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.

Gadsden Poltergeist

I don’t claim to be a great writer so bare with me. The year was 2015, my wife and I had just moved into a new house, well, it was new to us. It was a 3 bedroom, we stayed locked in the bedroom next to the kitchen, it was cold and we only had a small electric heater, the very reason we stayed in one room all the time.

We were laying in bed one night watching t.v, out of nowhere it sounded like everything in the house was been thrown around. I’m thinking what the hell, after I mustard up some nerve I decided to check it out.

I open my door, slowly step out and proceed to creep down the hallway. Halfway down the hall it suddenly stops. I check every room and everything appears normal. Okay, guess we both are going crazy i thought to myself.

I then went back to my room and got back in bed for more t.v., as soon as my mind calmed the noise started back, only louder this time. It lasted all night.

When I would be at work and my wife home alone she would feel as if she were being followed everywhere. She would hear someone walking back and forth in the hallway. A few times it had gotten so bad, she would call me at work and beg me to come home and I would.

Needless to say we got out of that house. I have more stories dating back to my childhood in the 80’s up until now. I will share those if this is accepted. Thank for reading or listening, which ever your doing.

The Lady in Pink

This story isn’t creepy, per se, but it did happen in the middle of the day, in a brightly lit shop, right on a main road. So, it’s odd more than anything.

I work for a small business in a little suburb in Sydney, Australia. We’re pretty friendly with all our customer and I can recognise a lot of them by face, if not name.

Just to give you a quick layout: when you walk in, there’s an open area where we set up small displays. On the the immediate left, tucked into a sort of alcove, is a floor to ceiling display, with products stacked on shelves, and then a back to front L-shaped counter, with the bottom of the L making up one ‘wall’ of the alcove. There’s four aisles, and a smoothie/juice bar tucked up the back, which has a view of the counter and the front of the shop.

The other main feature, which is well know around town, is our absolute piece of crap front door. Half of the entire frontage of our shop is a huge glass windows, with the door built into this. It’s this loud, heavy, sliding thing that almost everyone slides the wrong way, and when it catches, it makes a loud bang that can be rather distracting when you’re working.

So, as I mentioned, it’s a sunny day, early afternoon, and I’m working the front counter, while my two other staff are at the smoothie/juice bar, sorting out produce. Aside from the staff, there’s only one other customer in the shop, and I’m having a pretty relaxing time sorting out some computer work.

I’m tapping away when a customer I know pretty well, who’ll I’ll call Dani, walks into the shop, slamming the door in the wrong direction, before rolling it noisily the right way, as per normal. I come out from behind the counter to have a catch-up, as I haven’t seen her since she went on holidays a month ago.

I’m about five minutes into a chat with Dani when I notice the door open over her shoulder, and a woman walks in. Normally, even when I’m busy with another customer, I’ll excuse myself for a moment just to say, “Hello!” and give a smile, so the customer knows I’ve seen them. Good customer service and all that. I have a second to notice this woman is middle age, short, blonde brown hair and is wearing a bright pink cardigan before she ducks into the alcove, out of sight. There’s stuff displayed on lower shelves, so that’s not odd, but she’s in so fast I don’t have time to say anything.

Dani and I chat for a couple more seconds before I excuse myself and while she walks to the smoothie bar at the back, I look into the alcove.

“Hello! Can I-”

There’s no one there.

Puzzled, I take a quick look up each of the aisles, before making my way up and down, stopping to ask our other customer if she’s seen a lady in a pink cardigan. She says no.

I walk to the juice bar and ask the other staff, and Dani, if the lady in the pink cardigan came up this way. Both of the other staff shake their heads and Dani gives me an odd look.

“What lady?” she asks.

“The one who came in after you.”

She shakes her head. “No-one followed me in. I didn’t hear the stupid door open.”

There is nowhere to hide in this shop and besides, I had full view of the alcove and the door over Dani’s shoulder; I would’ve seen her leave.

It gets stranger. When I describe the lady in what detail I had, Dani looks shocked. Apparently, a friend of her’s had died several days earlier and this friend was rather fond of wearing a bright pink cardigan.

 

 

 

Did You Hear That?

Growing up as a child to whom  lost her father to a car accident when she was only a baby, I have always been interested in the paranormal.

Because of this fact, I used to be scared of my shadow and a bit afraid of the dark.  I grew up timid and afraid of things that go bump in the night and always had unexplained things happen. As a child I had things happen to me that no child should have to endure. That is another story altogether though. I will jump ahead to my third marriage, and the house we currently live in.

When my husband and I moved into this house, my oldest daughter was 19 years old. She kept telling us that she was hearing noises, things were moving, and her radio would change stations by itself.

To give a bit of the background after my original mentality of being afraid of the dark, in 2001, I went to the police academy and became one of the very few police officers that were female on my force.

I say that to tell you that I was no longer afraid of things that were unseen because I had seen plenty of scary things happen that I could see.  So when my oldest daughter told us these things were happening I assumed she was just being her usual dramatic self.

My husband, I ,  and my oldest daughter we’re getting ready to leave our home to go eat when my daughter stopped us before we left the front door and asked us, “Did you here that?”   I asked her, “Hear what?”

She told us it was happening again. She said that the radio had come on by itself again. I gave her a smirky look and asked her to stop being dramatic. By the look on her face though my husband  and I decided to humor her and check it out.

Now, our house has a very large staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms, her bedroom was a very small bedroom at the end of the top of the staircase.  My husband lead the both of us up the stairs, without a flashlight, and as soon as we got to the top of the stairs the radio shut off. At this time I have to admit I was a bit spooked.

Yet, I was still explaining it away in my mind. When we entered her bedroom we stood in front of the iPod home to which she claimed was coming on and going off by itself. When my husband stood in front of  the radio, I was directly behind him and my daughter was on my left side.

As soon as he stood in front of the radio, it proceeded to blair classical music in front of our eyes!

He slung his arm to move me out of the way to race down the stairs and we were both trailing after him. After that instance I wasn’t skeptical anymore about the things she was telling me. I do believe in demons and such, due to the fact that I am a born-again Christian.

Even though I believe in demons, I have no explanation for what happened that night. None of us dabble in any kind of witchcraft or the such.

Needless to say after this instance, I prayed along with my husband through the whole home, and the radio never behaved that way again. I currently live in this home and I am not afraid of it at all!  I do still have that iPod home, but it is unplugged and beside my bed.