We were at Hawaii and driving to head to a local spot that my dad and his family used to visit when they were young. We had found it and had our fun, then headed back to the car once the sun started to set.
Nothing unusual happened until we began heading back to house.
Along the side of the road was a women. She had long brown hair, blue eyes, white shirt with a brown pair of shorts and barefoot. When she noticed us, she did the signature ‘I need a ride’ sign and we decided to pull over. “Where you headed?” My Mom asked, the women said “To a local beach area. Wanna collect some seashells for a present I’m gonna make.” My Mom nodded and motioned for me to open the door, which I did and the lady climbed in.
Read more “The Vanishing Hitchhiker”
This story is about what happened to my brother in the attic of my old house.
When I was 8 years old I lived in a long row of red brick terraced houses in the city of Manchester, UK. These houses were built during World War 2 and were one army barracks and home to soldiers and their families.
If you’ve ever watched the TV soap ‘Coronation Street’ you’ll know what type of houses I mean. The whole street looked like an L.S. Lowry painting.
The house was set over three floors, the living room, kitchen and bathroom on the first floor, my bedroom and my parents bedroom on the second, and the attic had been separated into two bedrooms for my brothers.
Read more “The Soldier in my Attic”
So, before I start I want to say that this is a story from two perspectives composed of me and my friend who’s like my brother, but lets catch up first. I wasn’t born in mexico but me, my mom and my friend Kale went to Mexico when I was around 3. so lets start.
I’m not sure how I remember this but I do. So me, my mom and my friend Kale who was 10 at the time went to mexico. Kale was very close to my family and when my mom needed to go down there she offered to take Kale seeing that me and him were like siblings. When we got there we checked into a hotel. Kale told me it was a very pretty house, It was like a Hawaii house but in mexico, right next to the beach he told me.
Now heres where Kale will provide a bit of information.
Read more “Tolly”
My family and I lived at a haunted property called ‘Gladstone villa’, in the former mining town of Bargoed, originally a village that became a market town that grew vibrantly after the opening of the towns colliery in 1903.
It became part of the Caerphilly county borough of the South Wales valleys, with many of the buildings and stores dating back to over one hundred years.
My maternal grandfather was William George Higgs, known as Bill to his family and friends and he was born in the nearby village of Markham in 1925 when his parents George and Edith moved there with the possibility of finding work.
Read more “Johnny the Ghost”
Let me start this story off by saying I grew up in the military. My dad was in the air force and my family moved around a lot. I have lived in many haunted homes before, and have experience a lot of paranormal activiti in my life. This story however is about the time my grandma was not happy with my dad being deployed.
Back in the Spring of 2008 my dad got orders for Iraq, and by the summer he had deployed. The night my dad left was a hard one for me. I wanted to stay up all night because I didn’t want to dream about my dad dying, but I had school in the morning so around 10 I forced myself to go to bed. This is where it gets weird.
That night my room was very cold mind you this was still summer in Missouri, and the nights do not get very cold. At first I thought the AC was just on full blast, but when I checked the thermostat it read 75. I brushed the cold off as it just being all in my head and put more blankets on my bed. Even with the extra blankets my room still fealt like a freezer. Around midnight things got out of hand.
Read more “Grandma is not happy”
I am a U.S. Marine and this is my story on the experiences iv had during my deployment in Okinawa, Japan from September 2016 to March 2017.
Now here’s a small history of the island itself : during the 2nd world war there was a VERY bloody battle between the U.S. And Japan on the island that lasted well over 80 days. During the battle there was an estimated 82,000 deaths on American and Japanese armed forces combined. And an estimate 150,000-300,000 Okinawan civilians were either killed, committed suicided or went missing due to hiding in the caves and underground passageways that run for miles hiding from the horrors of war.
Now I was staying at camp Schwab during the deployment. it’s located further up north of the island away from the rest of the bases down south where most of the battle sites are at.
So there’s two parts of this story at different locations. One was at camp Schwab and the other was at camp Hansen which is about a 20 minute drive south of Schwab. The first story happened to a friend of mine who was on the deployment with me but was sent to PMO to be a gaurd or whatever those guys do.
Read more “Haunted Okinawa”
In June of 2016, a couple of friends and I were trying to think of something exciting to do. We’re all 19 year old college students, and being back in our boring town away from all the parties wasn’t exactly exciting.
So one of my friends, we’ll call him James, pitched the idea of going to the Goatman’s bridge later that night. I instantly agreed. Our other friend who I’ll call Dave, was hesitant at first but eventually agreed.
If you grew up in the Dallas area you’ve probably heard of or been to Old Alton Bridge, otherwise known as the “Goatman’s” bridge. It’s a relatively small and old bridge in Corinth Texas. You can Google or even look up the bridge on YouTube and find some pretty creepy stuff about it. And the story on how it got the name “Goatman’s” bridge is creepy in of it self. Back in the early 20th century there was a local goat farmer named Oscar, and he was actually a really successful at that. The only problem is that he was African American. And the local chapter of the KKK, didn’t like that at all. So one day they kidnapped and took him to Old Alton Bridge, tied him in a noose and threw him off the side of the bridge. The only thing was, when they peered over to look at the body. Instead it was just an empty rope. They got spooked and went to his house and killed the rest of his family. Now people say the bridge is haunted by Oscar, or some sort of demon.
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When I was younger, I had an uncle, he was my mother’s half-brother, and he was this incredibly kind young man. I wasn’t around him much, only on the weekends, which is when I would visit my mother and grandmother.
He helped build the house that they lived in, it was a big house, and in the concrete on the back porch, my mother, my uncle Jacob, and my uncle Jason all three had put their hand prints and their names in the still-wet-cement (I wasn’t there that day). I was there for a lot of the construction, a tiny child playing on sand and dirt mounds, talking excitedly to them, asking questions, enthusiastically going on about how amazing it would be to walk up a spiral staircase.
When he wasn’t busy, he and I would play video games together, or we would watch cartoons. Sometimes he would even let me stay up late at night on the top bunk in the trailer watching cartoons, playing on my game-boy, the sort.
Read more “Home For The Holidays”
I want to start off saying that I’ve had many experiences in my life but this one is by far one of my top three strangest things ever. Some background into my story. I was 13 years old at the time and home alone. My grandmother was a Tupperware lady and had a demonstration she was going to do.
Around this time is when computers became more of a household thing and the internet was really becoming popular. It was good old dial up, which was always fun. Anyways a friend of mine was supposed to come over but for some reason that I can’t remember she couldn’t. I was used to being alone for a few hours at night so it was no big deal at first.
I was minding my own business playing on the computer, talking on AIM when suddenly I heard the TV in the living turn on. I was in my bedroom at the time and found this to be very odd since I was home alone. I walked out of my room and into the living room. Sure enough the TV was on. I simply shrugged my shoulders and turned it off. Then I heard another TV go on, in my bedroom.
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At the time, I was 21 years old. I was 3 months away from getting my bachelors degree From Penn State University. I was the average male type at the age of 21. Drinking, partying, all that stuff.
So, it was March 4th. I excused myself from class to use the restroom. Having my uncle as one of my teachers makes it easier to study and have access to other parts. I got an uneasy feeling going down the hallway. I started accelerating my speed at high rates swiftly. When I got to the door, I realized someone was in there laughing and tearing something up.
Growing up in Cincinnati, this was normal even in 8th and 9th grade. I walked in the restroom. There was nothing in there and the noise kept going on. I did my business, looking behind myself nearly the whole time. I felt my brain tangling and my nerves were racking up.
Read more “College Ghost Sightings”