the

parade deck near the commadants house wearing white. we stood and watched

her for a while and then went to approach her. when we got about ten feet

from her she walked to the center gate of the house and vanished, we

searched the whole area and found no one we then went back to the guard

house and logged it in. since then everybody that was there has been

relieved of duty and has moved on to other duty stations

My Haunted House


This story goes way back to a when i was a child. I remember my mom talking about her religious figures moving in the middle of the night.But to her surprise that morning nothin was out of place. She even had someone come in to see if a squirrel got into the house, it didnt. My sister remembers hearing footsteps and the furniture in the basement moving, it sound like there was a party going on down there. This only happened in the winter months. I dont remember hearing any of that. Except footsteps in the hallway to our bedrooms , my mother always told us it was our grandma, and of course she wasnt there to scare us just look over us . We were never afraid of it. My recollection of strange happenings started on the eve of December 26 1979. That was the day my father passed away in that house. Of course i was the only one home that morning. I was the one to find him.My mom had passed on earlier that same year, may 20 1979.I never felt such fear . I as a child was always afraid of this sort of thing happening to me ,and it did , I was 20 yrs old. I remember walking into his room and totally freaking out .That evening after the whole family left myself and sister were to afraid to go back to our room, it was right next to dads room. So we decided to sleep in the living room. My sisters boyfriend at the time decided to stay with us. It was around 12:30 am I was saying my prayers and also trying to figure out what time he could have passed . In those days i slept in very late so he wasnt found till one in the afternoon, when i awoke. He had been dead for hours they said. All of a sudden i heard a clanging loud sound , at the same time my sister and her boyfriend awoke by the same sound. I think he was letting me know the time of his passing , it clanged 5 times...5 a.m. That was just the beginning of things to follow. None of our family came that often we often wondered why. We did find out years later ,that after numerous time of telling our aunts and uncles, that we felt something in the house ,The day the house sold they told us that they knew we were telling the truth, but how could they admitt it to us, we had to live there. Wonderful huh. We thought we were losing our minds. One of my aunts had a priest come in to bless the house. It helped for a while. Then the banging, the smell of flowers just the errie feeling in that house returned. I remember one day about 3 in the afternoon there was a terrible storm, the lights went out in the house ,at the time my son was 1 yr old . My sister took off work for 6 weeks to stay with me , cause i wouldnt stay home alone. She finnally had to go to work. She was expected home at 5, that day . After the lights went out and the phone rang i heard from dads closet a knocking sound , i mean loud knocking . I picked up my son and headed for a neigbors house. I remained there till my sis came home. To say the least we sold the house three yrs later. To this day I really dont Know what it was in that house. I always thought it was my dad , but 20 yrs later I now do not think it was him. I think it was pure evil there.I have married and moved to Florida I wonder if the new occupents have any trouble in that house. When i go back to visit the family and i get up the nerve, i might just drop in on them to ask.



My wife (Karen) and I decided to go on a camping trip with our three children. We went to a campground we had visited several times before.On the last day of our trip we the kids' bedding out on the line,because it had a bad case of the smellys.We had a great day doing activities around the campground,so we headed back to the camper for dinner. Karen decided to make chicken for us, we cooked dinner and sat down to eat. I don't eat chicken, so I ate the other things. After dinner, we all went for a walk to see the sights, half-way around Karen said she wasn't feeling well so back to the camper we went/. I had promised our boys I would toast marshmallows with them. By this time, it was getting late (9:30 PM) for the boys, Karen said she would put the baby to bed and lay down herself. The boys and I toasted marshmallows for about an hour, they fell asleep in the chairs. Knowing I had to make their bed, I sat there awhile longer, and there he was- an old Indian (Native American) he had long white hair a funny lookinghat ( like Peter Pan's) with one feather on the left side of it. He seemed to be 5 feet 9 inched tall and thin.. Around his neck were some sort of charms, a bag hung down to his waist, and he had a pipe. He was dressed in buckskin pants, and a shirt (no, he wasn't wearing war-paint). He was warming his hands on the west side of the fire(water-spiritual side to native belief). As I was studying him, he turned, looked at me, smiled, and disappeared. I sat there for awhile, thinking I must be going crazy. The two boys were still asleep on their chairs, so I got up to make their beds, but the sheets, blankets and pillows were gone. I looked in the camper and their bed was made perfectly. The next morning, I thanked Karen for making their bed for me. She told me, "I didn't make it." I then told her my story and we agreed that was really weird. This happened over one year ago, and since then each time trouble comes my way, I hear Indian drums. How bad the trouble is, depends on how long I hear the drums. The experience is one that sits well in my memory, the Indian made an impression that will last through my lifetime.

Dark Figures


I am 23,and live with my folks

in an apartment(don't laugh),and every once in a while my

mother and I see dark shapes from the corners of our

eyes.This happens once in a while,and sometimes we can

perceive a spectral cat through the sounds it makes.We think

it is one of our former cats(We have had many through the

years).Recently I purchased a human skull through a

mailorder company in Berkely.It is a chinese skull,with no

teeth,and slight damage.I usually keep the skull on my desk

next to my PC,but I kept it next to the head of my bed for a

while.Recently,something curious happened.I was sleeping,and

awoke to a dark figure standing over me next to the bed(My

bed is a boxspring,and mattress on the floor).I couldn't

tell if the figure was angry,or what,but I felt very spooked

at this.I am not sure if I should chalk this up to

grogginess,or perhaps the human remnant attracted this

entity.I could not see the face,but it was definately

looking at me.I have not seen it since.I am uncertain as to

whether it was apparition of the skull in life,or if it is

the shadow we sometimes spot from the corner of our

eyes.Geez,I'm getting chills just typing this up...

New Hope

by name withheld by request

I grew up in a house that my parent's built in New Hope, PA. New Hope is

an old town located on the Delaware River (not too far from Washington's

Crossing) - it's an old mill town that dates back to the 1700's at least (I

haven't yet researched the founding - but have been toying with the idea to

write a book about it's history and might even explore writing about

paranormal activities in New Hope if I find enough information - this will

have to be in the future since I'm currently in college and raising two

children) - it originally had a different name, but when the town burnt

down, the residents rebuilt giving it the name of New Hope. New Hope is

now more of a tourist town and is quite a famous place for tourists to

visit (it contains alot of quaint shops) in Pennsylvania. In the more

recent past, New Hope was where the reporter Jessica Savitch, her boyfriend

and dog died when their car careened into the canal that runs through the

town. My parents home was located not far from this site, up a hill called

Windy Bush Road (unfortunately they sold their house last year, but the

events that happened to me there are intriguing and I think that when I do

research the area, I might pop in on the new owners to see if they've had

any out of the ordinary experiences). My parents home sat on 11 acres up

on a hill just outside of New Hope and was rumored to be part of a parcel

of land that William Penn (the founder of Pennsylvania) was interested in

purchasing. Located next to the land that my parent's built this house on

is a large and very old farmhouse and my parent's land was supposed to have

been the farmhouses' field and pastures. My parents bought the land in the

early 1970's and during the construction animal skulls were found - such as

cow skulls and smaller mammals like raccoons, foxes, mice, etc. An

intriguing area on this property was what I refer to as the grave - back

behind the barn that was built (we used to ride & show horses) was a deep

stretch of woods that my parent's shared with the furniture artist George

Nakashima. It was a large mound that was redish in color (I suppose from

the clay soil). My childhood friend and I used to trail ride our ponies

back deeply into these woods and also found a site that we referred to as

elephant mountain - located at the edge of the hill - if you would look

down you could you would see the town of New Hope and the Delaware River

right below - was a large mound of rocks layed out into a huge pile with a

pit recessed into one side. Some inquiry to people familiar with the

revolutionary war (remember I mentioned the town is only a little way from

where George Washington and his men crossed the Delaware river into New

Jersey to attack the English at Trenton) have said that often revoltionary

soldiers would build a mound similar to the one that I mentioned in order

to slow down an advancing army - they would use the rock mound as a wall

and they would sit behind it or in the recessed pit and shoot down at the

enemy as they would try to climb up it. Also, back in this wooded area is

many rock fences that farmers used to use back in prerevolutionary times.

Sorry to make this so long, but I'm trying to give you a sense of the age &

history of this town and the property that I grew up on in particular.

Anyway - about a mile down the road from my parent's house is a cemetary

that's all but forgotten and some of the graves date back to the early


Now onto my experiences... The earliest experience that I can remember

happened when I was quite young (perhaps 11 or 12) - I was just falling

asleep on a hot summer night. The house was shut up tight with the air

conditioning running and the only other people in the house were my parents

who also were in bed. I was just drifting off when I remember distincly

hearing the sound of a loud crash going down the stairs. To adequately

describe this enormously loud noise: it sounded like a large box filled

with china and glass was being pushed down the steps and with each step it

hit it crashed even louder. As soon as the sound stopped I instinctively

thought that a robber was in the house and jumped out of bed, grabbed a

pair of scissors and ran across the hall to my parent's bedroom. My Dad

opened the door and had a gun in his hand - he and my mother were woken up

by the sound and as I coward in bed with my Mother, he searched the house,

but nothing was there. The next morning I went from the attic to the

basement and throughly search every inch of the house - nothing was out of

sorts, no picture fell and broke, nothing could explain the loud crashing

sound. The next summer, the same sound occured, with the same exact

results, but never occured again while I was there. Years before, when my

sister lived with us in this house, she would complain of being kept awake

by scratching noises on the ceiling of her room (which is below the attic)

- my father put rat and mouse traps as well as poison up in the attack, but

never caught a rodent or squirrel - none of the poison was ever touched and

no rodent feces was ever found as evidence of who was making the scratching

noises. When I was in high school, I had another strange experience - it

was early morning (7 am or so) and I got up to let my dog outside, as I

walked into the kitchen, I heard a loud noise that sounded like a huge

lawnmower being turned on, really a deafening sound, like a lawnmower the

size of a semi reving it's engine. The only thing was, my parents were

still in bed and no one was outside cutting the grass. I shrugged it off,

especially since no one else heard this noise. Years later after I moved

out, my sister and her family moved back in with my parents after they sold

their house and were waiting until one that they were building was ready to

be moved into. My mother told me that one evening my sister and her

children went out christmas shopping and she was alone in the house with

the family dog (my father & brother-in-law were still at work). She did

the books for my father's business and had a small office located off of

the back of the house near the garage. The back door was located just on

the other side of this office and she was completely alone calculating

figures and didn't have a radio or television on in the house. She said

suddenly the dog began growling and then she heard voices talking and

thought it was my sister speaking to her kids (my mother never heard the

back door open and didn't see them pass by her doorway - the front door was

never used so they couldn't have come into the house without her noticing

them)- she said it wasn't a distinct conversation, but sounded more like

murmuring. When she and her dog got up and walked out the doorway, the

voices immediately stopped. My sister wasn't there (she returned an hour

later) and again, my mother checked but no tvs or radios were on. In the

late summer of the following year (my sister & her family had since moved

out and into their new home)- I was pregnant with my first child and would

help my mother out with the family business by doing paperwork for her at

her house. I wasn't living in her home, but would drive up a few times a

week to do things like payroll and checks. It was early afternoon and my

mother left me alone in the house (she had a doctors appointment) while I

worked on the week's payroll at the kitchen table. The dog (named Baxter)

was seated at my feet and the house was shut up tight with the air

conditioning on. Located next to the kitchen on the way down the hall

towards the stairs is a door which leads down into the finished basement.

This door was located diagonally across from the refrigerator and after my

mother had been gone for a half an hour or so I got up from the table and

walked over to the refrigerator to get something cold to drink (the dog

went over to the fridge with me - he usually would get a hot dog or piece

of lunchmeat if he begged)- as I went to open the refrigerator door, I

heard a loud and distinct knock coming from the other side of the basement

door. It was a rap, not like a bang, but a knock like one would do to get

someone to open the door. It was like" knock, knock ,knock, knock, knock"

and was very loud. What's weird about this experience is that my instinct

completely took over and my "fight or flight" instinct kicked in - before I

knew it I had ran down the hall, past my mother's office room, and out the

back door. As I stood outside (with goosebumps from head to toe and the

hair all over my body standing at attention) I realized that I had just

left the house - this is how quickly my instincts had reacted - I hadn't

even thought about the knocking or whether to run or not, my body just ran,

which convinces me that my instincts kicked in because this was a definate

paranormal experience (the dog ran out with me and was whining and hiding

behind me as we stood outside). After an hour we went back inside and

waited in my Mom's office until she returned from her appointment. We

checked the house, but nothing out of the ordinary (as usual) and the

basement door had been locked up tight - the only other way into the

basement was another door and steps (which was locked and bolted) which led

up into the garage (which also was locked). I'd have to say that hearing

this knock was the most real paranormal experience I had up to that moment

or since and was made more real and frightening by the fact that my

instincts immediately took over and I ran without even thinking about it.

Only one other incident happened before my parents sold the house (not

because of the paranormal stuff, but for economic reasons and the fact that

they are now too old to take care of a large property) - the spring before

they put the house up on the market I went with my son to visit them

(interestingly - I was pregnant with my second child at the time) - I was

greeted at the back door by my mother and as I walked into the kitchen, I

saw the arm of a man as he walked past the side of the refrigerator and

down the hall towards the stairs. What I saw looked like a bare, male arm

(hairy and muscular) - but this was it, no head or legs just a quick flash

of an arm - I thought it was my Dad going down the hall and I called to

him, but no reply. I walked past the refrigerator and to the steps, but he

wasn't there either. I went up to his room, and found that he was in the

shower, which means it wasn't his arm that I saw. No one else was in the

house (no workmen or other family members) - this occured 2 years ago, and

since then my parents have sold that home. In my own home (which was built

in the twenties) I've heard strange noises as has my husband, but nothing

really frightening - just floorboards creaking and once a loud bang with no

identifiable source, but I do feel that I am sensitive to such things as a

result of the occurances at my parent's home in New Hope.

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