For jaxsue - My brother's "ghost story"

[DottyG]

'Bout time to bump this up for some more stories!

[Boots]

Here's a good one.

Co-worker and I were working late one evening. We were the only two in the building, front door was locked.  When you walked in the front doors you had to pass through a half swing door, so you would hear THUMP, Thump, thump, thump, as the half door slowly would swing shut.

The building was shaped like an upside down T.  We were in the hallway to the right of the swing door, her office in the middle of the hall, mine was at the end.  Hard floors, most of us wore heels so you could hear someone a mile away, click, click, click. You get the picture?

Working away and we hear the swing door, THUMP, thump, thump, Click, click, click, click, heels walking straight through the T. I buzz her, "was that you" Nope. she says. She thought it was me. Weird, we didn't hear a key unlocking the front door.......

We get back to work and again! THUMP, thump, thump, thump, CLICk, click, click, click...........

This time she buzzes me, NOPE! Not me!  I say, someone is messing with us and I'm gonna catch them! So I slip my shoes off in preparation to whizz down the hallway......

Sure enough, THUMP, thump, thump, thump,  Click, click, click, click, click and here I go sliding down the hallway in my stocking feet, and I get to the T where the front doors are, I can hear the heels clicking down the hallway to my right, I skid to the corner and look around the corner,,,,,,,,and the footsteps STOP.  I look and the swing door is moving a little and the front doors are locked. No one. No one is there.

Every hair on my body stood on end.  Apparently she felt something too because she came screeching out of her office and said, LET"S GET OUT OF HERE!!

This building was built on the shores of the Rio Grande River and we heard alot of ghost stories from different people.  I believe the place was inhabited by spirits. 

[Roe]

Reading this thread brought to mind many of the "ghostly" experiences I had growing up.  (my mom still lives in that house)

So...in talking about it with my youngest brother...he decided to email a local chapter of a sorta-ghostbusters organization.  They investigate and send mediums to houses, etc.

We shall see if our email gets picked up.   Oh, here's where my brother and I get sent to eHell...we haven't told my mom about it yet!     She'll be upset but she'll get over it...esp since it was her "baby" that did it.  (he can do no wrong)    LOL 

[ica171]

I love threads like this, although I shouldn't be reading it so late.

I have always believed in ghosts, but I don't recall having any experiences with them until I moved out on my own.  The second house I lived in alone was built by my great grandfather and my grandparents had lived there since my dad was in his early teens.  My grandmother moved out after my grandfather died, but my parents owned the house and rented it to me after she left.  The first night there, before I had furniture set up, I was sleeping on the living room floor when someone tweaked my nose.  I heard footsteps downstairs occasionally--after the first few times I was never sure whether I should take it seriously or write it off as the ghost--and once I heard a man and a woman talking in the living room when I was in the kitchen, with the dining room between the two rooms.  I didn't feel threatened because I knew who they were because I knew who had lived there.  Once when my BIL was visiting a picture of my great grandparents flew off the wall and hit him in the head.  I think my grandfather was there, too, because he smoked a pipe and always used vanilla tobacco.  Every once in a while there would be this strong odor of vanilla pipe tobacco.  I knew it wasn't a smell that was in the walls or carpet or whatever, because my mom and I had painted and cleaned the place within an inch of its life before I moved in, and my grandpa hadn't smoked for years before he died because he was on oxygen.  I think he came to visit me because I felt so bad that I hadn't seen him more and he was trying to comfort me.  I still get a strong whiff of vanilla pipe tobacco every so often and I like to think that he's dropping in to check on us. 

When DH and I bought our first house, no one could figure out what the heck it had been built for because there was no kitchen in the original part of the house.  My father, bless his heart, said "School house or funeral home."  Thanks for that, Dad!  The entire time we lived there, and even before we bought it, I hated the basement.  I'm not a fan of basements in general, but I always had this weird notion that one day I was going to open the basement door and there was going to be a white-haired old man standing there in a suit with no eyes.  Thank God I didn't have to go down there to do laundry.

When we first moved into our current apartment, which is over 100 years old, nothing happened for a while.  Then things started moving around, but only in my sewing room.  I was working on a project and left my marking pen out because I knew I'd need it again the next day.  The next day I came in and the pen was gone.  I looked all over for that thing, gave up, and went to get out another pen.  There was the first pen, back where it belonged. 

I had an old green bowl that I used to hold my glue gun to catch the glue drips.  One day I found the bowl in the kitchen.  I didn't know how it had gotten there because I hadn't moved it and I was the only one who went into my sewing room (and generally the only one who picked up dirty dishes) but I didn't think much of it and put it back.  A few days later, the bowl was back in the kitchen.  I was somewhat annoyed but put it back again.  A few days after that, I went into the kitchen where DH was doing dishes.  He looked at me and said, "What on earth is on this bowl?"  I looked and he was trying to scrub the glue off of the hot glue bowl--it had been on the counter when he went to do dishes, so he was trying to wash it.  I laughed and said, "That's my hot glue bowl.  I don't know how it keeps getting in here, but it's supposed to be in the sewing room."  I've never had a problem with it since then--maybe since I said it aloud whatever was moving it understood.  I assumed that since stuff was being moved around in my sewing room it was a female spirit.

Fast forward a month or so.  I'm in bed on my laptop and DH is asleep, a little before 1 AM.  I heard DS#2--a little shy of 17 months at the time--start laughing in his bedroom and didn't really think much of it.  But this went on.  And on.  And on.  I kept getting more and more freaked out over it, too.  Finally, after about fifteen to twenty minutes of this I was so freaked out that I went and got him and brought him into our bed.  DH woke up when I brought him in and I was standing on the side of the bed talking to DH when I saw this bright blue-green glowing orb about eight inches below the ceiling on the other side of the room.  It was kind of shimmering and just floating there, then it slowly moved to the right and disappeared into the wall.  The whole time I was looking at it--just a few seconds--I was thinking "This is not happening.  I should really tell DH to look at it and see if he can see it.  This is not happening" over and over again, but I couldn't make myself say anything.  I don't even think I said anything to DH right after it disappeared; I was still kind of shocked.  If he hadn't just woken up I imagine he would have asked me why I was standing there with my mouth hanging open staring at the ceiling.  I didn't really know what to make of the whole thing because I have never really believed in most orb sightings or whatever--although I did some research and apparently this was more like a "will o' wisp," for whatever it's worth.  I also thought I was the type of person that would never see anything, that would only hear and smell things.  Basically I didn't think that whatever sensitivity I had was strong enough to be visual, if that makes sense. 

This part of the story can be taken for what it's worth, but I posted the experience on a ghost forum and after fielding the typical "it was a car light/reflection/street lamp" stuff (not possible given its position, the room's architecture, and the position of the building and streets) someone asked about new objects that had come into the home.  One was a footstool from a next door neighbor that was getting tossed out after she moved out--she was an older lady and we haven't seen her since the ambulance came one night, so we're not sure if she died or perhaps moved to a nursing home.  The other thing was a crocheted rug DH's grandmother--with whom he was very close--gave to me as our wedding present not long before she died.  At the time, I didn't much like it but I kept it because I would never dream of throwing away anything his grandmother had given us.  Just before all this stuff started happening--the stuff in the sewing room moving around and the orb--I had found the rug in a box at my mom's house.  DS#1 saw it and proclaimed that it was his "magic carpet" and has slept with it every night since.  A sensitive responded to my post at the ghost forum and said "After I read the OP, before I read any of the replies, I felt like this was the energy of a great-grandmother, so I think it could be related to the rug.  I think your husband's grandmother was coming to see her great-grandchildren."  Nothing has happened since then, but it makes me feel better to think that it was someone we knew who had good intentions.  Most of what scares me about ghosts is not being able to know who the spirit is/was and what their intentions are.   

[ica171]

Just thought of another one.  This was maybe a month or two ago.  I was in our bedroom, where DH's desktop computer is, and all of a sudden I heard a male voice as clear as day coming out of the speakers, saying "You got that $10 you owe me?"  I was shocked, to say the least--I had heard a noise out of the speakers a day or two before but this was far beyond that.  My first thought was that it was coming from the computer.  DH plays WoW and talks to people on Ventrilo, so I assumed that he had left Vent on and left the sound on speaker instead of headphones.  Except when I turned his monitors on to check, Vent wasn't open.  Then I looked behind the computer and the speakers weren't even plugged in.  I don't really know what to make of this one, because it's such an odd thing to say, but hey, at least it wasn't "Get out" or something like that. 

A few days ago, I was taking a nap in the afternoon while the kids were asleep, and I woke up when I heard a woman's voice come from the computer.  I was still deeply asleep enough that I didn't catch what she was saying, just the voice, then the computer restarted itself.  I really didn't care to look into it further than that so I didn't turn the monitors on to check or anything, but I couldn't go back to sleep, either.

[DottyG]

MORE STORIES.  NOW!

[Reika]

This was a fairly benign one. My last apartment in NY State seemed to be a waypoint for spirits. The most memorable one for me was the one who was fascinated by my long hair. He (I think it was a he, it seemed more masculine than feminine) would like to lightly pet my hair, then it progressed to actually picking up my hair and letting it fall. Completely weirded me out but I thought it was my imagination. Until mom saw it happen one night and got weirded out herself. Mom asked him nicely to please stop that, I heard a faint sigh and it never happened again.

But he did start petting the cats' fur. They just kind of rolled their eyes in annoyance sometimes, but it didn't bother them.

Oh! And there was one night mom was having a hard time falling asleep, then her bed started to shake. She almost yelled for me thinking that there was something wrong with her bed or the floor when she realized that someone was trying to rock the bed the way you would a cradle.

[Cracea]

Another harmless one.  In 2000 my 1st husband and I moved into a brand new house.  The first night we were drifting to sleep when one of the cats jumped up and curled up between us.  We generally kept our bedroom door closed to keep the kitties out, but I figured new house, all the moving, one had snuck in to check out the new digs.  My husband just mumbled something about leaving it, and not wanting to get out of bed either, I agreed.

The next morning I woke up feeling the cat climbing off the bed.  I got up to shoo out the cat, but there wasn't one there.  I looked everywhere, even moving boxes and furniture around.  My husband wasn't thrilled as I woke him up in the process    I told him there wasn't a cat in the room anywhere.  He rolled his eyes and said it must just be hiding.

He slipped out the door and I followed, making sure to close the door behind me.  Our cats were all in the living room/kitchen.  My husband and I just stared at each other.  Over the next few years, until I moved away in 2006, that ghost cat would climb up on the bed at least monthly.  I found it more comforting than scary, especially after my husband died.

[Samantha]

Somehow, every time I see this thread, it is after midnight. I have GOT to stop reading it so late at night.

I've told my stories on other threads, so I won't bore you with them again. I'm amazed at how many of us seem to be sensitive though.

[DottyG]

I'm not sure I saw the stories. Post them anyway!

[Samantha]

Let's see... The first one involves a ouija board, and takes place when I was a sophomore in high school.

I had skipped school with two of my friends, and one of them had a ouija board. While using the board, each of us felt as though we were being touched inappropriately. We left the room. My friend ended up putting the board in the dumpster for the next trash day. A few weeks later, she was looking through her closet for something, and found the board in with her games.

The second one also involves a ouija board, but took place when I was freshman in high school.

I was at my best friends house, having a slumber party with her and her boyfriend was also there (her Mom was open minded, and allowed us to have co-ed sleepovers). It's late at night, and we decided to use the ouija board. After awhile, we get thirsty/hungry, so they go to the kitchen to get some cans of pop and make popcorn. When they return to the room, they find me huddled on the bed, white as a sheet... The board had spelled my name, with no one touching it. Of course, her boyfriend being a guy, we just HAD to keep using the board. When we asked who we were speaking with, the name we were given was Damien. There is more, but it makes me very uncomfortable to talk about, as it involves the board giving us details about my cousin (whom my friends had never met), and things that she was involved with, and how Damien wanted her "help" with something.

We later found out that someone had died by suicide in my friends bedroom back in the 70's... in the midst of a ritual.

I haven't touched a ouija board since then.

Third story took place in San Diego, around Halloween 2004. I had gone to the Whaley House with someone I had been on a few dates with. I'll call him Jake. Jake was an amateur photographer, and had his camera with him.

When looking in the birthing room (I think that is what they said it was), I felt someone rest their hand on my forearm, like they were trying to get my attention, but no one was there when I turned around. Jake was the person closest to me, and he was several feet away talking to one of the volunteers. He came over, and after I told him what I had felt, he took some photos of the area, and then we moved to the staircase, to explore the second floor. He said there was a definite difference in the temperature from where he had been standing to where I was standing.

The volunteer at the bottom of the stairs told us to stop on the ninth step to see if we could feel anything (The deal with the ninth step is that Yankee Jim - who was hanged at the house - sometimes likes to hang out (ba dum bum) on the ninth step, and people who pause will sometimes feel tightness in their chest, and around their neck. Some people will also get a red mark around their neck, like a rope burn). I was on the third or fourth step, Jake was waiting on the landing still, and I felt something brush against my left leg. I turn around, and ask him if he was trying to mess with my head, and if he had just been playing with my jeans. He looks at me as though I'm nuts and tells me that he didn't touch me, that he had been playing with the settings on his camera. The Whaley family had a small dog named Dolly. To the docents knowledge, Dolly never left the first floor, but she may have decided to be adventurous.

And that is everything that I have for this evening.

[DottyG]

WHOA!  Those are goosebumpy!  Thanks for sharing them!

[housewife2k]

Housewife2k's PSA regarding Ouija boards.
Get rid of them, do not buy them, do not 'play' with them, and if you have one that will.not.go.away. put it in a dark place and pretend it never existed.
I know many people who are 'sensitive'. We all hate ouija boards. There is something wrong about them. They are to door to door salesmen and telemarketers who call during dinner of the spirit world. They are bad news.

[Samantha]

I haven't touched one since the night the board spelled my name. I refuse to have one in my house, and will not allow any children that I may have to use one.

[housewife2k]

I haven't touched one since the night the board spelled my name. I refuse to have one in my house, and will not allow any children that I may have to use one.

good.
Most tools and toys I caution people about using without knowing what tehy are doing. Understand tarot before you give a reading, don't through runes without knowing the meanings, and don't get invilved in Voodoo based on what you see in the movies.
ouija is the one thing I tell people to never do. period.