I slept with a ghost

This story takes place back in 2007 in my family’s farm house in Minas Gerais, southern east Brazil. Many weird things happened to members of my family in this house since it was build by gradmas’s father. It’s weird because this farm was build in the middle of nowhere back then and no family ever lived there before ours. I’ve heard many weird stories about this farm but nothig really happened to e into this day.

I was 15 years old when I went to the farm to visit my gradma’s brother who lives there, I was with my cousin that I will call Ellie and her father. We walked aroung the property taking pictures and posing around like any 2000’s teenagers would do. I was facing Ellie with my back turned to the house when she turned pale. I asked what happened and she said she has just seen a little boy wearing a suit standing in the balcony looking at us. The boy was aroung eight years old, had black hair and was very pale, but nothing else happened during this trip.

A few months later we had both forgot about the incident and we got back to the farm to our uncle’s and aunt’s 25 year anniversary celebration. Our intire family would spent the night at the house and them we all would go back home after lunch the next day. Even if the house is big there wasn’t enough space to all of us, so my cousin Ellie and I slept together in a air mattress on the flor in the reception room along with her brother in the couch and her father in another mattress in the same room. This room had a door that opens straight to the balcony where we first saw that little boy months before.

I woke up during the night feeling a cold I never felt before, it wasn’t just natural cold and it was also very odd since it was summer. If you ever feel this cold before you will know what I’m talking about. This could comes from inside. I quickly roled in my blanket but it wasn’t enough. I realized Ellie was also awake and she was shaking. We didn’t think anything of it and we finally fall asleep just to be woken very warm by our seven months old cousin crying in the bedroom next to us. After he stop crying we would fall sleep again and wake up feeling that strong cold. That happened aroung four or five times during the night.

The next day I sleep into lunch time when my mom woke me up to eat. I told her I didn’t sleep well because of how could it was that night. She looked at me worried and said that she couldn’t sleep because of how hot it was that night. She slept with the window opened and the fan turned on and still had trouble sleeping. I asked my cousin and my oncle who sleep in the same room as I did and they said the same. My cousin even said he woke up in the middle of the night and had to remove his t-shirt.

When I was about to come home I told this story my gradma’s bother who lives in the farm and he said one day he woke up feeling a intense and strong cold to find a little pale boy sleeping next to him in his bed.

Scared Sober

I come from a huge, Irish family. I’ve got 11 aunts and uncles, not including their spouses, and each of them has from three to eight kids of their own. My grandparents used to tell us about when they were oppressed for being immigrants and couldn’t celebrate St. Patrick’s Day publicly due to the strong xenophobia that surrounded Irish people when they were young. So, considering how large a family we have and how much we were taught to appreciate it, St. Patrick’s Day is a big deal for us.

Every year, we go to my tiny hometown, where the kids all get together and wreak havoc while every adult with access to alcohol gets so smashed that the older children have to corral the little ones before they start their own version of the purge. Everyone between ages 15 and 20 has to stay completely sober so we can make sure everyone else gets a safe drive home. I’ve had to get my fair share of aunts and grandparents back to their houses in the early hours of the morning, and by now I’m used to avoiding beer and taking care of them, even if I can now legally drink.

The year I’ll never forget, though, was in 2012, the St. Patrick’s Day immediately after I lost both of my grandparents on my father’s side. It really tore us apart, but we promised one another to have a great holiday, if only to honor their memory.

That year’s celebration was like most of them, with a few extra drunken tears thrown in, but all in all, it was pretty fun. Once the partying was over, it was my job to take most of my aunts and uncles with fewer children home, so I didn’t have to make more than one trip in the family van to drop them off. Last one on my route was Kenny, my dad’s older brother who lived in my grandparent’s empty home while his kids were staying with his ex-wife. I can’t imagine how hard it was to stay in that house after losing his parents, but he never complained.

A few things for context: this place is a huge farmhouse twelve miles from the nearest town, surrounded by fields and grazing area for the cattle my grandparents bred and raised. All the cows had been sold since grandma and grandpa died and the whole place felt unbelievably empty as soon as I pulled into the driveway.

Anyways, I got my uncle up to his old room, made sure he was okay, and started eating poptarts in the kitchen, which he promised to give me for being such a good sport and driving people home at four in the morning. I hadn’t been in the house since my grandpa was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a baseball last November. I was right at the base of his skull, just to the left. He’d died from it a few weeks later. My grandpa was a tough, bald guy who like cigarettes just a bit too much, and I’d really looked up to him, so you can see why I really missed the old place. It smelled like smoke and the rain, and it was nice to see all the memories I had of my grandparents again.

As I finished up the last poptart and put on my jacket, I could see a figure sitting in the living room, looking at the TV. The chair whoever it was sat in was between myself and the television, and since they were looking at the TV, I couldn’t see them very well. All I knew was that there was some stranger in my grandparent’s house, and I was the only one awake and sober enough to make sure they didn’t do anything. Not taking my eyes off this guy for a second, I grabbed my pocket knife and the baseball bat my grandparents had kept in their cupboard full of collectables, which I’d bought for them since it was signed by the 1997 Chicago Cubs. I don’t know what I was planning on doing, really. Was I actually just gonna bash this guy’s face in and call the cops? I was a short, chubby sixteen-year-old with the muscle and dexterity of a baked potato, what did I really expect?

Armed, and practically pissing myself, I walked as silently as possible toward the person sitting completely motionless in my grandpa’s old La-z-boy. As I got closer, my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could see him more clearly with just the moonlight. From the back, he was pretty bald, had quite a few liver spots, and had asymmetric ears like all the people on my dad’s side of the family. I didn’t really notice any of these things about him, though, until I was able to see the gaping, baseball-sized hole in the base of his skull, just to the left. Once that caught my eye, I saw everything about him, and, aside from the hole, he looked exactly like my grandfather.

As soon as I had put the pieces together, the TV turned on, blasting static at a volume higher than what I thought the old set could handle. The sudden bright light from the television and loud noise made me cover my ears and blink furiously. The TV shut itself back off in what felt like less than a second, and when I opened my eyes again, the person sitting in my grandpa’s chair had vanished.

I sprinted to my uncle’s room, got him up, and ran with him, as fast as he would let me, back to the van. I pulled out of the driveway and gunned it back to my parent’s house like a bat out of Hell. As I drove off, I swear I saw the TV back on again and someone, still inside the house, staring at me.

the gas mask person that followed me to school

Hi my name is jack i’m in 5th grade i’m 11 i live 12 blocks away from school so of course i have to take the bus my mom and dad has to go to work like always means that i have to go to the boys and girls club after school.

My mom woke me up an hour before school so i can take a shower, get dress ,brush my hair ,and don’t forget eat, my dad already left means i don’t get to say bye. Soon after the bus came i went outside, said bye to my mom and then left when i sat bye my friend named Zack we had been friends since kindergarten. We were playing eye spy to see who has better eye sight. he said i spy something green “that was easy” i said to myself. Right before i said the grass i saw someone with a gas mask and a……gun……he seemed to be following us to school i froze in fear while i watched as we passed him.

“Jack are you okay?” i heard A Zack ask “y…yea” i said while trying to get off  the bus “well bye see you after school” Zack said while waving at me i waved back. I ran to my class once i got in my seat the bell rung “okay class open your history book to chapter five and start where we left off” ms.hill said. i opened my book to chapter five but i cant get my mind off that mask guy

then i heard the office say kind of scared saying “all teachers lock your doors and cover your windows” all she said i pecked under the covered window then i saw jack still in the bathroom i begged my teacher to open the door but she said it was to dangerous then i grab ms.hill’s key and i unlocked the door and ran to jack and pulled his arm in my classroom i slammed the door and locked it “Jack you could of gotten yourself killed” she said whispering right before i got mad at my teacher we heard a gun shot.

“Shoot we are so dead SO dead” Zack said while hiding under a table behind me then we heard a door slamed open it was summers class summer is someone i loved someone i cared about i felt like crying while i herd gun shots and screaming then we heard silence total silence i knew everyone is dead in summers class i was in tears remembering our first kiss our first time meeting why did it had to be summers class why. then we heard knocking and kids screaming it sounded like summer and her two friends louisy and katelen. “Thank god” i said i ran to the door grabing the key from miss.hill’s pocket i unlocked it summer and her friends came in i locked the door and puted two chairs in front of it right when summer saw my face she ran over hugging me everyone was to scared to make fun of us. Garren my class mate said “guys come on” i nodded and sat in the corner of the room then we heard police sirens the mask dude shot the window and ran to the exit i unlocked the door and chased after him he was heading towards the sounds of the siren at the last corner of the school he disappeared just like that boom gone.

When i went back to see if anyone died in summers class….i….i….just a warning stop reading these if you don’t like death or dead kids….i checked summers class and i saw…dead kids they are all dead everyone is DEAD.

when i was waiting for my mom or dad to come summer came she went over and kissed me then she said “thank you for saving me” most of us moved like me and some other kids we are lucky to be alive but we all know that mask guy is still out there somewhere looking for another school.


Midnight Laughter

I live in Northern Wisconsin, where most of my family calls home. Except for my Father’s side of the family. They live in the middle of Minnesota, almost a 3 hour drive away from us. First and foremost, my family, especially my Father’s side, is very religious. Which is a large reason of why they never believe my odd experiences. I have never been the favored child either, always the clumsy and outcasted one. The one with the wild imagination. Two of the only family members around my age are my cousins, R and S. (For their privacy I will refer to them as their first initials). R is 9 months older than me, but always tries to act like I am the baby cousin. S is around 2 years older than me. We have always been close, when we were little we would take our Grandma’s hat pins, go around in a circle to each pick one, and then spill a secret to eachother, but recently we have been growing apart. It doesn’t help that I live so far away, or that I am having troubles with anxiety and depression. But back then, we were all attached by the hip.

The story begins at my Grandparent’s, with R and I begging to have a sleepover, they refused because she had church the next day. But our constant nagging and the thought of me not being able to spend time with her guilted our parents into letting me spend the night. Soon S arrived also, I was excited because I haven’t seen them in a very long time, and I had missed them. R’s house was a big one. There were 4 floors, including the basement. The main floor, with the kitchen and living room, upstairs with her parent’s room and two of her younger sister’s room along with the bathroom, downstairs with R’s and her other sister’s room, and finally the basement with its dark atmosphere, cold cement floors, and lots of closets. When we got settled in, i took a look around her room. Raggedy Ann dolls covered her shelves, normal for her but unsettling for me.

We were up for a while, talking and giggling. Then we soon fell asleep. I had a night terror about bugs crawling over me, ladybugs and ants. I woke up seeing them covering the bed with their squirming 6 legged bodies. I panicked but didnt want to wake my cousins up. Soon my eyes adjusted, and they disappeared. I was too tired to question what had just happened, so I went back to sleep. Suddenly, after what felt like seconds, I woke back up. I looked around, it was pitch black. Then, by movements my cousins made, I realized we were all awake. S and I were wide awake, feeling unsettled, but R was groggy and ready to go back to sleep, so she turned to face the closet. I looked out her open door and I swear i saw a faint glowing blue light coming from the top of the stairs. I told myself it probably wasn’t that late, so R’s parents were still up watching T.V.

After what felt like hours, we just sat in bed, unable to sleep. Then I heard this low maniacal laughter coming from upstairs. S’s eyes met mine. We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Di- Did you hear that too?” I whispered. She nodded slowly, with her eyes wide open. “It could just be R’s parents watching a movie.” I proposed. The possibility of that increased as I thought about it. “Should we go check?” S replied. I nodded. It took us a couple tries to get R out of bed. But I still wasn’t ready for the walk through the dark to the upstairs, but I had to. I had to prove it was her parents, because there must be a reasonable answer to what S and I heard. We made our way upstairs, and I felt a pang of horror when I saw the dark livingroom with the empty couches. We ran upstairs waking up R’s parents, asking them if they were up and what we learned scared me even more than I could possibly think of. R’s parents were dead asleep. S and I begged for R’s father to look around the house, and thats what he did. No unlocked windows or doors, no sign of any intruders. But that was impossible, I had heard it! S had heard it too! S and I looked at each other in horror. Then we were told to go back to sleep. We obliged, and even though R spept like a rock, S and I got no sleep that night.

I still dont know why I had that night terror, or what laughed in the middle of the night. I have never had a night terror before or since then. We have never brought it up since.

Something is in the Apartment

So this story takes place about 2 years ago, I’m now a 20 year old female living on the east coast of America. A little backstory: During my childhood, my mom and dad were constantly in and out of jail. My younger brother and I have lived with my saint of a grandmother since I was 7 and he was 5. My dad had been out for some time and finally found an okay apartment to live in, nothing special but it sufficed. My mother moved in too about two months later. My brother and I would visit whenever we could, which was pretty easy because our high school was a 25 minute walk or so from where they lived. Little did we all know, it would be the start of some bizarre events that none of us could explain. There are several instances so if I’m all over the place, I do apologize.

I remember the first time I walked into that building. I can’t explain the feeling you get as soon and you enter the through the door. It feels so cold and honestly, super depressing, like something horrible happened there. It was always something I kind of shrugged off and I chalked it up to my mind playing tricks on me. Now, my father was never the type of person to believe in the paranormal, and even I was sort of on the fence about it. I would try to rationalize these events to ease my mind in any way I could.

So rewind to 2015, I had just gotten back from a concert I went to with my dad (yes I know that sounds lame, but none of my friends were into metal so my dad was my designated concert buddy.) I was beyond tired after the show so I laid down and did my usual catching up on some YouTube stuff I missed. About an hour later, I finally decided to try sleeping. Because their apartment was so small, I would just drag a mattress into the living room and crash there, fancy living, I know. I had my head facing the door at the end of the hallway when I see what looked like a tall man, maybe 6ft in height, step out from the side room directly into the center of the hallway. He swayed back and forth for a good 30 seconds and then turned and walked back into the side room. Everyone else was sleeping so I just laid there, absolutely fucking paralyzed with fear. I had no way to rationalize it, I was wide awake, wasn’t drinking or anything. I somehow managed to fall asleep and I told my mom everything the next morning and what she began to tell me made my heart beat so hard, I could hear and feel it in my ears. She told me that for the past several months, she would be laying there watching TV when she would hear low guttural growls right next to her head. Then it started happening in the middle of the night. My mom is tiny and sweet looking but she is one tough woman, and she looked horrified telling me this. I think she was lowkey relieved I  experienced because all of this started making her feel crazy. It only started getting worse from here. Her and my father went to bed one night a few weeks later like usual. My mom got up in while my dad was getting ready for work when noticed that she had a pretty bad black eye that wasn’t there the night before. My mom was a light sleeper so she would’ve woken up if my dad had accidentally clocked her in the middle of the night. They just tried dismissing it, until my dad started waking up with long scratches all over his body. My mom was beyond freaked out but again, because my dad didn’t believe in the paranormal, he moved on. So fast forward maybe 3 months, we were all watching a movie and chilling like we usually do when my brother and I would go over. My dad sits up and goes “guys, look at my fucking shirt”, it literally looked like someone was tugging it, I don’t mean it was tugged lightly, it was pulled about 7 inches from his body but we couldn’t see anything holding the shirt. It looked like something out of a movie. We originally thought he was messing with us somehow until he proved he had zero to do with it.

So the Fourth of July comes and the four of us left the apartment to find fireworks, I had canceled plans with friends so I was down for fireworks. At this time, my older half brother was renting the apartment just below my parents due to reasonable prices. My brother called my mom to see if we had left yet, when she told him we were out watching fireworks, he freaked out and told us he thought someone was in our upstairs apartment. He heard heavy walking and drawers being opened and slammed shut. My brother booked it upstairs to find whoever was in there and to probably beat the piss out of them knowing him. The layout of the building is important because if someone were upstairs, they would have to walk right past my brothers door to get out of the building. He was by his door the whole time he heard it. He went up to find nobody, just opened drawers. I’m not gonna lie, I tried to avoid going over there because I always felt as though I was being watched. Around Christmas time of that year, a good friend of my mom and dads named Dave passed away. My mother got to keep his ashes. Now this is relevant because as soon as his ashes were brought in, everything subsided. No growls, no tall dark apparitions, no scratches, no black eyes and so on. I’m not religious or spiritual but I truly think Dave warded off something possibly very evil and protected us. So thank you so much Dave.