My grandpa and his ghost

When I was 15, I moved in with my grandpa.

I had lived at that house with my mom before when I was really young, and I always hated the upstairs floor because I had an encounter with a ghost there when I was 5 or 6. What had happened was I had been looking for my mom all over the house, and calling out for her.

“Mommy? Mommy? Where are you?” I already looked upstairs for her, but since I had just looked in the basement I figured she had time to go back up to her room.

When I got back up to her bedroom door and opened it, I again asked, “Mommy?”, only to find the shadowy figure of a man sitting on her bed across from me. He was watching me, and tilted his head. I heard him imitate me by asking, “Mommy?” as if he didn’t understand what it meant.

I screamed my head off and bolted downstairs, almost wanting to run backwards because I felt a presence behind me, but I just kept going, only to find my mom at the bottom of the stairs.

That has always haunted me. My grandpa talked to his neighbors who had lived there longer than him, and they told him that there was an older man with a beard named Frank who lived in the house two owners before him, and that he had died in the backyard while shoveling or raking, of a heart attack. Every time something unexplained happened to my grandpa, he had an ongoing joke about blaming Frank.

For example, my grandpa had gotten a new camera to snap photos of our vacation in Mexico that he set down on the desk.

He would go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and when he came back it would be gone. He searched throughout the house, and eventually gave up and bought a new one. A few days later, low and behold, the old camera was sitting on the desk where he had left it. He’d laugh it off, saying things like, “Damn you, Frank! You just outed me fifty bucks!”

It was almost like they were buddies, in their own weird way.

Fast forwarding back to moving in as a teen, I was still weary of the second floor.

Throughout living there until I was 20, my room had to, of course, be upstairs. I’d experienced footsteps stomping up and down the stairs which were just about three feet away from my bedroom door, my door closing by itself even though it wasn’t weighted and would stay where you left it, my cat growling and glaring into thin air, etc.

When I was about 18 and out to a movie with friends, my grandpa called me asking if I was home.

I said no and that I was on my way.

He said that was odd, because he swore he heard me crying right outside his window, and when he went out to look, nobody was there. A few days later, I was on the phone in bed and my cat kept jumping up on and bugging me so I temporarily locked her out by shutting the door until I was done with my conversation.

About a minute later, she jumped back on the bed, which made me immediately look up at my door, which had been opened again. Suddenly, I could hear a woman faintly crying on the other side.

It lasted for what seemed like forever, but was probably only around 15 seconds, until I got up to investigate.

Only then did it stop.

A few years later when I was 21, I moved out because my grandpa’s health had been deteriorating due to his alcoholism, and despite my help, he just wouldn’t help himself and I was getting sick of it, plus it seemed like the activity wasn’t going to cease.

Six months later, my grandpa died. It came as a huge shock, and for a while I blamed myself because I thought, maybe if I had stayed with him he would have somehow lived longer. Maybe I could have done something. But I kept my feelings to myself, because my mom was completely devastated, as she was pretty much his favorite kid and everyone in the family knew it. It was always kind of like that. My grandpa, my mom, my siblings and I.

The house was sold to the bank because he just honestly didn’t take very good care of it, and luckily the locks hadn’t been changed right away because I needed to grab a few personal items for my apartment that I’d left there.

When my husband and I walked through the house, it was eerily dark and cold, like a ghost of the house I knew growing up. I soaked it all in, all the memories that I’d never be able to visit again, because he was gone.

I still struggle with his death to be honest.

But I felt like I was being watched the whole time, which I didn’t mention to my husband because it was just the vibe that you felt at that house and nothing new.

But the weirdest part of all of this, is months later, my mom and aunt spoke to an alleged psychic, who said my grandpa hasn’t moved on yet. She said he’s staying with “The boy”, who we assume is my little brother who has down syndrome.

My grandpa watched my brother at least every other weekend for his entire life. Before he was cremated, my mom tried to gently tug my brother into looking at GP (which is what all of us called him), but he shook his head and refused.

We think GP stays with David to keep him at peace. But the psychic said GP also hangs out with someone in the after life.

An older man, who has a beard.

They spent weeks trying to decipher who the psychic was talking about, until they told me about what she said and I immediately gasped and said “Frank!” Their eyes lit up. “Oh my God, I think you’re right!” My aunt was stunned.

To this day, I firmly believe that when my grandpa isn’t with my brother, he’s hanging out in the afterlife with Frank, haunting the house with the ghost that haunted him. To the next person who ends up living there, good luck

I used to live in a haunted house

The story I’m about to tell happened in a small village, on the Russian border. I was about 7 or 8 years old when my family moved to a house that was built by the previous owners. By the time we moved in, the house was about 70 years old or so. The house had a main floor, an attic and a basement, where the sauna was. I always hated going in the basement alone and didn’t enjoy going to the attic either.

I will start with my mom’s experience. I was 16 and we had already moved out of the old house when she told me about this. She said that she never felt welcome in the house, and she was slightly afraid every time she was inside alone.

One day, when she went to get something from the attic, she heard a box fall off onto the floor on its own. This obviously scared her, especially since she knew she was alone in the attic. The attic had 2 windows and only one light bulb, leaving a greater half of it completely dark at night and during the winter. Due to the darkness she couldn’t see which box fell down, or why it did that. I’m kind of happy she didn’t tell me this before we moved out, even though I was super interested in paranormal things as a child, and still am.

The next incident involves my little brother and me. We shared a bedroom and had a bunk bed, my brother sleeping in the top. One night when we were laying in our beds, trying to sleep, my brother spoke. “There is a little dot of light moving around the wall”. I was absolutely terrified. Yes, I loved scary, paranormal things, but didn’t want to experience such a thing right before sleeping. Still, I opened my eyes, but as expected, didn’t see any light sources in the room. “It is just a headlight of a car that’s driving by” I told my brother. There was a road right next to our house, but it was not busy at all, and it was simply impossible for a headlight to shine in our room through the curtains. I don’t know if my explanation calmed my brother down or not, because I turned around and continued sleeping.

The last thing that I know of happened to me. My parents, little brother and our dog were all outside. I was inside, playing a text based role-playing game on a laptop. What a nerd, yeah I know. The laptop was unsurprisingly on top of a table. Now, I have to describe this table a little bit, as it is important to know what it was like. The table was extendable, it was basically in two parts, and a third one could be installed in the middle. Underneath the tabletop was a frame, that also was in three parts. For some reason, the frame of the extension part was able to move around, as if it had hinges. If the frames moved, they would make some noise, and this is important.

So, I was happily playing inside, actually in the middle of writing, when it happened. The table started shaking violently. It made the loudest noise it possibly could. The loose frame was rattling underneath the table. At first I was dumbfounded, I was not expecting this. Then I stood up, took the laptop with me and just stood there, staring at the table. I had no idea of what was happening, but I didn’t feel afraid or scared. I was actually curious. Why did my table start shaking, what was shaking it, do I need to do something about it? Not too long after the shaking just stopped, as suddenly as it had started. I put the laptop aside and decided to investigate. I tried shaking the table myself, but I couldn’t produce as loud and fast rattling as the table did. So I couldn’t have possibly been the one shaking it, right? Then, what did shake it? Nothing else in the house was shaking, and strong enough earthquakes don’t really happen in here. I also checked later, and there weren’t any kind of earthquakes around the area. It couldn’t have been a train, the tracks were way too far away, and once again, nothing else was shaking. This is the most intense paranormal thing that has ever happened to me.

As I’m writing this now, I’m half expecting my table to start shaking, and full hoping it wouldn’t. Ever since we moved out of that house, nothing of this kind has happened to me again, but I will forever remember these few happenings. I still enjoy scary and paranormal things, but I’m not so keen on having first hand experiences with those things, again.

My haunted childhood home

What I am about to share with you are a few paranormal occurrences that happened to me growing up in my childhood home.

I have told very few people about this, but it has been weighing on me for years.

I am 27 years old now, and these things had happened to me from the ages of 5 to 18, 18 being the age when I moved out of my mother’s house and into my first apartment.

Let me start off by saying that I am a very rational person. I work as an internal auditor for a major corporation in my area, and am a mother of an 8 year old boy and two dogs, so my personality is more serious than fanciful, but I have NEVER denied the existence of the paranormal.

I grew up in an older, rougher neighborhood of St. Paul, Minnesota that used to be a swamp or bog, but dried up enough so houses could be developed. Remnants of the swamp are still present to this day. My block was filled with families of middle class people, making happy homes in an otherwise tough area. The houses were older, mine happened to be near 100 years at the time, and it showed.

I was raised by my mother, had one sister, Shannon, who is two years my junior, and one German Sheppard named Jersey.

I am going to need to explain the layout of the house, as it will be important for the events that occurred throughout my childhood.

My house was decent sized, two bedrooms on opposite ends of the house, living room, bathroom, porch and kitchen on the main level, a basement with two storage rooms, a half bathroom with only a shower and a mirror, a laundry room, sitting area and a spare room my mom converted into a guest bedroom. My mom and sister both had rooms on the main level; my sister’s was located near the narrow stairwell to the basement and my mother’s just off the living room. My living space was upstairs in the attic which had my own living room and bedroom that was just a few steps down from a mini balcony. In my room, I had a very large walk in closet.

My first childhood memory is actually my first experience with whoever or whatever was in my old house. I remember sitting at this desk my mom built into the pantry in the kitchen which had become her home office. Back in the 90’s when computers where just starting to make their way into homes, I was excited that once my mom was finished with her projects, she would let me play on it. I would sit there for hours just play typing or being a weird little kid. One day, however, as I was messing around on the computer, I remember feeling very, very cold. It was weird because it was summer time, and though it was dusk, it should never have been that cold. Then, something caught my attention.

From the kitchen, I could see into my little sisters room and the open entrance to the basement stairs. Thinking maybe it was my sister darting into my peripheral, I turned to look at her, only to see me, but not me. At the top entrance of the stairs, I saw a perfect clone of myself in the same princess nightie I was already wearing, except whatever it was had big, black eyes.

It just stared at me for a couple moments, looked towards the stairs, then back at me, before once again turning towards the stairs and walking down them slowly, as if beckoning me to follow. I did not. I might have been a little kid, but I wasn’t stupid. And I was not sleeping or dreaming, as just a few moments after that thing disappeared, my mother called to me to get off the computer and get ready for bed. I remember that occurrence vividly to this day.

Another experience I had in my house that I actually shared with my sister was in our basement. We had always hated going down there. It was oddly cold, even in the summer, and gave us the creeps. One night when I was in middle school, I was babysitting my sister so our mom could have a well deserved dinner night out with her friends. Mom asked me to get a jump start on laundry, and begrudgingly I obliged. The laundry room in the basement was one of my least favorite rooms.

While I was down there putting clothes into the machines, I heard a bunch of toys go off in one of the storage rooms. I remember jumping up and getting pissed off thinking Shannon had tried to scare my, so I ran out of the laundry room to yell at her, only to find no one there. I yelled for her and she came running from the living room upstairs into the basement with me. I asked her if she made all these old toys go off at the same time, and she said, “No, I haven’t. I’ve been up watching TV in the living room.” After she said that, we both heard a low, feral growl coming from behind one of the shelves in the storage room. Needless to say, we booked it out of there and went back upstairs to where our dog, Jersey was sleeping and held onto her and each other until our mom came home. That was the only time I had ever heard that growl, but not the last time all the toys would go off randomly, seemingly on their own.

The next experience I had was when I was a teenager, in the basement bathroom. I was taking a shower downstairs for whatever reason when suddenly, I heard a loud bang and saw a black shadowy figure out of the corner of my eye above me. I immediately jumped out and screamed for my mom. I wrapped myself in my towel and moments after, my mom came down in a panic asking me what was wrong. She had heard the noise too, and thought I had slipped, fell and called for help. She was shocked to see me perfectly fine, but scared. I told her about the black shadow, she sort of scoffed at me until I noticed her turning to leave, satisfied that I was okay and it was just an “old house” noise, until I saw her eyes widen and her jaw drop. I turned to look in her direction, and on the mirror, there was a large crack, with a long, smeared hand print in the condensation. She didn’t even have to ask if it was mine or not, because if it was, my hand surely would have been bleeding or scratched, which it wasn’t.

Now, onto the last and final experience I am willing to share that truly opened me up to the fact that there is more to this world than I could ever imagine.

As I have stated earlier, I had the entire attic to myself, which, as a moody teenager, I loved the idea of my family not being able to sneak up on me or bug me as much. If they really wanted to talk to me or see what I was up to, they needed to make an effort to get up the stairs, walk through the living area and across the balcony, which by that point, I would have heard them coming.

On more than one occasion, I would see a black shadow of a man. It looked like an older person by the way the shadow body would slouch a little, like old people do. He never would do anything but appear in my room at night when it was dark, but I would still see him. Somehow, he was darker than the nighttime lighting. I would see him walk into my room, look at me, walk towards me a little, then disappear like he was never there. I never saw his face, just a shadow. I admit that over time, it did not scare me anymore. Not even my dog would wake up when he would show up, which was almost nightly, so I didn’t think he meant me any harm.

That all changed one night when I was 17 years old. It was about 11:30 PM, maybe midnight, and the rest of my household was long asleep. My loyal and loving dog Jersey, once again, laying at the foot of my bed. I have always been a night owl, so I was still wide awake, writing in my journal with the help of the little lamp on my night stand, when all of a sudden, I felt this weird pressure on my head and shoulders, and a chill that ran throughout my body. Jersey’s head then popped up from her sleep. She began to stare at my walk in closet door. All of a sudden, the doorknob started to jiggle, like someone is trying to turn it, but couldn’t. It was just a closet door, so no one could be in there, even if they tried, and it wasn’t locked.

It was then that the hair on my neck began to stand up, and Jersey started to growl. I quickly turned off my lamp, and threw myself onto the opposite side of the bed where my dog was, and hung onto her neck, while she continued to growl, only now, she was growling at the shadow man who had appeared once again. This was the first time Jersey even reacted to him or it, and she did not keep her eyes off of him.

This time, he didn’t walk towards me, but only looked at my and then walked to my closet, through the door. He walked through the freaking door! I don’t know why that scared me so much, I knew he was a shadow, but I had never seen that happen before. Jersey then jumped up and ran off my bed and began to growl louder, more threateningly at the closet door. And that’s when it happened.

From the other side of the door, I could hear my heavy oak dresser start to rattle, then it was all out shaking. I didn’t dare go in, but I could tell it was shaking from side to side, as if something or someone was aggressively trying to empty it fast. The best sound I can use to describe it is a washing machine shaking while in spin cycle and one side is heavier than the other.

The dresser was violently making that noise so loudly, that it woke my sister and my mother up. The first person I heard coming up the stairs was my sister. She was screaming my name and I could tell she was afraid like I was. All the while, Jersey was barking and growling like I had never heard before. Once I saw Shannon, I jumped out out of my bed and ran to her, sobbing while my dresser just kept shaking violently. She was just as terrified, hearing what was coming from my closet. Only a couple short moments after my sister came into my room, my mom was there. She grabbed us both in her arms and in her authoritative voice, she commanded for my dog to “come”, and then it stopped.

It just… stopped.

As soon it did, the pressure, chill, and hairs on the back of my neck went away, and Jersey calmed down.

Nothing like that ever happened again, which I am glad for.

I don’t know why it only stopped when my mother spoke. I don’t know why it happened to begin with. But it did.

I moved out of that house not long after when I was 18, as I had gotten pregnant with my son. I don’t know if it was one or more “ghosts” or maybe a “demon” or poltergeist that was doing it, but I am glad I no longer live at that house.

My mom ended up selling the house and moving a little over a year after that happened when she married my step dad, but since my grandparent’s still live in that area, I often have drive by on my way to their house. Every time I do, the hair on the back of my neck still stands up, and I feel like whatever it is, is still there, and that it is watching me, waiting for me to come back.

The ghost in my bathroom

This experience happened about a week ago, and it is my first paranormal experience.

This happened in my house, which is kind of creepy, because nothing paranormal has ever happened in my house. I always had an interest in the paranormal, but I never thought something like this would happen to me. So, about a week ago I was taking a shower in the bathroom, and I heard a knock. I yelled at the door “whose there?”. No response. I tried again.

No response, just a door flies open, which scares the absolute hell out of me. I was terrified, and this was really scary for me. I turned around since I was naked, but there was nothing there. I shut off the shower right away and put a towel on. But, what happened after that was even scarier.

The shower turned on by itself, and I hurried up to put my clothes on, since my friend was spending the night. I wanted to tell him all about it, which I did, but he didn’t believe me. I told him to take a shower for himself after that. He did, but something even worse happened to him. He got pulled back and hit his head on the shower wall.

I turned off the water, and helped him up. He then believed me as the toilet flushed on its own, and the lids were going up and down. We ran the hell out of that bathroom and tried to sleep that night, which we never did. We plan on buying a Ouija board to see why he did that to my friend.

For now, it’ll stay a mystery and something to think about.

The Thing at my Friends House

This happened to me when I was 16 years old. I had just moved to a new area not long before this happened and I was really happy about being able to spend the weekend at my new friend Alicia’s house. She lived in a huge rebuilt old farm house and she had the top floor all to herself, except for the guest room which was where I was going to be staying. This meant that we would have lots of space to goof around without getting yelled at.

We had been hanging out for a couple of hours and were in the middle of watching a movie when I heard what sounded like a door slam from her closet. I jumped and went to go see what had made the noise I had always been rather fearless. Alicia stopped me and said that it was the attic door that was in her closet slamming because of the “mean ghost guy”, and that if I went in there he would start messing with me.

At that point in my life I didn’t really believe in ghosts so I rolled my eyes and opened the closet door brushing off that the handle was colder than I though it should have been. The first thing I noticed was that it was freezing in her closet like in a freezer freezing. Then I noticed door in the left side of her closet was hanging open and a set of wooden steps was leading up on the other side of the door. I decided that the attic being open was why it was cold in the closet and so I closed the door and turned to my friend who now looked terrified.

She told me that he would want to hurt me now and that I should be careful. I rolled my eyes and said that if he was real he should come say hi to me tonight followed by a few jokes about people cutting holes in sheets to be scary. My friend just shook her head at me and looked worried.

That night because of my friends college age brother returning home early I found myself sleeping on a mattress on the floor beside her bed instead of in the guest room. I laid there and feeling nervous for a reason I didn’t know. Then when I finally started falling asleep something grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me under my friend’s bed. I screamed and the light in the room flipped on as my friends mother flew in the room. I told her and my friend what happened my friend looked upset and her mom looked sympathetic insisting it had just been a bad dream and I had rolled under the bed in my sleep. After Alicia’s mom left she looked a t me and said that she had warned me not to mess with the closet and that now he wouldn’t leave me alone. After a few minutes I went back to sleep and other than some weird whispering noises nothing else happened that night.

When I got up the next morning everyone else had already gone down to breakfast so I hurried and dressed and started toward the stairs that led downstairs to the kitchen. When I was about 6 or so feet from the top of the stairs something lifted me and threw me down the stairs. Luckily I didn’t get hurt but I was scared and rather angry , and I turned and glared at the top of the steps and snapped that he whoever he was, he was a coward and not scary at all and that he was not allowed to ever touch me ever again.

My friend who had run to check on me was looking at me with shock written all over her face, and she said that I should be more careful with what I say. After that we had a fairly normal day except I kept feeling like I was being watched no matter where I was or what I was doing. Then that night as I lay in the guest room I saw the shadowy shape of a guy in the corner of the room, and when I asked who was there it raised a finger to its lips to indicate that I should be quiet.

I fell silent out of confusion, and I heard him speak then. He was apparently impressed with my force of will something that according to him my friend had none of, and he said that he wanted to keep me. As he spoke it got harder and harder to breathe and I was terrified that I was going to lose the ability to breathe at all because of this thing, and I knew that it was him causing the issue. I don’t know how I did it I just know that I felt that if I didn’t yell and get out of there my fears were very likely going to come true and so I focused and forced myself to inhale deeply and I screamed for my friend.

Alicia and her parents all came running and when they turned on the light the guy vanished. Even though it was 3 am I made them call my mother to come get me and I never went back to Alicia’s house again. We had at least some contact until a year after this event we stopped talking because she kept bringing me messages from the thing in her house. She said he threatened to hurt her unless she gave me the messages. She kept saying that he told her that he wanted me to come back, that he wanted to keep me and that he thought that because of my strength I belonged with him. It made me sick to my stomach to hear, and I hope that whatever it is it can never leave her house to find me.