This isn't a ghost story but it still scared the crap out of me!
When I was about 14 one of my sisters (12 at the time) got sick with some type of flu. The second night her temperature rose quite a bit. I remember going into her room, my parents were there with her trying to cool her down, and she was delirious with the fever. She started talking crazy stuff and her eyes were all glazed looking. She looked and sounded posessed! I was afraid for her, luckily the fever broke in an hour or two right before my parents decided to take her to the ER.
My youngest sister was a sleepwalker...we'd catch her doin' all kinds of crazy things in the middle of the night. Once Mom caught her pulling all the houseplants out of their pots...she thought she was helping to weed the flower beds LOL. It's weird how people are able to speak and even carry on a conversation while they are sleepwalking...always kind of creeped me out though.
I don't suffer from insanity but enjoy every minute of it - Edgar Allan Poe
Almost everyone has experienced the kind of dream where you're falling and you always wake up before you hit the bottom..
I knew a lady who forced herself to not wake up, to go on until she hit the bottom. In her dream she was falling into a chasm and didn't wake up until after she hit the ground.
That morning when she woke up my friend and I saw her, the night before she had appeared normal but the next morning her body was swollen and sore. I would have though that she had got into a fight or something, except we had been with her the entire night. She was baffled as to why she was in so much pain. The swells turned to bruises that covered her entire body and mostly her back. The next night as we were all laying down to sleep she came and woke us up.. she had just remembered the dream about her falling and she remembered hitting the ground. She kept insisting that it was the only possible explanation for her bruises.
I did some research into it and found out that people really can cause themselves injury from their dreams. If the mind believes something to be real, then your body makes it so. If you die in one of your dreams then your brain can cause your body to stop working, convinced that it is dead.
Kinda Creepy eh?
FoLlOw Me To ThE eNd Of ThE wOrLd, AnD i'Ll Be ThE oNe To PuSh YoU oFf ThE eDgE.
I live in the town of Rush Springs, Oklahoma. About five miles west of the town is a haunted area.
If you turn right onto Acme fire station road and drive three quarters of a mile north you'll pass a decrepit old trailer trailer house where two little boys shot their daddy in the head with a 30.06 deer rifle in 1992.
Continue north until you come to the first intersection, hang a left, then left again at the next intersection.
You soon cross a circa 1920's concrete bridge known to us locals as "Rosemary's bridge" although Rosemary's bridge was actually a wooden structure washed away in a flood with Rosemary and her baby somewhere around 1920.
Rosemary's body was found but not the baby's - it's cries can still be heard in the woods.
About twenty feet from the bridge is a tiny graveyard in which 15-20 Mexican field hands are buried in a mass grave - they also drowned in the 1920 flood.
Continue on south and you come to the Rush Springs sink hole.
The sinkhole is a bottomless pit where men who didn't want to be fathers would dispose of pregnant girlfriends, apparently up into the 1950s.
About 1/2 mile south of the sink hole is an underground house where a father and daughter murdered a woman circa 1983, chopped her up into bits and scattered her body parts through several pastures.
The man eventually confessed to the crime and tried to help the cops find all the bits but her head was never located.
All this stuff is within a mile sqaure.
"I don't mind pushing the Dodge through gang territory 'cuz I'm a mighty stegosaurus."
- Al Bundy, Halloween, 1993
This is rather not a ghost story, but more a continuing thing. Moving on.
In my room my bed is an extremely old bed. It is over 50 years old (not the mattress mind you, that would just be icky), and was at one point owned by this man who died in the same room as it (I believe he was shot by his fiance, who thought he was going to call off the wedding). So now, and I'm not sure why the bed has to do with this, but it does, any time I sleep at any other person's house, or at a hotel...or just generally not in my own bed (with the exception of when I sleep in the living room in my own house), almost anytime before I go to sleep I see this floating...thing. Like a veil, a whitish/grey (not snow white...er...I shall be cheesy and say navajo white) color, and it just floats there, not coming closer to me, lowering, going up, down. Just floating. This only happens if I happen to be looking straight to the right of me (or the right of the bed/cot/whatever I am laying on, seeing as I sleep on my back, stomach, side, whatever). I've tried to get up to see what it is more closely before, but yet I never can seem to get up. Only one other person has seen what I've seen, and even then she thought something was playing tricks on our eyes. But anyway, the weird thing is, I don't feel frightened by it. I just feel...like it is calm, and it is just hanging around. Creepy, no?
one day i was in bed and i noticed that my window was open and my letter had flow away i thought "ill have to make another one . The next day i made a new letter n my room when i saw a pail face in front of me it dropped the letter that flew out of the window last night iran out of my to tell my family none of them belived me so i hope you will!:
One of the first very strange incidents that happened to me in this haunted house of mine(That is open for tours almost every night ) was maybe 15 years ago.
It was winter, I was living here all alone.
I was standing in the front room playing with some video tapes on the tv, the tv provided the only source of light in that room.
I heard the south outside door open and close in the next room ,into the the kitchen.
This didn't concern me because it could have been any one of a dozen friends or relatives dropping by to say "Hi!"
I heard footsteps coming across the hardwood kitchen floor , headed my direction.
I heard and saw the door open into the room.
I couldn't make out who it was because I had a long , sheer curtain hanging right there, but it was someone, male or female? I saw a "body".
They entered the room, walking still obscured from my veiw by the furniture that I had stacked up creating a room divider effect, I heard their feet on the floor (no carpet yet).
At the end of the "room divider" hung a second sheer curtain.
What I saw step from behind that curtain can be very easily and quickly described.
It was a pair of black jeans , with no feet or upper body, it took one-step,two steps and vanished into thin air!
There I am standing all alone inside this old 1870 inn located at the end of a dead end street surrounded by woods with the city graveyard looking down on me from the next hill.
I slowly said, "O K ."??
Many years later as I described this to a psychic he said, "It was the Lady-In-White!" (The acclaimed resident ghost here)
"Lady-in-white wearing black jeans?"
"She wears black leotards under her white dress!"
He stated very quickly.
"?"
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"My Insanity is well-respected, until they wiggle free and become a stringer for a tabloid"
The following story was told to me by a Policeman and he says that he can get a police report giving the details of what I am about to type here.
He was a young policeman , on his first job, working in a town of 18,000 in the center of Illinois.
A man there had been a memeber of a satanic cult, he had either stole or borrowed several thousands of dollars without paying the money back before he died.
After his burial his widow began getting phone calls saying, "We want our money!"
She would scream and drop the phone, eventually staying on the phone long enough to tell them she had no money.
This regular harrasment continued for three years.
then the phone caller said ,"Your Husband is about to meet this maker, satan.
He is so afraid of satan that he is laying on his side in a fetal position with his hands over his ears because satan's voice is so loud."
She screamed and dropped the phone and then called to have her husband's body exhumed.
That sunny day the Police cordoned off the graveyard. The backhoe worked digging as the entire group of people responsible for any part of the internment were on hand. The Mortician, the forensics man.
The cement vault was lifted out by the tractor, it's lid slid aside, there was the coffin waiting inside.
As the lid of the coffin was removed the Policeman telling me this was standing beside the widow.
There he was in his eternity box, on his side, fetal position, hands cupped over his ears!
The widow collapsed into the Policeman's arms.
"That was a neat trick!"
The Policemen said next as he told me about this.
"Neat Trick?"
"Yes, the satanist's grave had not been disturbed at all in those 3 years, the grass and soil were evidence of this. The grave was located very near the edge of the graveyard , walk through a low hedge and there's the four-lane, across the the road was a 24 hour-a-day gas station with it's big, bright lights always on, making it very difficult for any monkey business to transpire .
My comment on all of this is :"If there were some satanists or any person who could do such a horrific "trick',(Affecting dead bodie's in-coffin movements) why would they waste their time scaring a helpless widow over a few thousand dollars when they could be scaring milions from the wealthiest people in the world?"
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"My Insanity is well-respected, until they wiggle free and become a stringer for a tabloid"
Ok as everyone seems to be into sharing their ghost stories here's mine, it's true and happened about two years ago. Sorry if it's a bit long!
I purchased the house I'm living in which is in the country surrounded by woods, it was a bargain but really run down. I thought it would make a great project and moved in and did it up room by room, the whole renovation took about six months of hard work and I was never at all uneasy about being in the house.
Everything was fine until about the last couple of weeks of work when I took the floorboards in the bathroom up to install the central heating pipes. Much to my surprise I found a sealed room under the bathroom with a gramaphone, a few mouldy books and a couple of pictures up on the wall. Walking around the house I realised that at one point this must have been part of the lower floor (the servants area when the house was put up) and I was able to find where it connected to the downstairs part of the house (it's on 3 floors, the lowest one is partly underground due the house being on a slope).
It didn't seem worth knocking the entrance out as the room was very small and I had plenty of space so I decided to remove all the objects, lay the pipes and replace the floorboards. Weird though it might sound I was very busy with dozens of other projects with the house and didn't really think much of it. I looked through the stuff I'd got out and only one thing seemed worth saving and that was a perfectly ordinary looking picture of a Japanese scene of a lake and fishing boats. Despite the room having been sealed and mouldy the picture was in perfect condition so I thought I'd hang it up in the bathroom. At the time I had very little of my own stuff in the house, most of it was in storage, so I just put it up and moved on to other projects. That's when things got a bit strange.
I was living there with my cat, up till that point she was just interested in exploring the house and seemed very much at home. To be honest she was more interested in exploring the woods behind the house and I didn't see a lot of her. For several nights though she would cry from the door outside the bathroom and more than once I saw her race through the house with her eyes huge and her tail sticking up like something had really scared her. I'm almost embarrased to admit that if I woke up in the night and wanted a glass of water I found myself avoiding going into the bathroom, which was nearer, and going instead down to the kitchen. Several times I was in the bathroom and felt as though someone was stood behind me or that the air didn't taste right, I can't explain it more than that. It was suddenly a very unpleasent place to be even visitors who came to look at the house commented that it had a bit of an odd feel to it. Again I was so tired and overworked that I just put it down to being alone in the house and ignored it but I did take the picture down and the room felt much better after that. I put the picture on the kitchen table with some other junk to be taken to the rubbish tip.
The evening I'd moved the picture to the kitchen table I woke at around 2am to hear something moving downstairs. Where I live is totally isolated and by that point I was well used to the sounds of the house cooling down in the evening and the various pipes and suchlike. It was a definite dragging sound that was coming from the kitchen. I was so disturbed I went into the study, loaded the shotgun and went downstairs. I'm not by nature a nervous person and to be honest though I like to be frightened by horror films the moment I turn the DVD off or stand up in the cinema any frisson of excitement or fear is gone for me, I'm sure many people are the same. What I saw down there though really did make me very afraid.
The kitchen table had lots of gouged out bits on it, I can only describe it as the back of the picture which had hooks in it had dragged around the table making a swirling pattern. I didn't see anything move but there was no other logical explanation. I suppose a hardline realist would say ok your cat jumped on the picture and moved it causing the scratches but believe me if you were stood there at 2am like I was and saw the marks you'd have been freaked out too!
I didn't even want to touch the picture and instead left it where it was and went back to bed but didn't sleep much. Through the night I could hear more sounds from down there including thumps and bangs that made me consider getting the cat and leaving to go and stay with someone for the night. In the morning I got up and took the picture outside.
I had a big pile of stuff to burn, old papers and bits of wallpaper and trash like that. I still had another room to do so I decided to leave off destroying it until I'd finished collecting up the rest of the stuff. I didn't like leaving the picture on the rubbish pile though so I threw it into the old greenhouse which was also full of stuff that was destined for the rubbish tip, an old mangle, a few pieces of rotting furniture etc. That night I slept fine, I'd finished taking down all the old wallpaper and was ready to burn the picture the next morning along with all the stuff I'd gathered.
When I went outside the next morning the greenhouse glass was covered in deep scratches, from the inside. The algae and moss that was growing on the inside was very definitely scraped away in picture sized swathes. Worse that that though was the absolute certainty that the picture had been rubbing against the door and window, like some kind of animal trying to get out. I got it out and burnt it along with piles of old rubbish.
After that the house felt a lot more peaceful, I never did use that room and everything else from there got burnt. I should say that I'm obviously a horror fan, and by extension a fan of ghost stories but up until those events I had never considered that something strange would happen to me personally. I definitely have a more open mind on things like that now.
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