This is just one of the many stories I have had in my old child hood home but needless to say it was one of the worst.
Ever since I was born we had lived in this old house on the outskirts of my little village, near this area I had plenty of incounters with skinwalkers and other worldly things but you would think atleast you would be safe in your own home right?…. wrong.
Ever since I was a kid me and my family would have plenty of weard things happen you o us, such as finding the car keys in the basement even tho my dad left them in the kitchen, or the house land line phones randomly ring and when we picked up no one would answer back, you would think oh that’s probably just prank callers and clumsy behaviour but the thing is, no one and I mean no one ever goes in the basement and why would someone prank call pur house over 5 times a week, just to weard.
Anyways this little story happend when I was around 8 years old my parents went on a little “no kids holiday” and hired a babysitter to look after us, they soon packed up for a three day little “business” trip and headed off kisses me my younger sister and my older brother goodbye.
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.
After moving out of my last house I lived in. I moved to a nice house opposite from that house was in my city. The first house I lived in was haunted as that story was previously shared.
Moving into the new house back in 2012 I got a large bedroom and there were some odd occourances like footsteps being heard upstairs that one time that even woke up my grandma from her nap on the couch. However nothing really occurred that was paranormal……until the talks of moving happened a few years later when someone was watching me. I can feel this presence and unlike in the first house it did not feel evil and wanted us out, rather, it enjoyed the company of me and me moving made it feel upset.
Nothing extremely unusual happened until my dad bought a new house back in 2016, one of the things that happened was in the downstairs bathroom in an isolated area there was flooding, flooding that had no explainable cause, the pipe to the sink didn’t burst, the wall pipe didn’t burst, toilet didn’t clog, nothing could’ve explained it. The bathroom was unoccupied for a couple days and the last time had no flooding.
So the story I’m about to tell will take place in Jefferson County, Missouri. Specifically Fenton, High Ridge, and Cedar Hill. Also, the Fenton home they lived in was by Indian Mounds, which were burial grounds for important Indian leaders. My mother, her 3 sisters, and parents never really moved into their own house.
They preferred to build it on their own. One of their first homes was built in a location that was soon turned into just another outlet of stores.
Before all of that, however, My mother (I’ll call her Sally,) her three sisters, (Once more, I’ll call them Summer, Rose, and Roxie) and her parents, lived in a small “apartment”, as they would call it, in the middle of the woods. It was a very calm area, not many lived there and it was just want my grandparent’s wanted. However, while they were building the house, they came across a bone.
I’m actually an agnostic when it comes to ghosts, but if I hadn’t experienced what I’m about to tell you then I’d probably be a fully-blown sceptic.
Sitting on the Scottish coastline in Troon, Ayrshire is a nineteenth century villa called Crosbie Towers, beautifully crafted and in the Italianate style. It is well-known in the local area and you can find pictures of it online, both in its current and former state. Even when it degenerated into a derelict and poorly-maintained building, the mansion still looked quite elegant. And scary.
When we ventured inside on a calm evening in May 2012, it really was your proverbial haunted house: dusty floors, wooden panels, boarded-up windows, a broken-down elevator, a creepy dentist’s chair, and a spiral stairacse leading up to a square tower. There was debris everywhere, old chairs and furniture, and the air was rather heavy and musty. It smelled like an old library.
My friends were just approaching the foot of the staircase when a loud, crashing bang sounded from the top. I was at the back of the queue, admittedly not the bravest of the bunch on this occasion, but the noise and shock will stay with me forever. We bolted out and returned several nights later. You could say that a homeless person or another explorer orchestrated the bang to scare us away, but that would seem an unnecessarily severe measure to take. That bang was angry, sinister even. It wasn’t like an object was just dropped or thrown casually; there was great force and will behind it. Still, I would have granted a human cause as the likeliest explanation were it not for what we would soon discover. . .
I recently submitted a story about being held at gunpoint when i was fifteen. This story is about the same house. The house was built in 1926 in Raleigh NC. I lived there with my mom and brother and we all thought it was haunted because of strange experiences we were each having. For me i was obsessed with the bathroom across from my room. On many occasions i would go to the downstairs bathroom just to avoid using this one. I told my mom on a regular basis that it should be locked when not being used, we had skeleton keys for all the doors in the house. She didn’t understand it but didn’t argue with me either. She later reminded me of my obsession after the home invasion experience. I personally didn’t connect the two at first but every time i took a shower in that bathroom i felt like i was being watched by a man standing just behind a wall beside the bathroom, i thought it must have been a ghost. The guy who broke into home was standing in a closet in the hallway before he approached me. It was the same spot where i pictured the ghost. So now i’m thinking it might not be a ghost but some sort of premonition i was having. I experienced this intense uncomfortable feelings over sixth months before the incident. I’m not ruling out it being a ghost because we had multiple other paranormal experiences in that house. I know it sounds crazy but i’m curious what other people think about this or if anyone has experienced anything similar.
Ghost and the paranormal have never been something unusual in my life. My earliest memories are of my maternal grandfather putting me in his lap and singing to me. And if me or my older brother had had a nightmare, he would comfort us and tuck us in again. The thing is though, we were born in 79 and 82 and my maternal grandfather passed away in 1969. Because of this, I was never really worried about the benevolent spirit living in our basement bedroom.
When I was 16 I met a woman who would later become my wife. She too had been surrounded by paranormal happenings her entire life and she instantly recognized the spirit in the basement as a child ghost. We fondly named it Charlie, since we didn’t know the gender of said ghost. Charlie was a very mischievous spirit who liked to pull off blankets, open up cabinets, spread candy all over the floor and pull out comic books from my drawer.
When I was 20 I got my first real job and I moved to my own apartment. It was a one room with a hob. So it was very tiny, especially for one person and two cats. But it was still homey, mostly because I quickly noticed that Charlie had moved with me.
This story is from the prospective of my aunt.My aunt still lives till this day in the house where many people have experienced their nightmares.When she first moved into the house she had a sensation that something was wrong.The first event she experienced was when she was praying one night and as soon as she finished she felt as if someone or something was choking her.At the same time a pen flew across the room. She was panicked as soon as it was over ,but she couldn’t do anything about that was the only place they had to live.
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.