I was sitting on a recliner in my living room at 3 am watching a horror movie. I was covered in a soft blue sheet which laid pretty flat because I was pointing my toes forward. Suddenly, my dogs tail starts to rise from underneath the blanket which creates a sort of tent at the edge of the recliner. I say to my dog, “what are you doing there weirdo” (I don’t let them near recliners because a puppy had clipped his ear near one and I didn’t want a repeat) and I lean over to look at him.
I look over the edge of the recliner and suddenly the sheet drops flat back to my body. My dog is across the room, sleeping quietly with my other dog. I calmly turn off the tv, go to my room and sleep.
Went on a pub crawl in my early 20’s and wound up at a bar my buddy’s dad ran. I had gotten extremely drunk to the point of seeing the ceiling spin (I was laying on a pool table. That drunk) and quickly ran into the men’s washroom to up my guts.
Once I starting throwing up in my somehow locked bathroom stall, someone started pounding on the stall door. Like, ramming it at a run at one point. In between mouthfuls of vomit I kept politely responding with things like: “one minute!” or “buddy, just let me finish spewing!” …to more traditional angry expletives.
After a particularly hard slam that really tested the shitty turn lock I angrily shouted: “If you don’t fucking stop I’m coming out there and beating the ever living shit out of you!” (Probably more like “ifshoe don staho I’m gunna fukya up!”)
I burst out of the stall in the most intimidating way possible in my shittered state and absolutely no one else was in there. I ran out to the friends I was with asking where the guy who went in after me was and they told me no one had followed.
A while later I talked to my friend whose dad ran the place and told him the story. Mentioned maybe some of his dad’s employees were dicks. He just kind of looked at me kind of spooked and said “Yeah, apparently that place is haunted as fuck. The men’s washroom especially. People don’t go in there alone because of it. I think you told a ghost you were going to beat the shit out of it.”
I probably shouldn’t be reading this when I’m cat-sitting at a creepy house on my own tonight.
I have a couple but this one is significant.
One night I had a dream that my great-grandmother (looking like she was in her 60s) and a man I didn’t know were in my room. My great-grandmother waved at me and the man smiled. He had his arm around my great-grandmother. Then that was it.
The next morning my mum called me asking did I have a dream about my nanna. I said, that’s odd, yes, why?
My grandma called my mother first thing and said she had a dream about her parents that felt so real. She sat up in bed and my great-grandmother and my great-grandfather (my mum sent photos over later – it was the same man. He died before I was born) were at the foot of her bed crying. My great-grandmother went to walk forward but my great-grandfather put out his arm to stop her. They waved and left.
My mum said she was struck…because she dreamed about them too. She said that they were younger – in their 60s. So they decided to call my aunty – lo and behold my aunty and my cousin both had them visit them too.
My sister messaged me saying she had a dream about nanna and papa last night and was really sad because she missed them. I called her and told her about everyone else’s dreams.
Normally stuff like that freaks me out but we all felt touched and connected.
There was nothing significant about the date it happened though. No one’s birthday, anniversary, deathday even. Nothing. We’re still wondering why that night.
This may very well be my sad projection as a child, but my father was killed in a car crash. His very jealous friend hit him and delayed calling for help. He made a pass on my mom 3 days after. My family was devastated. I’d lie awake at night and ask my dad to come back. On this particular night, I was sleeping on the couch because my dad sometimes fell asleep there and I missed him. I was trying to be quiet while hiccup sobbing that I missed dad.
I felt someone stroking my hair and assumed it was my mom who woke up to comfort me. I didn’t want to look at her because I was ashamed and she just kept stroking my hair. When I finally turned to look up because I got my tears in check, no one was there. I went to my parent’s bedroom and my mom is snoring like a rhino. It wasn’t harmful but it was a different experience.
I’ve had several experiences over the course of the years that could be termed “paranormal” for lack of a better explanation at this point, however, this location was the source of most of them.
Twenty-some years ago, I was living near the Canadian border alone in a rented log cabin. It used to be part of a fishing resort and had been renovated since it was built in the early part of the century. The cabin was approximately half a mile from the nearest neighbor, and fifteen miles from the nearest town, so I had gotten used to isolation fairly early on.
At the time, I was working p.m. shifts at a resort twenty-five miles away and wouldn’t typically get home until well after midnight. On this particular night I had gotten home, put on pajamas and gone into the kitchen area to was dishes. I was standing in front of the sink, looking out the window onto the woods when directly behind me, just above the height of my head, there was the sound of a man’s whistling. Just two notes and then nothing. I positively froze. I looked in the reflection of the window in front of me and saw nothing. Very quietly, I wrapped my hand around a totally inadequate knife that was in the sudsy water and turned around. Nothing there except for my two cats sitting by the wall looking directly into the air behind me where the whistling had come from.
This kicked off many extremely odd experiences in that cabin that continued until I moved out some six months later, but that one was by far the most shocking just simply because it was completely unexpected. I spend a great deal of time alone in isolated locations, but since that evening I have thought long and hard about what it means to be a woman alone in the woods from a safety perspective.
Edit to add the rest of the story by request:
Ok, now that I have a few spare minutes I will fill in some more on the cabin situation.
The original part of the cabin was simply a single room, all log and un-insulated, with a wrap-around enclosed porch on two sides of it. At some point, a large bedroom and a bathroom had been added onto the north side of it (also un-insulated) and a deck outside overlooking the lake. In the time that it was a fishing resort, however, it was just the main room and the enclosed porch.
The episode described in the above post was the first occurrence and happened within two or three weeks of my moving in. Thereafter, on a fairly routine basis when I was in the bedroom, the sound of muffled voices could be heard in the main room. They were clearly those of a man and a woman and sounded conversational, though the words were muted. While I didn’t love it, I was content to let it be. I rationalized that any woman cool enough to be at a fishing resort at the turn of the century was probably someone who I would have gotten along with, and aside from the whistling, nothing specifically directed toward me had happened.
Then came the sound, again muted, of periodic music and singing. Less cool, but I assume some pretty good parties had been had at that place back in its day and it was always quiet and always from the main room. Nothing intruded into the bedroom.
Then small items started to go missing, which is tough to do in a cabin with essentially two main rooms and a bathroom. They’d always show back up, but in improbable places. Finally, I got fed up and asked aloud that the two of them stop taking things, and also added that while I knew they were there and was content to let them be, that they not show themselves to me. I knew that if I actually saw something that would be the immediate end of my residence there!
Finally, the day before I was set to leave for my family’s place for Thanksgiving and my landlord was set to head south for the winter months, I was again standing in the little kitchen area when I heard the sound of a door slamming and a woman’s laugh. Except this time it came from the bedroom. Well, shit.
After I finally calmed down and got up the nerve to go in there (it was my room and there was no one else living there to be brave for me) I found that one of the closet doors had been slammed shut. Moreover, it had been locked and I had no way to get it open. In fact, I hadn’t even been aware that it did lock. I got on the horn to the landlord, hoping to catch him before he headed out and asked him if he had a key for the closet. He stated he did not and said that they had never locked the door for that very reason. He gave me permission to break the lock if I needed to and let me know that he’d fix it when they got back in the first part of March.
I had exactly no intention of breaking a lock on that door after it had been slammed by “something” and spent a very uneasy night before heading out for Thanksgiving early the next morning. There was absolutely nothing I needed in there that badly!
Before leaving, I stood on the porch with the front door open into the main room and announced to whatever may have been listening that I damn well expected that door to be unlocked and opened by the time I got back the following week, did not appreciate the intrusion into my room, and, in short, would tolerate no further fuckery. (It should be noted that I had no idea at all what I would have done if there was further fuckery, but I was annoyed, leaving and it seemed like a safe time to get stern).
I arrived back the first week of December and unloaded my belongings. The house appeared to be undisturbed. Upon entering my bedroom and putting bags down, there on the wall by the closet hung a small, old key.
I moved out two months later, when the plumbing froze solid for a week and my landlord couldn’t be contacted in Florida. In that time, no further disturbances occurred. I did try the key in the lock and it did fit, but I never did unlock that closet. Any clothing I had could just stay right there for eternity as far as I was concerned.
I did have roomates in with me to split rent twice during the time that I lived there; they using the main room as a bedroom. Neither of them stayed a complete month without specifying why they left, though one of them did mention the voices to me several years after the fact.
I would love to find out more about that specific cabin. It is possible to find information about the old resort, but not the specific buildings. That area was remote when I lived there and must have been far more so when they were in operation. I will probably never know what went down there back in the day, but I have my theories.
Mines quick and simple. I always believed in some type of “after” and heard many stories of people who aren’t bullshitters experiencing something. I was in my garage talking to my girlfriend who was standing I’m the doorway entering the house. About ten to fifteen feet behind her was our downstairs living room that has a sliding glass door and stairs going to the second level. Her brother walks in with a little girl with blonde hair following him… We all have small kids but I know all the friends and playmates they have and didn’t recognize her. I inquired to my gf as to who the fuck was that little girl… She goes and checks it out and he comes down with a big grin. He’s known to see spirits and I believe him without a doubt because the guy loves to talk to me about FUCKING ANYTHING… However he doesn’t bring up his “gift”. He just doesn’t talk about it. Anyway he says that there’s a little blonde hair girl who lives at the house… She’s always around.
Sorry for the formatting, I’m on my cell. So a year later my gf has my son premature and we end up staying in the hospital for a while. Her brother stays at the house and tells us that “Emily” is really sad and he can tell she’s nervous and wondering why we aren’t home. My newborn gets better and we head home and walk in and you can just feel this heaviness just vanish followed by a very happy feeling.
So in short I have 5 kids total. 4 are biologically mine and of this world and the fifth is Emily and she’s by far my best behaved. My 1 and 3 year old will be very hyper running around and I have to announce to Em that it’s time for bed for everybody. They instantly crash. She’s a good kid. I don’t want to open any doors so I’m not looking into the history…
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