Ghost Stories & Paranormal Encounters

I’ll start from where I believe this all began. A party, a locked bathroom door, four girls and a Ouija board. I know what you all are thinking.. “Ouija board? Tsk, Tsk. Silly girl, don’t you know what those do?” I didn’t at the time, I do now, of course.

So, we played with this stupid little board. One girl left, another told me we were all cursed for it. I simply rolled my eyes, but in the back of my mind I was worried beyond belief. I thought, “What if I cause something bad because I’m cursed?”

Time went on, things went well. Then I started to notice the feeling of being watched around my house more and more. I started to get a little paranoid. When nobody was home, I could clearly hear footsteps, things being ruffled as if being sorted through. It frightened me, thinking someone was in the house. Being young, about 12, I would constantly carry a butcher knife around when alone. It made me feel completely crazy to do so.

Then, one day, I was in my basement. We had built a bar and put a pool table in down there. The stereo was on, and I was just sitting on the pool table edge. The basement was my place of solitude, it being cool and dark, just something I liked the feel of.

I heard shuffling feet, as if someone in heavy boots was walking across the concrete floor. Expecting to see my dad, or someone in my house, I looked up. My eyes flashed to the mirror by the stairs, a figure staring back at me. It was a man, his hair dark, short, a little shaggy. A black shirt with white lettering. Jeans. And heavy boots.

The image in the mirror showed he was standing right behind me. My heart leaped as he grinned slightly, I didn’t have any idea what was happening. I am naturally pale, but at that moment, I must have been translucent I was so scared — and excited.

I turned my head to look at where he should have been standing – he was gone. Goosebumps still raised on my arms, I looked around. I couldn’t hear him anymore, his feet shuffling. I glanced at the mirror, he wasn’t there either. I felt kind of disappointed. I have always liked the paranormal, and seeing this made me so very happy.

I thought maybe I was wanting an explanation for the footsteps so my mind had made things up. I thought I was making myself crazy by being so paranoid, maybe I hadn’t seen a thing. But I just felt deep down that this was not the case. That I had seen something.

Trying to convince myself I was just crazy, I went up the stairs and out the door, sitting on the porch and thinking. It was late afternoon, not too hot, just starting to cool down. I kept thinking, “I wonder what his name is.”

So much for convincing myself I was just crazy, eh?

For some reason, the name Jason just kept jumping at me. And so, I would call him Jason often. Whenever I would say or think his name on the porch or in the basement, I would get chills.

I told my mom about him. She only said, “We just built this house! How could he be here?”&

I knew she believed me, but just didn’t understand. And neither did I. But I also didn’t care. I was happy to have a friend, someone that didn’t mind my liking of solitude.

Then, one day, I was sitting on my bed, thinking. I could have sworn I felt someone lay on the bed next to me. I got goosebumps and looked over cautiously. There seemed to be an indent almost in the covers. Sighing, I convinced myself it was nothing. But I couldn’t help but wonder if it was Jason.

I started talking to him, he would be there every night. I never saw him, except occasionally in the basement mirror. But I could feel his presence. Never threatening. Always content – almost excited. His energy made it easy to feel okay that I was feeling crazy.

One day, I woke up to my mom shaking me awake. She told me she saw a man in her bathroom mirror, fixing his hair. I asked if he was thin, tall. If it was Jason.

Apparently, it was a fat, older man. He wore dress pants and suspenders. She said he scared her. She didn’t want these things anymore. However, she never did anything much to get rid of them, and they never went away.

I would keep talking to Jason – or maybe myself. I would just blabber on. About anything. And I would have dreams of him sometimes. He never spoke much, all my dreams were silent. Just me talking, and everything else quiet.

Then one night, I think he showed me how he died. In a car accident. There were about 5 people in a car, him driving. I was seeing it as if I was sitting inside the car. It suddenly began flipping. Everyone banging around but me, I was still. Their screams were silent. Then it was still, and I woke up.

Soon, school started. Friends were made. I wasn’t home as much. Jason seemed to start to disappear.

One day, my dad said he saw a man on the front porch. He described him as Jason was. He was staring forward and then seemed to disappear. No one has seen him since. And I don’t understand what happened.

Then the man in my mothers mirror started patrolling the house. Mainly her bathroom and the upstairs hallway. I have awoken to a feeling of my face being pushed into my pillow, I couldn’t raise my head. It hurt, the pressure. Then it would just stop. I have awoken to my pillow being thrown across the room from under my head.

I have seen him in my mothers bathroom, just glaring at me. He feels threatening. He doesn’t talk to me. Nobody else seems to see him. I don’t see why he picks on me. I guess that is all I can say about this for now. It all seems made up now that I reread it. But, it is not.

And this was not my first paranormal experience.

Written by Jessica Cooper, Copyright 2009