the Ghost upstairs

This is a recent story of mine, happening just a few days ago, on March 16, 2019. It was a

Saturday and I was home alone, my parents were somewhere shopping and my siblings were at

our uncles house just down the road. I was in my room for a while watching tv and I heard

walking out in the living room area. I figured my sister came home so I ignored it. About half an

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The Black and White Children

I have had strange experiences my entire life. I don’t know if they are paranormal, or some kind of Monster/Urban legend; I really don’t know but I’ll leave it up to you to decide.

I was just like any other 8 year old. Running around playing with my friends, being outside was always my favorite after school activity. To describe the lay out I am from a small town in Canada. Like really small, less than three thousand people including a couple of cows. I lived in a very tiny, newly developed subdivision. There was me, a few neighbors, and a field behind the house that seemed to go on forever. Throughout our little town and acres of farms there were abandoned barns. I had seen them all over and they were nothing special to me. They were two stories (the top being where they held feed), all made out of wood that was now rotting and generally they had small bits of a rusty red coloured paint that was mostly chipped away. All of them were abandoned a long time ago. There was one of these barns near my house, in the back field, tucked away in a little grove of trees; it was tucked into a little C shape of trees and had an opening about the size of a car you could get through to it.

I was out in the field playing by myself and running through the tall grass as I often did when I saw the barn. Now I had walked passed this barn hundreds of times with my friends and family…it was different now. It lost all it’s colour. It wasn’t that same brown wooden colour with some red it was black and white. The trees surrounding it, usually vibrant and green, now seemed pale and lifeless. I knew my mom wouldn’t want me playing in the barn as it was falling apart, but this one seemed together. Like it was newly built. (It’s probably good to note this was a time where your children would run around anywhere and parents were just kinda like “hey come inside before dark” and my parents were at work during this time).

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The woodpecker

I live in Finland. My grandparents have a cabin at the edge of the woods that they pretty much live in during the summer. It’s surrounded by farmland on three sides and the forest starts at the fourth. It’s a neat, sparse forest with the only foliage being blueberries and lingonberries — very easy to navigate and full of little paths leading to where you might want to go. A typical forest for the area. There are railroad tracks that run through the forest a little less than a kilometre from where the cabin stands. Trains still go through from time to time, but it’s quite safe to cross and I have been playing in the forest since I was a little kid.
As you can probably imagine, animals are plenty there. It’s mostly hedgehogs, squirrels, and many, many different birds, though once a bear was reported to be roaming around. My father is a bit of an amateur ornithologist though, so the birds always drew our attention. Most of their names I don’t know in English, but they’re lovely to watch.
When I was 17 years old, I was there for… pretty much the whole summer. It was my summer job, in essence: helping my grandparents with the garden and just keeping them company to keep them from driving each other insane. It was simple and sometimes excruciatingly boring, but it was good for me. I think.
The summer was a warm one, with less mosquitoes than we usually get, and thus I amused myself by roaming the forest. When I was younger I was not allowed there unsupervised, so I liked to be able to decide where to go and being just with me, myself, and I for a while. I’ve always been a loner.
Eventually, mouth and fingers purple from eating too many blueberries, I found myself passing the train tracks, too lazy to find the crossing so I just clambered up the ledge and hopped over to the other side. I never went far with my family, so now I was eager to see what lay beyond that point. The furthest I’d ever gotten was a couple hundred metres away from the railroad. The forest was a bit wetter there and mushrooms grew wonderfully in the autumn.
I’d walked a good five hundred metres away when I heard a sound I’d never heard before. It was almost like a child was screaming or crying behind me.
My first reaction, silly as it may be, was to jump around as though someone was going to attack me right then and there. Of course, there was nobody there, and I soon understood the reason.
It was a woodpecker. There is a sub-species of woodpeckers in Finland that makes a sound just like a woman’s scream. It’s very rare and I was excited just by the thought of seeing this elusive bird. It is quite gorgeous: big and almost completely black, just with a red spot on its head.
The scream sounded again. It was hard to tell where exactly it was coming from: it sure sounded like it was on the ground, lower than I. But the forest can be tricky with the way sound travels. I decided it was probably back towards the cabin and took out my phone to snap a picture for my dad.
I listened to the scream that was growing in volume as I neared it. My grand aunt had told me a story of how God had turned a rude woman into this bird, cursing her to roam the forests crying and apologizing for her sins. It of course was just an explanation to why a bird would sound so much like a human being.
Still. The closer I got, the less convinced I was that it was a bird and not an actual child. The problem was, it sounded too much like a child to be a bird and too much like a bird to be a child. I tried to shut out the mounting anxiety I was feeling, but couldn’t. I’ve stated I am a loner — at that age I was also a terrible over-thinker. I really started to understand why the ancient Finns had started coming up with stories to explain the sound.
Another thing that disturbed me was that the pauses between the screams were becoming shorter and shorter so that soon it was pretty much screaming non-stop. And still, underneath that I was hearing a faint sound of the train approaching.
I doubled my pace. If it really was a bird the train would no doubt scare it away. I doubted a child would be on the tracks, even by themselves.
When I cleared the forest the sound of the train was quite close. The crossing was there in front of me, and there sat a three or four years old child.
She was naked, smack in the middle of the tracks, and screaming her bright red face off while tears were running down her cheeks. She didn’t sound sad — she sounded quite angry, actually. In the middle of a temper tantrum, maybe.
I was utterly frozen for a second, heart sinking down to my knees. Then I of course started forward with a yell and the intention of getting her off the darn tracks before the train crushed her. But she stopped me in my tracks with the next thing she did.
She quit crying suddenly, with no hiccups or anything like that, and stood up on shaky legs. She looked like she was going to bolt, probably down the tracks.
I learned it that day: when disaster strikes, I am one of those unfortunates who do nothing. Who need to be given exact orders on how to react to every frigging thing. Because I suddenly could not move, even though I knew that she was going to die if I didn’t. There was something so weird about her.
I could see the train coming fast. They must not have seen her: there was no attempt to slow down or stop. She fixed me with an absolutely furious look.
“Give me a name!” she screamed right before the train hit her and she… disappeared.
The train breezed past and I was left standing there, stunned and afraid.
There is a creature in Finnish folklore called liekkiö. It’s the soul of a baby birthed in secret and slain by its mother. They are said to wander the forests and scream, and occasionally lead people into danger like will-o-the-wisps. The way to get rid of them is to give them a name, or to dig up their little bodies and bury them properly. I used to think it’s yet another story to explain that stupid woodpecker, but now I’m not too sure anymore. I don’t know for sure, but I think the creature was trying to lure me in front of that train.
This encounter haunts me more than I care to admit. I don’t go to the tracks anymore and children in traffic give me unreasonable amounts of anxiety. It bothers me that if the kid had been just a kid, I would’ve let her die — it bothers me that had I tried to save her, I might be dead. I do my best not to dwell on it.

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America

The middle school I went to wasn’t exactly your typical middle school. It had been built in the forties, and by the time I went to middle school in the early 2000s, it was pretty much a dump. They kept telling us we’d be getting a new school soon, but it wasn’t until some rather drastic things happened that they finally followed through on that promise.

Not only was the place falling apart, it had a history. There’d been eight deaths on the the grounds since the forties, five students, one staff member and two visitors- all of them murders. There was also two unexplained deaths that happened my first year- more on those later.

When I came in as a sixth grader, the most recent death had been a seventeen-year-old former student named America- a hippie name for a hippie girl. America was strange. She didn’t have any sort of electronics, which wasn’t odd in the early 2000s, but it was more than that- she reportedly hated any sort of technology with a burning passion. Please  that my information about what she was like might not be accurate- I’m just repeating what I’ve heard. However, I’d bet my life most of it was true. Apparently she was always reading something, and she had a thing for old romances- Wuthering Heights, Pride and Prejudice, the like. She practically lived in the library. And she dressed like your typical hippie- flowing skirts, combat boots, flower crowns in her hair.

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Ghost in the Girls bathroom

First of all , I’ve had weird encounters with the paranormal, the island I’m from is haunted so it doesn’t really scare me .

I’ve watched a small plastic ball bounce down each stair and i just looked at it.

But this one was by far the scariest encounter I’ve ever had.

I went to school in a rural town, quite old. So I was no stranger to seeing things out of the corner of my eye
So one day , when I was about 8 , I was in elementary school, and the school board was doing renovations to the school, and on this particular day , I went into the girls washroom , keeping in mind that i never went into public bathrooms because of all the ghost stories we where told that revolved around the K-3 grade bathrooms, both boys and girls, like the bloody mary stories and the candyman stories. It was scary when you hear the stories all the time .
I was washing my hands and I heard something, so naturally I looked behind me, glancing at the stalls . I took a good sized breath and gathered my courage to ask if anyone was there but all that came out was a quiet squeak. I turned back to wash my hands and I heard the same thing, it was the most godawful, creepiest laughter I’ve ever heard . And it sounded close , I jumped and looked around , checking to see if it was one of the other girls , no one was there. So I went to the paper towel and began to dry my hands when I heard that same horror movie laughter again , and the lights in the bathroom went out. Needless to say I practically flew out of that bathroom and never used it again .

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Kickapoo Meadows

My story might be different than some as I’m new to darkness prevails as a good friend of mine referred me. So to start out I’m just going say that growing up my experience with any paranormal happenings were minimal like I’ve seen only two human apparitions in my lifetime but I’ve seen plenty animal spirits which ties in with the title of my story.

You see I grew up in a small town called Dixmoor, Illinois on the south side suburbs of Chicago. For the most part Dixmoor was and still is a quiet small town with very little happenings and very very little haunts at least from my perspective. There are abandoned houses that haven’t been knocked down and reclaimed by nature that give off a haunted vibe.

However there are two places that are for sure haunted. An old abandoned steel mill factory off 144th and Wood street. Which is right across from where Al Capone buried his victims, supposedly. Me and my friends have ventured on the grounds of the old steel mill but haven’t ventured too far in because there aespcially of deep holes one can fall into as well as it being inhabited by a pack of stray dogs, but that’s a story for another day.

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The shadow figure opposite my bed

For some background I am a 14 year old female, I live in England and have grown up in a house that was built on the land of an old mental asylum. So throughout my life I’ve had many creepy things happen to me, my family and people that just come around and visit. But personally this is the creepiest thing that has happened to me in my house.

It was around July/August 2018, I can’t remmeber the exact time I just know it was in summer, it was just a normal night with me staying up on my phone until the early hours of morning, you know how it is. Up until about a year ago I was never able to sleep in the dark so it was kind of a new thing to me since I’ve always had a night light. So at about 2am I turned of my light and went to sleep.

Then at around 4/5am, once again I can’t remember the exact time, and I woke up to something but I didn’t know what. I looked around letting my eyes adjust to the darkness and I know it sounds so cliché but if you experience it you will know it’s an actual feeling but I genuinely felt like I was being watched and I was so on edge but it was pitch black in my room so I couldn’t see anything.

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It wasn’t a leaf

A weird hobby my friend got me into is tunneling, the act of exploring storm drain tunnels, and the area where I live has lots of them. Quite a bit of odd stuff happens whenever we go but this particular story is the creepiest and why we made a frequent habit of “back checks”.

It happened a year and a half ago as of now. It was winter break, well almost actually. It was our last day of school and after lunch, we had no more final exams to take but the school wanted us to stick around for the remainder of the day. We didn’t really care so we just ditched. My friend who I’ll call Danny was taking me and my other friend who I’ll call Terry, to a tunnel that wasn’t terribly far away from the school. Danny had a little experience tunneling but Terry and I had never been before. I was a little nervous but we had already started walking so I couldn’t back out now. We went to a gas station to get snacks and drinks, wandered around a bit trying to find the place, then we finally arrived at the place.

I only brought a small flashlight with me since it was all I could get my hands on, but Danny brought some cheap Walmart flashlights and headlamps for us. When I stepped into the tunnel my fear melted away, it was exciting to be exploring a new place. I walked further in taking the lead and breaking away a bit from Danny and Terry. The entrance was covered with graffiti, it stretched all around and no spot was left empty. I slowed down a bit so Terry and Danny could catch up. I was fine at first but my fear started to creep back up on me. It was mostly the cars that got to me, you could hear the echos of tires running over grates echo throughout the tunnel and it was impossible to tell where they came from and how far they were. It was a creepy ambiance that got in your head and it combined with the darkness that our cheap flashlights barely cut through to make the environment seem alien and oppressive. Danny wanted to lead and Terry didn’t care so I happily sandwiched myself into the middle as I thought it was safer.

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Am I going Insane?

When I’m writing this I am a 17-year-old girl, so I’ll just dive into the story. I was born January 20, 2002 (I don’t know if I can say this in the post) but this happened 3 days before I was born.
My mom woke up in the middle of the night unable to move or speak, at the foot of the bed stood a looming dark figure. My mom couldn’t wake my dad up because she couldn’t move, all she could do was lay there motionless, she watched as the figure went from the foot of the bed to right next to her.
My mom watched in horror as the shadowy creature reached over at touched her pregnant stomach, it’s hand went through her body. My mom told me that she felt me kicking aggressively before calming down, the shadowy figure disappeared as soon as I stopped kicking.
Fast forward 3 days, my mom was taken to the hospital because apparently, my heart would stop beating and then start beating again this kept happening during one of her checkups. The doctors decided that an emergency C-section was necessary.
After I was born my parents noticed things about me that seemed unnatural, I kept saying that there was something or someone always beside me or following me. I would talk to myself over and over again, my parents thought that I was just talking to my imaginary friend.
My parents got concerned when I kept talking to myself at the age of 6, during this time I was going through some really traumatizing stuff. I began seeing things in the dark, figures that would tower over my body or in my line of sight.
The shadows began to move from only being visible during the night to show themselves in the day, they’re getting bolder now. I don’t know what to do anymore, I thought it couldn’t get any worse. I couldn’t have been any wronger, while the shadow figure began getting bolder I got another thing to worry about. I have something or someone following me, I think it’s a ghost.
At first, I wouldn’t mind that a ghost was following me but it was being aggressive, I would wake up with bruises and scratches all over my body.
In my room things would fall down or be thrown across the room, I had gotten used to the bruises and scratches (which isn’t good).
The following days the shadows were starting to get out of control, they were popping up and running across from me. I can’t step into any church or anything religious because I feel like someone is suffocating me, I’ve had multiple panic attacks during church, so that’s something.
Not only have I had to deal with these Shadows, but I’ve also had to deal with ghosts. I know that sounds weird, I know I sound crazy but hear me out.
When I was 13 I started waking up with scratches and bruises all over my body, I thought I was the cause of the scratching so I trimmed my nails but that wasn’t it.
The scars kept appearing, I would feel someone pull on my hair, pinch me, and even push me causing me to almost get hit by a car, all this went on for almost a year, I’ll call this ghost Hook.
Hook kept messing with me, they did whatever they could to make my life hell that was until one day. I was now 16, I woke up in the middle of the night to what seemed like someone had jumped onto my bed beside me which is impossible because my bed is pushed against the wall, I sleep on the side that isn’t facing the wall.
If someone wanted to jump on my bed they would have to jump on top of me. Whoever had landed on my bed had begun wrestling (?) with someone else, it got to the point where I got too scared that I ended up sleeping in my parents’ room.
The next morning when I went back into my room it was a terrible mess, my bed sheets had fallen off, my posters had fallen down, and things were flown across the room. I was surprised my family didn’t wake up to all the ruckus.
After that night Hook had vanished, I was no longer being pushed pinched or getting my hair pulled, Hook was gone. I thought that finally, I was just going to have to deal with the Shadows, that was stupid of me to think.
The day I noticed my second ghost was when I was in the auditorium after my school had gotten done with an assembly, I have this weird fear of stairs and elevators so I’m usually the last one out, as I was up to the stairs I felt someone’s body hit my own shoulder.
I was a short girl at that time, 4 feet 11 ½ inches to be exact, but I’ve grown I’m a big girl now, 5 feet 1 inch to be exact.
Anyway, this person bumped into me since they were going down the stairs (running might I add which is so unsafe) while I was going up the stairs. Due to their size, they were roughly 6’ 1’ so they were considerably taller than me, I wasn’t strong enough to hold onto the railing so I started falling back. The person didn’t even notice that I was falling, as I was falling I realized that I had stopped falling.
I thought the person had realized what happened and they came back to help me but when I looked back I saw that I was being supported by something I couldn’t see. I was completely shocked, I couldn’t move or make a sound.
I felt the thing place me back onto my feet and I felt it pat my hair and then it vanished? I don’t know what happened, I just felt like whatever the presence was they were gone.
I told my friends and they didn’t believe me, I don’t blame them because I didn’t believe myself. We believed that it was a one-time thing, but we were wrong.
This entity, who I named Peter since something told me that was their name. Peter isn’t as active today as he was a while ago. There were nights when I would cry myself to sleep but I would feel someone hug me and pull me close, the hugs always felt so pleasant and warm in a way.
I’m a very clumsy, forgetful, and no sense of direction girl. I’m always misplacing things and forgetting where I put things but whenever I do misplace things I always end up finding them in plain sight.
I get lost a lot since my sense of direction of worse than anyone I’ve ever met, every time I got lost I would feel someone grabbing my hand or a gentle push towards a direction which always resulted in me finding my way home.
Another thing that happens to me is something that I’ve never told anyone, its nothing serious but I guess it’s cute? So I have something called Misophonia which is literally “hatred of sound”, was proposed in 2000 as a condition in which negative emotions, thoughts, and physical reactions are triggered by specific sounds.
I get triggered by a lot of noises some are: pencil tapping, chair squeaking, chewing, sighing, heavy breathing, crunching, keyboard tapping, and door knocking, just to name a few. Every time I hear a door knocking I got into a bit of a panic, I have a hard time in my day to day life.
Every time I go into a panic my mind goes into fight or flight mode. I sometimes end up curled into a ball crying, every time this happens I always feel someone hugging me and then I feel something touching my forehead.
I don’t know if I’m just insane or mentally ill, why is Peter following me? Should I be worried? I don’t know what to do, Peter has been as active in the last couple of months. What do you guys think is going on? Can you tell me what I should do, I need help.

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The place had fresh paint

All my life I have been told by my papa that I have the family gift, like him and his mom before him. It had skipped my mom and her sisters for the most part, but it hit me and my two older brothers hard. You see, we would often talk to people that nobody else could see; know things that we shouldn’t know. I have many stories like this and will likely share them all some day, but today I would like to tell you all about the one of the many places I grow up, and the other residents that my mom couldn’t see.

I was about 7 years old when we moved again. I didn’t care too much, as my lost house and school were terrible for various reasons. We moved into a little townhouse complex where four residents would share a hallways and all the houses are connected so the neighbourhood was an unending square, broken only where a house was left out for a walkway, drainage, or the parking and driveways. There were a lot of families like my own; low income or single parent living here because it was cheap and close to schools, though not really safe or nice. It was a bad part of town with a lot of violence and drug activity but it was home to us for four years. During this time we lived in to different units for two years each. They shared the same hallway but faced opposite each other in this hall. This is important to note because while we were in the second place, we didn’t have any of these weird occurrences.

On the first night we moved in, I felt something was off as did my brothers. But we put it up to moving into a new place and went to bed. I was never a good sleeper as a child, often staying up until 3 or 4 am if you didn’t catch me. So I was awake quietly watching tv on the old unit in my room (I think I was watching a Disney movie on VHS) when I started to hear light crying. I paused the movie to listen. Like any child who came from a home of domestic violence will tell you; crying is never good and I was worried it was my at that time stepfather starting crap with my mom or brothers. But I didn’t recognize the voice of this crying and it was t coming from my shared wall with my neighbor but rather the corner next to my tv.

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