When I was young, about six years old, I would talk to a girl named Shelly. I remember she had long, wavy brown hair and very pretty green eyes. She ‘lived’ in what back then was the playroom. Shelly told me she was eleven but really wanted to be thirteen, but that “She could never do that”. I was really confused but played with her anyway. I don’t think I ever told my parents about her either.
One day Shelly and I were sitting just talking (I don’t remember what about) when she started crying. I was worried for her and asked why. She only replied “I miss them!” I would later find out who she was talking about.
She would teach me about stuff like an older sister would, and she comforted me when I had nightmares.
I would talk to her at mealtimes and my parents just figured I was playing.
One day I was outside in the front yard and Shelly came up behind me, tapping me on the shoulder. I smiled and we talked for a bit, laughing. By now I was only seven and didn’t know it was weird to randomly be laughing in your yard. A guy, maybe sixteen, came up my driveway. Shelly scowled and put her hand on mine. I remember vividly that her hand was cold- but at the time I didn’t really notice. The guy stopped and looked at me up and down. By now I was aware of ‘stranger danger’ but that seemed to leave me for a moment now. I smiled and greeted him, introducing Shelly. That guy just about laughed his head off and reached for my arm. I pulled away, confused. “He’s bad. Don’t.” Shelly whispered next to me. I began getting scared, saying things like “Shelly says you’re bad! No! Let go!” And the guy grabbed me by my black hair and pulled, hard. Then he had my hands pinned behind my back. It hurt and Shelly reached and slapped his hand. He shouted in surprise and backed up, wide-eyed. “You didn’t hit me! What the-” I learned half of the cuss words I know now from this guy. And I never saw him again, but he must’ve been a believer in ghosts. Shelly explained that this was how she died. I didn’t understand at that age, but I do now.
I started seeing her less and less as I got older. I remember the last time I saw her, though. She came up and played with my hair while she explained. I don’t remember her exact words, but I do remember she wanted to be with God, and that soon I would be thirteen like she always wanted to be. She said she missed her parents and family, and her friends because they went to heaven when she didn’t. I was old enough now to understand, and I cried but I let her go.
That night I prayed for the real first time, for her.
When I was eleven I decided to look up the history of my house. I found no Shelly, but I did find a girl that lived down the street from me named Shelly (I wont say her last name). She was kidnapped while at the park nearby and murdered. This happened a long time ago and her parents are dead now, from what I found out.
Sent in by Madi R., Copyright 2012 TrueGhostTales.com