Ghost Stories & Paranormal Encounters

My father had worked for a large car company and sometimes he had to travel or we had to move a lot,sometimes overseas. It wasn’t easy and we didn’t always get to unpack, living out of boxes and suitcases was the norm as was home schooling.

Back in 1978, I had just turned 16 when my father told us of yet another move, this time to England, some where outside of London. Since my mom was from Scotland, I was excited at the thought of getting to see my grandparents more and spending more time with them.

The company found us a small cozy house that looked like it was a picture come to life. It was great and was said to be over 300 years old and that royalty had slept within its walls, pretty cool. That alone made the house all the more special. But, someone forgot to tell us it was haunted by a well know womanizer who died in what was now my room.

The seduction began the very first night I slept in my room. I was awakened by the sound of bare feet pacing to the right of my bed and then the bed dipping as if someone had just sat down next to me. At first I thought it was my mom checking on me, but when I looked, no one was there. Thinking I just imagined it, I rolled over and was just starting to fall asleep when it happened again! Only this time, I felt a hand on my hip! Sitting up, I turned on the light and found no one on or near my bed. It was bad enough I was scared, but the scent of sandalwood and leather came over me as if someone or something was walking past me. I slept with the light on, when I could sleep.

This went on for about a month and sometimes I would be so tired that if my touchy feely ghost showed up, I slept through it. But one night, I didn’t sleep through my legs and thighs being caressed and my night gown getting pushed up to my thighs! Letting out a scream, I jumped from my bed and ran to my parents, telling them what had been going on in my room and no I wasn’t crazy!

For almost two months this went, mind you, it or he, whatever, wasn’t hurting me, just freaking me out. At one point, I just ignored it hoping it would just stop and leave me alone. Thank god for mom, she looked into the history of the house and found that the man who lived there was a womanizer and had been murdered by a very angry husband for fathering his wife’s child. It’s said he loved the ladies so much that he just couldn’t leave. Women who have lived in the house claim they have had visits from this man almost every night. It’s also said he’ll leave a single red rose by their bed, a feeling of being loved and cherished just filling them. He’s never hurt any woman, but will do things if any men in the house does harm or makes a woman cry.

One report is a husband and wife had an argument one night and the man was cussing the woman out when an ashtray shot up from the table in the living room and straight for the mans head. The wife was no where near the table at the time! Women claim to be awaken in the middle of the night by sounds of a man humming softly in their ear, only to find themselves alone or their mates sound asleep.

Crazy as this may seem, I began talking to the man, I even called him James and kindly asked if he would please stop touching me so I could sleep. It worked and I always thanked him and would talk to him every night about my day and school and stupid stuff.

For the remaining year we lived in the house, I would find a single red rose by my bed and my cheek would tingle as if some one kissed me lightly while ill slept. The day we had to move back to the states, I cried. I was going to miss James, he was the closest I came to having a real boyfriend and I never spoke to anyone about it either, not even my parents.

Six years ago I went back to England and the house is still there and still looks as beautiful as it did when I lived there. But from what I understand no one has had any run ins with James or been seduced. Maybe James has moved on and is no longer there? I only hope he’s happy.

Sent in by Kira Michaels, Copyright 2010