Ghost stories

[BeachMomma]

This isn't meant to be a serious discussion on the reality or fantasy of ghosts. It's meant to be a fun thread that we tell stories about things that can't be explained by any normal or rational means. Please tell your stories and enjoy the ones posted here. Whether you consider them fiction, flights of fantasy, or a true paranormal activity, just enjoy them for what they really are - entertainment.

I've made no secret that I'm a nurse. I see some strange shit. I've been in health care for over 30 years, so in that time, trust me when I tell you I've seen LOTS of strange shit! I learned long ago that when a patient suddenly tells you they're going to die, pay attention. They're usually right. I've also learned that when a patient starts having visitors who have long passed, they usuallly pass as well - usually on that particular shift, although sometimes within the next 24 hours.

And now, let the stories begin. The virtual campfire is lit, we're all sitting around it eating s'mores, and let's give each other virtual shivers down the spine.

http://dev.netingredient.com/balvanyos/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Campfire1-150x150.jpg​

 

[BeachMomma]

When I first started in health care, I was a naive teenager working as a nurses' aide. This was back when they were still called aides and before we had to be certified. I worked in the skilled nursing section of a nursing home. We had one patient that was in the last room on the left at the end of the hall. I'll call him Mr. Black.

Mr. Black was an older gentleman, well into his 90s. He'd been a bear of a patient. He was constantly on the call bell, grumpy as all hell, and we couldn't do anything to satisfy him. Everything we did was wrong, and he complained pretty much non-stop. He was just an unhappy person.

I was working the night he passed away. It was my job to clean his body, tag him, and put him in the shroud to await transport to the funeral home. Another aide and I were in the room doing just that. The rooms were normally very hot. The elderly are typically cold-natured, so the rooms were so hot we usually sweated like crazy as we worked. Pam and I were in that room. We'd just finished cleaning him and were in the process of putting him in the shroud. Suddenly, that room got so cold we both shivered. We looked at each other in surprise, but neither of us said anything. We just worked as quickly and efficiently as we could so we could get out of there.

When the funeral home personnel left with the body, we went back to the room to pack his belongings to return to his family. The room was still icy cold, but it was the only room on the entire floor that was cold. It stayed cold in there all that night and for a good portion of the next day before it finally started warming again.

I don't remember the exact number, but for a while after that, every patient who was assigned to that room died shortly thereafter. I worked there for about six months, and I saw quite a few people move into that room then die. I don't remember the room turning cold after their deaths, so it probably didn't. The room was known amongst the staff as "Mr. Black's room" even though many other people also lived - and died - in that room.

 

[BeachMomma]

The same nursing home - same skilled care unit - we had another patient. A very sweet little elderly lady who had cervical cancer. We nicknamed her "Pookie Bear," and that's what we all called her. She used to grin like crazy every time we called her that name. Did I mention that we loved her dearly?

I was working the night she died. Cervical cancer is an ugly, ugly disease. It leaves the patient with an odor that can't be described. We were sad as we prepared her body for transport, but we knew she wasn't suffering anymore. I finished my shift at 2300 (that's 11pm for normal people) and made the 45 minute drive back home.

I could still smell that stench. It was horribly nauseating, and it takes a lot to nauseate me. I still lived with my parents at the time; I was 18 years old and in college. When I walked in the door, Mom was still awake. She was also a nurse, but the stench was so bad, she gagged.

I hit the shower. No matter how many times I washed myself, the stench remained. I finally got the bright idea to shower myself down with rubbing alcohol. That did the trick. I cried for Pookie Bear while I was in that shower. She was one of the sweetest ladies I'd ever had the privilege of caring for in my career, and I'd miss her.

As I slept that night, I had a dream. I dreamed that when we slid the shrouded body onto the funeral transport's stretcher, instead we slid her into God's outstretched arms. I'm not a religious person, but that dream gave me a sense of peace. I knew that I'd given her the ultimate service and care that a nurse can give. She died peacefully and with people who had become her family. She was the first of a long line of patients that I sat with her and held her hand so she wouldn't die alone.

To this day, I refuse to allow a patient to die alone. I work on a telemetry floor, so all of our patients' hearts are monitored at the desk. We can see on the monitor when someone is dying - if we don't know it already. When their hearts start "bradying down" or go into an agonal rhythm, I go sit with them, hold their hands, and tell them they aren't alone. That's the legacy that Pookie Bear passes on - thirty years later.

 

[cowslinger64]

I don't have a ghost story for you at the moment....but I do want to commend you and people like you have my utmost respect for doing the sort of job you do. I hate going to the hospital and I'm thankful people such as are there to take care of the sick and to deal with human misery as you do.

I have too much empathy I think, cause I don't think I could shut it off and be around so much suffering. I have a friend that is a nurse and she deals with babies that were born with horrible defects...there is just no way I could do that.

Kudos to you.

 

[imemkay]

I don't have any ghost stories right now, either.

However, I do want to thank you for giving such wonderful, loving care to your patients. It's really beautiful that sit with them as they leave this world.

 

[amofiga]

Two stories from the general area in which I live.

1) My wife used to work as a tour guide at the Hampton Mansion, a historic National Park home that is part of a huge land grant given to the Ridgley Family in Maryland by the King of England back in the 1700's. Ridgley descendents lived in the house until the 1950's when the taxes and upkeep became to much and it was sold to a member of the DuPont family who later donated it to the National Parks. There are several ghosts associated with the house and although the park rangers are instructed NOT to discuss them with visitors, several have had strange experiences. The following was told to her by one of the female rangers who was a friend of my wife's. She went one evening to check the gate to the cupola above the third floor before closing up for the day. General visitors were not allowed up in the cupola. It was always locked except for special visitors who had a more legitimate historic purpose for their visit. As she starded down the steps to the second floor, the gate started rattling very loudly as though someone was shaking it and she thought someone might have gone up and was now locked in. She went back to check, and even climbed the steps to the cupola to check and make sure there were no open windows. All seened fine. She relocked the gate and started down the steps again. Again, the gate started rattling and shaking loudly and she want back to look. All fine. Again to the steps and the gate started rattling. She just yelled back, "I don't know which one you are, but you'd better quit it now. It's not funny." The rattling stopped immediately, and she ran like hell down the steps.

2) The main building at Gettysburg College was used as a field hospital during the Cival War. As the story goes, one day, one of the administrators was going down in the elevator and wanted to stop at the first floor but the elevator continued to the basement. As the door opened, he saw a room full of wounded and dying soldiers, horrific amputations being done, etc. He immediately closed the door in a panic and the elevator ascended. He convinced others to go to the basement to see and there was no such vision of a war field hospital.

 

[beachbum1958]

.....

 

[BeachMomma]

I don't have a ghost story for you at the moment....but I do want to commend you and people like you have my utmost respect for doing the sort of job you do. I hate going to the hospital and I'm thankful people such as are there to take care of the sick and to deal with human misery as you do.

I have too much empathy I think, cause I don't think I could shut it off and be around so much suffering. I have a friend that is a nurse and she deals with babies that were born with horrible defects...there is just no way I could do that.

Kudos to you.

Thanks, Slinger. It's hard to turn it off and on like a switch, but that's something we almost have to do in order to maintain our own sanity. It's definitely a learned skill. The two biggest weapons in my personal armor are my sometimes ridiculous sense of humor and the fact that I can take immense satisfaction in knowing that I improved someone's life - if only for 12 hours. Improving their life can mean anything from making them smile to letting them know they aren't alone when they die. Sometimes, it means holding a baby that doesn't get held by its own mama. Those are the patients that break my heart.

Not a ghost story, but when I was in nursing school, we had to rotate through pediatrics. There was a four month old baby who'd been badly abused. That baby had multiple fractures - including a skull fracture. It was in a full body cast. That baby's mother only showed up once a day and that was just for a few minutes at a time. She sometimes didn't show up at all.

I held that baby at the nurses' desk for my entire 8 hour shift. I fed it, rocked it, and just loved the hell out of that little baby. I actually cried when I had to leave it to go home. The baby didn't like my singing (lol), so I couldn't sing it lullabies. It did like the sound of my voice though, so I came up with something that worked better than singing to it.

We were having a test that week in mental health nursing. I recited personality disorders, medicines, side effects, and anything else I could think of to talk to it. The nurses laughed at my ability to multi-task. LOL I studied and soothed the baby at the same time. I literally only put the baby down long enough to do diaper changes and to go to lunch. It slept in my arms in a rocking chair, and when it was awake, I talked to it and loved it. That poor baby probably hadn't had that much attention in its entire four months of life.

When I met with the rest of the class and our nursing instructor for post-conference, the instructor asked me (as she'd done with everybody else) about my day. I told them. I held a baby all day. I went on to tell them the baby's story. After I was finished, the instructor said that was THE most important lesson she wanted us to take away from the peds rotation: that sometimes being a nurse is all about giving a patient love. If we can't do anything else, we can make that patient's life better for the time we're with them.

That's my goal every day that I go to work.

 

[BeachMomma]

I don't have any ghost stories right now, either.

However, I do want to thank you for giving such wonderful, loving care to your patients. It's really beautiful that sit with them as they leave this world.

Imemkay, if you asked the people who used to scrub with me in the OR, they'd tell you I can be the biggest bitch ever when I have to be. I sometimes get grouchy with my coworkers - even though I love them to death. If you ask my patients, though, they think I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread. (Little do they know. lol)

Everybody who passes through our doors has two basic needs - to be treated with dignity and respect and to be listened to. I can be a bitch to a patient who needs it, but I don't want to have to do that. I'd rather be the kind nurse that they remember fondly. I want them to remember me as the nurse who listened to them when even their own friends and family wouldn't. I treat every patient as if they're a guest in my home - because in reality, they are. Even if the patient is a total pain in my ass, I don't let them see it. I might have to answer that damned infernal call bell every five minutes, but I try to act like I want to answer it. I might have 50 things that I need to do, but if at all possible, I'll stand or sit there and let the patient chat with me.

The nursing rationale for that is to develop trust and rapport with the patient. The human rationale is that the patient needs to talk - and needs to be listened to. They need a friend who won't judge them.

 

[BeachMomma]

Two stories from the general area in which I live.

1) My wife used to work as a tour guide at the Hampton Mansion, a historic National Park home that is part of a huge land grant given to the Ridgley Family in Maryland by the King of England back in the 1700's. Ridgley descendents lived in the house until the 1950's when the taxes and upkeep became to much and it was sold to a member of the DuPont family who later donated it to the National Parks. There are several ghosts associated with the house and although the park rangers are instructed NOT to discuss them with visitors, several have had strange experiences. The following was told to her by one of the female rangers who was a friend of my wife's. She went one evening to check the gate to the cupola above the third floor before closing up for the day. General visitors were not allowed up in the cupola. It was always locked except for special visitors who had a more legitimate historic purpose for their visit. As she starded down the steps to the second floor, the gate started rattling very loudly as though someone was shaking it and she thought someone might have gone up and was now locked in. She went back to check, and even climbed the steps to the cupola to check and make sure there were no open windows. All seened fine. She relocked the gate and started down the steps again. Again, the gate started rattling and shaking loudly and she want back to look. All fine. Again to the steps and the gate started rattling. She just yelled back, "I don't know which one you are, but you'd better quit it now. It's not funny." The rattling stopped immediately, and she ran like hell down the steps.

2) The main building at Gettysburg College was used as a field hospital during the Cival War. As the story goes, one day, one of the administrators was going down in the elevator and wanted to stop at the first floor but the elevator continued to the basement. As the door opened, he saw a room full of wounded and dying soldiers, horrific amputations being done, etc. He immediately closed the door in a panic and the elevator ascended. He convinced others to go to the basement to see and there was no such vision of a war field hospital.

OK, I have to admit, the 2nd story sent chills up my spine! I've heard similar stories from crusty, old, veteran nurses. One nurse told this story:

She was working in a hospital and had one pediatric patient - a girl about 12ish. It was during night shift. One of the aides had been down a particular hall and came back to the nurses' desk - freaking out. She'd seen someone wearing all white walking in and out of the rooms down that hall. Of course, everybody laughed at her. She refused to go back down that hallway, and she was so adamant about it that they had to reassign her and replace her with another aide.

Later, the nurse made her rounds. She went to check on the 12 yr old girl. The girl asked for the "other" nurse. The nurse told her there wasn't another nurse; she was the only nurse on the floor. The girl insisted that she wanted the other nurse - the nurse wearing all white who had come in, took care of her IV, and bustled around the room picking up and straightening it.

This happened somewhat recently. Nurses were wearing scrubs instead of the old fashioned, white uniforms, white stockings, and white cap. The girl insisted that the nurse was wearing a white uniform and stockings and a white cap. The "nurse" made the girl feel so comfortable that she wanted her as her nurse.

They never found out who the nurse was. They simply assumed it was an older nurse who used to work there way back when. Way back when she was alive, maybe? *giggles*

 

[BeachMomma]

I work as a Field Surgeon, specialising mostly in Weapons Effects injuries in Helmand, and rotate back to the UK every 2-3 sometimes 4 weeks, remain in UK for a week or so, then back out out to relieve one of the other surgeons. One night, the same night I'd arrived back at Northolt, I dreamt that the man who was replacing me, whom I had briefed that morning, was standing in my room with his back to me, talking to me about his young daughter, and when he turned round, his shirt and trousers were covered in blood, and he said to me ' I think I've been hurt', and I woke with a start. I put it down to anxiety dreams, stress, etc. A couple of days later, I was called back to Northolt, my leave revoked, because they needed a replacement trauma surgeon at Bastion, the man who'd replaced me had been killed the day he arrived, a sniper round had hit him, nearly disembowelled him as he stood chatting to one of the incoming med. relief team nurses. I've never had an experience like that before, or since, and I don't know why that happened to me then, but it scared about this place the way nothing everhas before or since

Wow! That's incredibly sad. The dream is freaky as all hell, but that's another common theme that I hear when the topic of conversation turns to ghost stories. I can't count how many times I've been with a patient - or even my own parents - when they've talked about being "visited" by someone who has passed away.

I actually had this conversation with a hospice nurse during my hospice rotation in school. She said it is very common for a dying patient to be "led" out of this world by a friend or family member who preceded them in death. She said she's seen it and heard it enough that she believes it - even though there is a physiological explanation that I can't remember.

Slightly off-topic - I absolutely HATE the Johnson & Johnson commercial that shows the patient talking to the hospice nurse. The patient tells the nurse that there's a custom of leaving the window open when a patient dies to allow that patient's soul to leave. The hospice nurse responds, "Not tonight, Bertha. Not tonight."

That is *not* what hospice nursing is all about. That nurse in the commercial basically tells Bertha that she isn't allowed to die tonight. A hospice nurse would never do that. Their job is basically to give the patient permission to die peacefully and with dignity.

 

[BeachMomma]

This is a personal story that actually happened to me. After I divorced my ex-husband, my daughter and I temporarily moved in with my parents. Mom was a late-stage COPDer at that time - meaning that she was dying of emphysema. My daughter and I had an apartment in their basement for a few months until I got back on my feet.

One night, I was in our apartment, sitting at the computer playing a game. My daughter was asleep in her bed. I heard knocks that seemed to come from upstairs. I stopped playing the game, muted the sound on the computer, and listened intently. Sure enough, I heard the knocks again.

I figured it was mom and that she needed something, so I took off running upstairs. I found her in her bed in respiratory distress - she couldn't breathe. I called 911 and did what I could to help her breathe - raised the head of her hospital bed and started a med neb treatment for her. I didn't have to start CPR on her, but she was definitely in trouble.

A few days later, she was still in the hospital Intensive Care Unit - improving. She said to me, "I've been wondering; how did you know I needed you that night?"

I told her about hearing the knocks coming from upstairs. She insisted that she didn't knock; she couldn't breathe, and she couldn't do anything else other than struggle to breathe.

I KNOW I heard knocking - several different times. Where it came from? That's an entirely different matter. All I know is that it saved Mom's life that night.

 

[bluebomber]

I used to cook for a retirement facility and would go in very early in the morning,around 4 a.m., I would be the only one there for a couple hours. It was great,could get alot of stuff done without being bothered. I would go in turn on all the equipment turn on the radio and jam out while preparing for the day,for the exception of some mornings.(yes more than once) I would go in turn everything on start working then, for some unknown reason the elevator we had in kitchen would start opening and closing. I'd go look inside and noone is there and it would continue for a while then stop. Then my radio would just shut off. I'd turn it back on just to have it turn off again a lil while later,and i could swear i could hear someone in the kitchen but impossible. I was locked in by myself for a couple hours before anyone else would come in. The weird thing is this only happened in the early a.m. didn't ever happen during the day. kinda glad i don't work there anymore lol

 

[BeachMomma]

I used to cook for a retirement facility and would go in very early in the morning,around 4 a.m., I would be the only one there for a couple hours. It was great,could get alot of stuff done without being bothered. I would go in turn on all the equipment turn on the radio and jam out while preparing for the day,for the exception of some mornings.(yes more than once) I would go in turn everything on start working then, for some unknown reason the elevator we had in kitchen would start opening and closing. I'd go look inside and noone is there and it would continue for a while then stop. Then my radio would just shut off. I'd turn it back on just to have it turn off again a lil while later,and i could swear i could hear someone in the kitchen but impossible. I was locked in by myself for a couple hours before anyone else would come in. The weird thing is this only happened in the early a.m. didn't ever happen during the day. kinda glad i don't work there anymore lol

I remember you talking about that! (For those of you who don't know, BB is my husband. Don't hold it against him; he didn't know what he was getting into when he married me. )

My hubby doesn't freak out easily. Actually, he's the most laid back person I've ever known. (He has to be to be married to me. lol) I don't think I've ever seen him get "spooked." We've had some strange things happen here at the house - I'll tell those stories another day. He has some stories about things that happened here before I married him.

On the topic of elevators - this is actually a funny story. Remember earlier in the thread when I talked about my early days in that skilled nursing unit? Yeah, well....

I'm a practical joker; it's never a good idea to let me get bored. I'll create my own excitement.

When I worked there, we had a 3-11 supervisor that everybody hated. She was REALLY old school. Crusty as hell, she still wore the traditional nursing uniforms, and she was a total pain in our asses. We decided to fuck with her one night.

I'll call the supervisor Mrs. Burns (she insisted that we call her by her last name - she was that old school). Mrs. Burns was the only person who used the elevators during the shift. Our unit was on the fifth floor. We only used it when we came on duty or left for the night.

We had one of the other aides get on a stretcher in the elevator late one night. We covered her with a sheet and put the stretcher on the elevator with her on it. (Just for the record, deceased patients aren't really covered with sheets during transport. Everybody who sees it knows what that means, and nobody wants to make a visitor or patient uncomfortable. We put the deceased patients in a shroud. It looks like a big, black box - like that's really any more discreet than covering a patient with a sheet.) Pam waited patiently on the stretcher. Sure enough, the elevator eventually started moving. Mrs. Burns was making her hourly rounds.

Pam's assignment was to wait till the elevator reached its destination then when she heard the doors open and somebody get on the elevator, she was supposed to sit straight up. She told us later that she did just that. Mrs Burns didn't suspect a thing. She glanced up from her clipboard as she got on the elevator - and just as planned, Pam slowly sat up. She said Mrs. Burns screamed like a banshee, turned as white as the sheet, and hauled ass away from the elevator. Mrs. Burns only had one speed - exceedingly slow, but she moved ass that night. Pam laughed her ass off. We all got in a metric fuck-ton of trouble, but it was worth it.

 

[MarkSand]

I have a good, and real, one I'm too tired to share right now, involving arson, murder and cheap costume jewelry. Stay tuned! Great idea for a thread.

 

[BeachMomma]

I have a good, and real, one I'm too tired to share right now, involving arson, murder and cheap costume jewelry. Stay tuned! Great idea for a thread.

Welcome to our campfire, Mark. When you have time and energy, please do come back and tell us about it. In the meantime, have a S'more!

http://www.notyourmotherscookbook.com/images/6a00e00998c5c888330133f29d44e5970b-350wi1.jpg​

 

[MarkSand]

That hit the spot! Nice to meet you

 

[dutchrain]

*passing a bag of marshmallows around*

Like this fire and the stories.
Mind if I tell something weird? Not a ghost story but something I experienced.

I was thirteen and coming home with my dad from doing some errands. The Beetle was loaded, because he wanted to build something, and I was holding some boards to prevent them disturbing his steering. They were much to long for the car, he had opened a rear window, shoved them trough and they tended to a diagonal position; I had to hang on them with al my weight and keep pulling them to me.

Nearly home, we heard an ambulance. My dad looked towards the noise, took a deep breath and sighed.

"No need for that racket anymore. Bob died half an hour ago."

Shocked I nearly let go of the boards. How could he know that? We had been shopping for over an hour...
Hesitantly I asked him if he was sure, Bob was his best friend and my dad not someone who joked about dead.

"Yes. He was dead when Anna found him in the kitchen, that was nearly twenty minutes ago. They came quick though. The new guys are better in responding to calls as the old crew."

We arrived home, unpacked the car and he started sawing after he had drunk a coffee.

In the evening, Mark, an other friend, visited us.

"You better sit down, Martin, I've got to tell you something you won't like," he said after greetings. "Bob has died this afternoon. Doctor said he must have been dead when Anna found him. Heart attack, he said."

Dad was devastated.

"But you knew it already!" I said. "You told me. In the car when we heard the ambulance."

I got scolded, for making fun of him, of Bob, of dead.
Mark interrupted him, telling him I was just a little girl and probably shocked. My mom said the same...

Years later I sat with Mark and somehow that experience became the topic.

"You know, I didn't say it then, but I believed you. It has happened before. One day your dad collected his things, said goodbye, told us he would come back as soon as the funeral of his dad was organized. He left the office, we just looked at each other... Five minutes later his phone rang, I went over to his desk picked it up and it was an uncle of yours, asking for your dad because your granddad had just died."

 

[BeachMomma]

*passing a bag of marshmallows around*

Like this fire and the stories.
Mind if I tell something weird? Not a ghost story but something I experienced.

*snip*"No need for that racket anymore. Bob died half an hour ago."

*snip*Dad was devastated.

"But you knew it already!" I said. "You told me. In the car when we heard the ambulance."

I got scolded, for making fun of him, of Bob, of dead.
Mark interrupted him, telling him I was just a little girl and probably shocked. My mom said the same...

So he didn't even remember telling you that? Yeah, that is weird. It had to confuse the hell out of you as a little girl.

Welcome to the thread! Glad you like it! Stick around, come back often, and enjoy telling and reading shivery stories!

 

[Aquagal]

Clowns has a similar thread with some great stories about creepy goings on in his house. This is a very interesting topic btw.

 

[BeachMomma]

OK, BlueBomber will have a few stories later about the house we're living in now. I'm going to tell you what I've seen and heard firsthand, as well as what my daughter has seen and heard firsthand.

But first, a little background. Right after BB and I got married, my dad passed away. I buried him 2 weeks to the day after our wedding. Thirty-three days later, my mom passed away. It was a rough start for newlyweds. It was even rougher on my daughter. She was just barely 8 when daddy died. She didn't try to talk to me about them for a long time because she didn't want to upset me.

Fast forward a few years. My daughter was going through a rough stage. She'd gotten involved in a group of kids that I would've preferred she avoid. This is what she noticed - and there were times that BB and I saw them as well.

Her bedroom is at the end of the hallway - next to our bedroom. If her door is open, we can walk straight through the hall and into her bedroom without making a turn. Many times, she'd be in her room and see a person walking into the room out of the corner of her eye. When she turned to look, there was nobody there.

One night in particular, she came out of her room looking for me. I was in my bedroom reading before I went to sleep. She asked what I'd wanted. Of course, I didn't know what she was talking about. She said, "You came in my room. Did you want something?" I told her, no, I hadn't gone into her room. I hadn't left my room.

She said, "I saw you come into my room. I was sitting on my bed playing my guitar and saw somebody come in my room. When I looked up, I saw you standing there. I asked what you wanted, and you turned and walked away without saying anything."

I repeated that I hadn't gone into her room at all and I'd been in bed for a while reading. She knew I was telling the truth, but she still didn't know what to make of it.

Other things happened around the house. The microwave screwed up intermittently. We'd program it to do whatever, but it did something entirely different. That happened several times to all of us - my daughter, BB, and myself. Alarm clocks displayed the wrong time, and the camera's timestamp would have a wrong time and date on it - even though none of us had messed with them. The alarm clock thing usually happened to me. I was always the one who noticed the timestamp on the camera being wrong; I was the only one who used that camera. BB and my daughter didn't even know how to use it - much less change the settings.

The strangest part of the whole thing was that these things only happened when my daughter was here at the house. When she went to her dad's, all was quiet again.

We finally chalked it up to my parents' being here to keep an eye on my daughter and trying to help her through the rough patch she was going through. The idea gave my daughter peace, so we went with that explanation. She began talking to the shadows or the person she "saw" in her room. It was her way of dealing with several stressors, so I let it be.

When she got past that rough patch, the strange happenings stopped. To the best of my knowledge, we've never had a problem since. I changed alarm clocks, and we don't use that camera anymore, but we do still have the same microwave - and we've never had a problem with it since.

BB will tell you other things that have happened in this house before we moved in. There is another possible explanation for the unusual occurrences, but my daughter wanted to believe it was her grandparents - so that's the explanation we used.

 

[BeachMomma]

Clowns has a similar thread with some great stories about creepy goings on in his house. This is a very interesting topic btw.

Ohhhh! Please feel free to invite him to our campfire! I'm glad you enjoy it! Come back anytime.

A lot of my stories will either revolve around my work life or my family - specifically my parents. Mom had quite a few stories. Granted, she was older; she was born in 1920. She was also very superstitious.

Now, I have my superstitious moments - I'm convinced that the hospital is crazier during a full moon, things happen in threes, and I'll jinx myself if I take out an IV before I start a new one. (lol) I'll also jinx myself if I say to a patient, "Oh wow! You've got great veins! This IV will be *easy!*" My absolute biggest superstition at work is "The Q word." I go ballistic in a hurry if somebody complains about it being too quiet at work. As soon as someone says the Q word, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

My most unusual superstition is that I consider the number 13 to be my lucky number. I also consider Friday the 13th to be my lucky day. My "rationale" (if you can call it that lol) is that my birthday is on Halloween - so that makes good or bad luck backwards for me. I'm also left handed and red haired. I figure those are three reasons that what's unlucky for you will be lucky for me.

BB jokes that if he woke up and saw a pentagram glowing on my forehead, it wouldn't surprise him. It would scare the shit out of him, but it wouldn't surprise him. LOL He's such an asshole sometimes!

 

[Aquagal]

Ohhhh! Please feel free to invite him to our campfire! I'm glad you enjoy it! Come back anytime.

A lot of my stories will either revolve around my work life or my family - specifically my parents. Mom had quite a few stories. Granted, she was older; she was born in 1920. She was also very superstitious.

Now, I have my superstitious moments - I'm convinced that the hospital is crazier during a full moon, things happen in threes, and I'll jinx myself if I take out an IV before I start a new one. (lol) I'll also jinx myself if I say to a patient, "Oh wow! You've got great veins! This IV will be *easy!*" My absolute biggest superstition at work is "The Q word." I go ballistic in a hurry if somebody complains about it being too quiet at work. As soon as someone says the Q word, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

My most unusual superstition is that I consider the number 13 to be my lucky number. I also consider Friday the 13th to be my lucky day. My "rationale" (if you can call it that lol) is that my birthday is on Halloween - so that makes good or bad luck backwards for me. I'm also left handed and red haired. I figure those are three reasons that what's unlucky for you will be lucky for me.

BB jokes that if he woke up and saw a pentagram glowing on my forehead, it wouldn't surprise him. It would scare the shit out of him, but it wouldn't surprise him. LOL He's such an asshole sometimes!

He's not been around lately. My only story was on his thread, so I'm definitely open minded.

 

[beachbum1958]

I talked to my father about some of the stories on here, and he told me one of his own, about the house we lived in when I was a baby. My father was a Cardio-Thoracic surgeon, teaching at the Bristol Royal Infirmary, in the UK, and we lived in a big late-Georgian house in Clifton, the Regency part of Bristol. One afternoon, shortly after I was born, my mother was putting me down, when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs outside the 1st Floor bedroom, heavy solid steps, like my father, who she just naturally assumed it was. She called out to ask him what he was doing home, as it only late morning, bright and sunny, early Spring. The footsteps stopped at the open door, and mother turned, expecting to see my father standing there; what she saw instead was a man in a red tunic, with gold buttons, gold epaulettes, black trousers with red stripes, holding a white campaign helmet under his arm, waxed moustache drawn to points, and hair parted down the middle. This man stood in the doorway, smiling at mother, looking around the room, then turned and walked back down the stairs, the sound of his footsteps stopping half-way down. (I should explain, the house is built over 5 floors, father calls it Dracula's castle because the stairs are those 18th century stairs that spiral all the way from ground floor to top floor). Anyway, mother was rooted to the spot while he stood there, smiling at her, wondering how this man had gotten into the house, and why a soldier in full Victorian Redcoat ceremonials was wandering around our house in the first place. She carried me downstairs and checked all the doors and windows, all locked, and none of the dogs were acting up as they did when strangers came to the house. Mother had noticed that his helmet badge had a large '24' on it, and she told father all this when he came home. He immediately called the police, and a policemen came to the house, took details, and told father that he wasn't going to file a report, because this house was well known, this man had been reportd by previous occupants stretching back to at least 60 years. Father researched the previous owners of the house, and found a family who's only son had been killed in Natal, South Africa in 1879, at a place called Isandlwana, a very famous place if you were ever in the British army; it was where an entire British regiment was massacred by the zulu under Cetewayo. The regiment in question? The South Wales Borderers, also known as The 24th Regiment of Foot. We still own that house, but I've never been there except when I was a very small baby, have no wish to go there.

 

[Scentofawoman]

Usually when I sleep I sleep hard. I don't usually remember my dreams or quickly the are gone.

My coworker swore to us her house was haunted. She told us ther was a sealed off room in her house, and noises that would happen. Nothing malicious, just things. She has a husband and 3 kids in that house as well as 4 animales so if it meant to harm I think it would have done something to provoke the animals. I'm a strong believer in that animales senses with higher perceptions then humans.

Anyway one night 4 coworkers went to a concert and a bar we got drunk and walked back to Jill's house, the haunted house. 3 am I was, I believe, woken up to a man looking at me. He was tallish, his features blurry. I couldn't see the other 2 girls. He looked at my face and asked me in this crotchety old voice " what are you?" I automatically responded "I'm Indian. My parents are from India." He kind of floated away and I heard "Indian, eh?" It was so weird. I get like this when I'm drugged. I remember floating up like I'm looking down. I see the man kinda walk around the room, like he's thinking about something. I was terrified, I felt like he could really hurt me or something. I tried to wonder if it was a game. It was playing out like a movie. Guy turned and came closer to me like he's inspecting me. Everything was so clear but his face. My eyes wanted to dance away from him.
"Do you believe ghosts?" He asked.
I know I started freaking. I was struggling I had this force keeping me asleep in this state. Next thing I went into this black void. And honestly I started praying. I said 2 Hindu prayers and 2 christian prayers in my head. I blanked out saying them in my head.

I woke up to my phone Alarm next to my head going off. Right before I opened my eyes the mans voice was in my head. " you have a formidable mind. You are strong" I had goosebumps all over me.

I told my friend I'm not sleeping in her house again. I have goosebumps just writing this.