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 Landlady

The story I’m about to tell you might sound like a campfire tale…some twist on an urban legend or something…at least, that’s how it seems whenever I think about it, or tell the story to someone. I can assure you, however, that it is NOT. It happened to me around 16 or 17 years ago, when I was about 18 or 19 (I can’t remember exactly).

I was staying with a friend of mine at his apartment, which is in a small, old building in the downtown area of the small town where I grew up. Next door was a slightly larger, but even older apartment building, and both were owned and operated by the same people.

So one day my friend had to take his rent money to his landlady, who lived in the building next door, and he asked me to join him (I can’t remember why…perhaps he just wanted to introduce me to her??)…so I did.

The building she lived in was three stories, with small businesses on the ground level, and apartments on the upper levels. Her apartment was easy to find, because it was the first door on the right as you enter the second floor (in other words, the first apartment you see when entering the residential portion of the building), and there was I sign on the door that read “Manager”.

My friend knocked on the door, and we were greeted by an older man…probably in his 60’s. He was thin, maybe 5’9”, balding gray hair, and somewhat gaunt-looking…like he’d worked hard for too many years, and it had taken its toll. Apparently, he was a close friend of the landlady, and also worked as a maintenance man in the building.

Anyway…we were invited in and shown to the living room, where the landlady greeted us, and asked us to sit. She was a fairly large woman, with short, whitish-blonde hair, pale skin, and dark circles under her eyes. She seemed quite healthy…but there was something “sickly” about her face. I remember thinking it rather strange that she looked so ill, but spoke and moved like someone in perfect health.

The apartment itself was clean, though somewhat cluttered…the furnishings were clearly old, but still in good condition…and the place was decorated with lots of antiques and knick-knacks…all of which appeared a little dusty…as if the place hadn’t been cleaned or even lived in for awhile. Though I couldn’t determine exactly WHY, something about the atmosphere there just felt “off”.

Despite all of this, the landlady was a friendly woman, and we all chatted for about 20 minutes after my friend gave her his rent money…though I can’t recall what we talked about…then we left, and the whole thing began to fade from my memory…for awhile.

Approximately 1 year later…after my friend had moved away, and we’d lost touch…I was looking for an apartment, and remembered those buildings and the pleasant conversation I’d had with the landlady, and I decided to go there and find out if she had any apartments for rent.

I remembered which apartment she lived in, because, like I said before, it was the first one on the right when you enter the second floor…pretty easy to remember. When I got there, however, there was no “Manager” sign on the door. I knocked anyway, and got no answer. I waited a moment, then knocked again…still, nothing. I thought perhaps she was out, or had moved, so I decided to walk around and see if there was a “Manager” sign on any of the other doors.

As I made my way down the hall, I noticed an open door to an apartment that appeared empty, and there was a woman inside vacuuming. I figured she might know where the landlady was, so I knocked on the open door and waved as the woman looked up at me. She turned off the vacuum, walked to the door and pleasantly asked, “can I help you with something?”

I remember thinking immediately that this woman looked like a much younger, much smaller version of the landlady. She, too, had short, blonde hair, cut in much the same style as the landlady’s had been. She looked healthier, though…and not just because she was thin, where the landlady had been quite large…but her complexion was simply healthier-looking.

I explained to her that I was looking for the landlady, because I was interested in possibly renting an apartment. She then informed me that SHE is the landlady, and that the apartment we were currently standing in the doorway of, was the only apartment available. This didn’t really phase me…I mean, it had been about a year, and I figured the building was simply under new management.

She showed me around the apartment, and we spoke for a minute about what I needed to do to apply…and though I could’ve just ended the conversation there…I for some reason felt compelled to ask about the previous landlady…the one I’d met a year ago.

At this, the woman looked confused. “I’ve managed this building for over four years”, she said. Now was confused. Though there was a resemblance, there was NO WAY this was the woman I’d met before. She was too young. So I told her that I’d visited the landlady a year ago, and pointed-out her apartment. She assured me that wasn’t possible. She then informed me that had once been her mothers’ apartment…and her mother had indeed been the landlady…but she’d passed away nearly 5 years ago.

At this point, I think we BOTH felt a chill run up our spines. So I described the woman I’d met a year before, AND the old man who had been at her apartment. She told me I was describing her mother perfectly, and the man who had been her friend, too…but BOTH had been dead for quite some time. Ok…now we were both freaking out a little. So I went on to describe the apartment…and again, she told me I was describing her mothers’ apartment in perfect detail.

I spent a lot of time going over the whole thing in my head after that…but all these years later, I STILL can’t think of any logical explanation. There’s no way I misjudged the amount of time that had passed. It had only been 1 year…not 5. Hell, had it been 5 years, I would’ve been like 14 or 15 when I met the landlady, and I certainly had no friends who lived on their own at that age. I also don’t believe the woman was lying or just messing with me. Her reactions were genuine, and she even became visibly emotional once she realized that I’d likely encountered her mother’s spirit. I’ve come to learn that nothing in this world is certain…and it’s possible that reality itself is just an illusion…so I can’t say with any certainty that I encountered any “lost souls”, “spirits”, or some other paranormal phenomena…but I DO KNOW that I can’t explain this experience. Eerie as it was, though, it never frightened me. I mean…I probably won’t ever rent an apartment in that building…but I wouldn’t be opposed to visiting it again…if only to see what strange or unbelievable things may occur.

 

 

Haunted Ouija Board

I was a teenager when this happened, but I can honestly say I remember it like it happened just a few hours ago. My friend, Bailey and I were staying at her house for the weekend. It just happened to be the weekend that her mother decided to do some spring cleaning and clean out their spare bedroom. As teenagers Bailey and I of course were doing more playing with the things we found than cleaning.

Bailey pulled a box out of the closet and held it up, asking her mother what was inside. Her mother snatched the box out of her hands and told her it was a Ouija Board that her aunt had brought home when she lived there. We shrugged it off and went on with our day. Later that night her dad decided we needed to burn some of the things that had been thrown out. The fire was small and burning normally until her mother threw the Ouija Board in it.

What happened next is something I can only describe as unexplainable. The flames of the fire turned blue and the fire flamed up much higher than before. We stood there looking at each other, all a bit shaken but also glad that it was gone. Eventually the fire burned down and we all settled in for bed. Bailey and I were in the den watching a movie when we heard it, something rattling inside one of the boxes that was to go back into storage.

Thinking her cat had climbed inside and become stuck, Bailey opened the box and immediatley screamed a scream that could only have been matched if a man had jumped out of the box with a knife. I ran over to her and peered into the box  myself and found the Ouija Board from earlier, alone in the box. Her parents ran in to find Bailey and I still staring into the box trying to wrap our minds around what we were seeing.

It was the middle of the night but her dad grabbed the box and threw it outside. He proceeded to spray it with lighter fluid from the nearby grill and light it on fire. The flame was the same strange blue color and this time there was an odd noise that came from it. Almost like a hissing mixed with quiet screaming. When the fire had died down there was nothing but a pile of ash and embers.

To my knowledge the Ouija Board has not made another appearance since, but even know, all these years later I still get chills thinking about it. Ouija  boards are nothing to play with, and knowing what I know now, it terrifies me to think that some people play with them as if they are a toy.

Strange Events in Target

This story happened at target last week in the city where I live. Strange things kept happening in target.

At 10:00 am, the power went out at target for 30 minutes. When the power was out, there was a dragon. The dragon kept flying around the store and shooting fire. The fire fighters came to the rescue. They also kept shooting the dragon. After that, the power was back on and the dragon died. Then they had to remove the dragon.

At 11:00 am, the power went out for 30 minutes again. Things kept falling and other stuff kept knocking down. When the power was back on, the people from target found out that there were flying humanoids. The flying humanoids kept trying to grab people and knocked things down again. So the police officers came and shot all the flying humanoids. So the people from target including the police officers and the fire fighters was wondering why strange things kept happening the same day.

At 12:00 pm, the power went out for 30 minutes again. When the power was out, everyone in target kept hearing ceilings breaking down. When the power was back on, everyone in target found out there were trolls and ghouls pukwedgies coming from the ceiling. So everyone was under attack and the police officers fought the trolls and ghouls and pukwedgies. Everyone in target was wondering why strange things kept happening every 30 minutes to an hour later the same day.

At 1:00 pm, nothing strange happened and the power didn’t go out again.So everyone in target was wondering when was the strange event going to happen again and when was the power going to be out again.

At 2:00 pm, the power didn’t go out again but the carts moved by themselves and pushed the customers and all the groceries flew off all the carts and the carts that had groceries in them moved by themselves and pushed the customers. So the customers had to put their groceries back to the carts. Everyone in target was wondering when was the power going to be out next time.

Nothing strange happened again until 5:00 pm and the power didn’t go out again until 5:00 pm.

At 5:00 pm, the power went out for 30 minutes again. When the power was out, everyone in target kept hearing things move. When the power was back on, everyone in target found out half of the stuff from target disappeared.

At 6:00 pm, the power didn’t go but all the customers floated in the air and banged the ceilings. The certain customers stopped shopping after that and the other customers continued shopping as fast as they could.

At 7:00 pm, target wasn’t busy at all. At 7:00 pm, the power didn’t go out again but the carts moved by themselves again and everything fell off the shelves and everything target was selling was thrown by themselves and all the employees from target and the fire fighters and police officers were floating in the air and banged the ceilings. After that they decided to close target permanently when target closes.

At 7:30 pm, the power went out again and one of the employee from target was about to use the circuit breaker to turn the power back on but the wires that were connected to the circuit breaker were cut.

So everyone in target decided to close target permanently immediately after that. So they decided to build another target somewhere else. They wondered why strange things kept happening the same day. Later that day, the strange events in target were shown in the news.

Haunted Nightclub

I know a lot of people don’t believe in ghosts, and that’s completely fine! I’m just going to put it out there that I genuinely believe spirits and demons and the like do exist.

Last year, before working at my current place of work, I was working part-time at a Welsh nightclub in the centre of Cardiff. Lots of people used to come in asking if it was haunted and everyone would joke around saying it was. It was a creepy old building, and I’m pretty sure that in the 80s the same building caught on fire. I’m not 100% if anyone was killed, but still, it’s creepy to think of the energy and the emotions the people stuck in the building at the time felt. So sure, the building was creepy and had some really weird and spooky events take place before, but did that really mean it was haunted?

Some time after working there, it didn’t seem as creepy as it once had. On my breaks I used to sit in the basement and read, I’d find dark corners and just sit and take that much needed time to calm down after working nonstop for 5 or more hours. The nightclub no longer seemed haunted to me. But I was so, so, so wrong.

I remember one fairly quiet night I was restocking the drinks and refilling the ice buckets, so that meant going back and forth to the basement and spending the majority of my time just being downstairs in general. I remember I was feeling good about myself. People were being polite, no one was shouting at us, we were having such a lovely night and we rarely had nights like those. So when my co-worker came upstairs saying that the basement gave him weird vibes that night, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. I just laughed it off and told him it was close to Halloween and he’d been watching too many episodes of Ghost Adventures. He swore it was something different that night, but doesn’t everyone say that when they get scared?

So by the time came for me to restock and go down to the basement, I almost completely forgot about what my co-worker had said earlier that evening. I was refilling the ice buckets and had two huge buckets in my hands, so I wasn’t really focusing on anything other than ‘just don’t drop the buckets, don’t drop the buckets’. The basement in the nightclub was separated into two halves. The main part was where all the barrels, bottles and other drinks were kept. It was a large and cool room so everything was kept chilled. We also used to wash the bottle bins/ buckets out every night in that room as there was a huge drain in the middle of the room with a hose. So it was a fairly large space that a lot of us spent a lot of time in. The second half was longer but thinner at the sides. This is where we had the ice machines, decorations for Christmas, Halloween, extra chairs, cleaning products and so on. Towards the end of the room, it was always darker than it should have been. People apparently saw movement and even saw a pair of tiny feet walking across the room. It was so cluttered and dark in that room, it honestly could have been anything. But after my experience this one night, I honestly believe it was more than likely what they said it was.

Anyway, back to the story. I entered the main part of the basement and already something felt weird. Usually you can hear the music and people dancing from the floor above, but this night, I heard nothing. Instead I swore I heard whispering. I thought it must be someone having a cheeky phone call on shift so I wondered around the basement to check for anyone. But surprise, surprise, no one was there. This really wigged me out because a) I swear I heard someone whispering and b) I know what whispering sounds like and that was it. To try not scare myself too much, I just told myself I was tired even though it mustn’t have been that late in the evening. So I carried on doing what I had to do and went to the other part of the basement for the ice. As soon as I walked into that room, I felt weird. By that I mean I felt anxious, I was constantly looking over my shoulder as if someone was watching me. I started to feel like something bad was going to happen. I felt cold on my insides which is pretty hard to describe. It felt like my blood had turned to ice and that it was slowly pumping through my body. My arms had gone heavy and I just about finished filling the first bucket before I had the sudden feeling that I had to get out of that room.

I picked up the bucket and headed straight for the door. My heart was racing, and I could feel a panic attack coming on. And that was weird. I was in my element there, I felt comfortable, I love live music, I enjoyed helping and talking to people, why was I having a panic attack on a really nice quiet night?! As soon as I got to the door to enter the main part of the basement, it wouldn’t open. I was stuck in this room, about to have a nervous breakdown. I pushed it so hard my hands were red. It felt like someone was leaning up against the door as a joke. By now I could hear the whispering again and I just figured it was someone being an arse and trying to scare me. So I called out ‘Open the door you knob, I’m flipping freezing in here!’- but still nothing happened. I heard some giggling, and just thought that maybe someone was being a bigger arse than I originally thought. It felt like a few minutes passed and by then I still couldn’t open the door. I picked up the bucket of ice, and charged straight at the door with my shoulder at the ready. I must have looked like something straight out of a comedy movie. And lo and behold, the door opened. As soon as I got into the main part of the basement my anxiety eased noticeably, but not entirely.

I was now jogging straight to the exist. I was not going to stay in that basement longer than needed. Now here’s where the really creepy thing happens. Just before I left the room, I felt breath on the back of my neck, and a quiet female voice whisper ‘bye bye Lily’. From then it kind of echoed into a few different voices. By now I was utterly convinced I was going crazy and that I’d lost the plot entirely. I could have sworn that the door leading to the second part of the basement was even beginning to open as I left the basement. But that would have been impossible. Right?

As soon as I was back upstairs, surrounded by people, my anxiety had gone, I could clearly hear the music, the dancing, the chatting, the general sounds you’d hear at a bar. Everything came back all at once. I told my supervisor that I wasn’t going to go back down there alone after what had happened. He tried to tell me that it was probably the pumps making noises that I mistook for whispering. But since when did pumps clearly say ‘bye bye Lily’?! He also argued that the door in the basement was old, so of course it would stick now and then. But why would it suddenly stick and then go back to being normal after a few minutes? Why would I suddenly start to feel weird and sick in the place where I used to spend the majority of my breaks? It didn’t make sense to me. He then told me that the building was haunted but I was probably just tired and had an over active imagination.

But here’s the thing, this was the first of many incidents that happened in that building to make me completely and utterly convinced that it was haunted, and that spirit and demons exist. But those are stories for another time. This incident left me terrified of the second part of the basement. I wouldn’t even go in there without a friend or my supervisor with me. After a while, a lot of people started complaining of feeling sick down there and having bad anxiety in that room. I can’t tell you what it’s like now, but I have a feeling it’s exactly the same as it always has been. Shadows that are meant to be unmoving slowly changing positions, the sound of footsteps echoing from the walls, people’s names being called, maybe someone has actually seen something solid in that room. Maybe these spirits were kind yet playful. Or maybe they were more than just spirits… Either way, I can tell you guys that I was beyond scared and thankfully, I never have to go down there again