Ghost Stories & Paranormal Encounters

When I was 9, we moved to a beach-side neighborhood that was old, and ghost experiences there were almost like a dime a dozen. Some of my family had experiences that later convinced them our house was haunted. The house we moved into had a creepy feeling of being watched at night. It had a dark basement and our dog never voluntarily went there, where my older brother and older sister had their own rooms.

First some strange things that happened:

My big sister was woken up from a nap by someone knocking on the bedroom door. She called out to come in, but nothing happened. She was home all alone.

I was having a sleepover in my brother’s room after he moved out, and woke up in the middle of a restless sleep to the door knocking with passion. (This was kind of like a crappy door made of wood with a latch that jangled from looseness whenever you knock on it so its knock was unique sounding.)

Once, I bought a telephone at a church sale because I knew there was a plug near the bathroom and I thought ‘it would be so luxurious to lay there and gab with my friends as I took a bath.’ That night, my parents wanted to take me and my sister out, but I was fixated on using my bath phone. They thought I wanted to ditch them for my friend so I was forced to promise to stay home and not go to her house, so I promised. After they left, it was already dark and the creepy feeling of being watched had filled the house, and there was barely any lights on. I didn’t care, I was distracted plugging the phone in, putting it on the bathroom floor, locking the door, getting undressed, running my bath. I laid down in my bath and when I picked up the receiver, the phone was dead. (I felt pretty stupid) Stunned, I laid there, in creepy silence, feeling anxious, wondering what to do with myself since my phone-bath idea was ruined. After a few minutes I realized someone was washing dishes in the kitchen! I wasn’t sure at first, but I listened, and my brain confirmed that if I wasn’t hearing hot water running through the pipes, and pots and dishes clanking together, I was definitely hearing something similar. I relaxed and got out of the bath to join whoever was home with me. As I stepped out of the door into the dim hallways I saw instantly that the kitchen was as dark as was most of the house and nobody was home. I ran in a panic to my friend’s house, and got in trouble for breaking my promise.

Another day, I was at my best friend’s townhouse and my mom was coming to pick me up. I heard our loud propane engine coming down the street and me and my friend ran to the window to see my mom pull up, and we waved at her through the window as she parked, then ran to the front room to wait for her to come in. When she came in, she talked with us for a few minutes, and said “where’s the other girl that’s here?” but we were confused as we showed her it was just us two girls and our moms. My mom said “yeah, she was about you girls’ age, with long blonde hair, and after you left the window, she came up and waved at me, too”.

Years later I babysat for the couple who lived there afterwards, and noticed that the computer had turned itself on out of the blue. But these were not the experiences that proved to me the existence of the supernatural – THIS is what convinced me: Back in my creepy family house, it was only me and my sister and father living there in the end. One day, I was doing my usual routine 10 minutes before leaving for school, which was to go look for my backpack which I’d thrown in the mess of the living room immediately after school the previous day, then get it ready to go. I was in my usual semi-worried state that looking for my bag might make me late for school, and I was preoccupied with that worry. When right behind me, in a whisper that sounded like my sister with forbidden candy from the kitchen would, my name was loudly but calmly whispered behind me. I didn’t even turn around at first, since I was more concerned about where the damn bag was. I thought it was my sister for sure because it sounded like someone who didn’t want to be heard from the kitchen. So I just replied “WHAT.” Then I turned to see, and the hallway was empty! I could heard the voices of my sister and father talking in the kitchen.  It was not a quiet whisper like wind in trees. My name has 3 syllables and the middle syllable was emphasized in the whisper so that I really thought it was my sister trying to get my immediate attention without my father hearing her. (I ran from that hallway!) Reflecting, I wondered how a ghost could know my name? That means it knows who I am, I realized, and that scared me very much. I experienced it so clearly and consciously that I knew it was 100% real. I have been creeped by “ghosts” ever since, but I love this site.

Sent in by Victoria, Copyright 2010 TrueGhostTales.com