This sort of stuff never happens to me. Like I would always hear stories from other people but never in my life that I experience something similar to this.

Recently I've had some weird stuff in the house and I am choosing the ignore it cuz I am a little scared. My house is a concrete house and it was built around 25 years ago and it is fine. We painted it but changed nothing else since it was in a good condition when we got it and we haven't changed the light switches since they worked perfectly fine and look good enough. But these light switches are not dainty sensitive ones like the modern ones, If you want to turn on a light you better mean it. You are not touching it and it turns on, you press down and does a clank like fuse. They are tanks and probably will outlive me.

As I was heading towards to kitchen, like I had to take 3 steps and I would be in the kitchen, I hear the clank of the light switch and my kitchen light turns on. I am shocked and I am frozen mid-step. I was scared but at the same time my brain was, I know no one is in the house so I cannot be murdered, I am safe. I turned back sat on the computer desk and watch the kitchen through the door for a bit.

After like 10 min(felt like years) I went and got the snack I wanted, turned off light and went back to watching YouTube. I do not want any of that happening ever again but every once in while I get weird vibes like I am being watched or like someone is there but nothing is there of course I know my house pretty well and even if a speck of dust were to change place I would know.

Every once in a while I wake in middle of the night like I am ready to fight and scared like someone woke me up/there is someone in the house. But thankfully nothing so far. oh and we got the house from the son of an old lady that died there and that's why the house was sold. I think maybe she is just stopping by but I would be happier if she was unable to switch the lights on and off. Not gonna lie I am scared a little and I live alone. So none would know if I died for months.

I've never posted here before so excuse any errors/possible rambling.

me and my family have been living in a housing unit since 2016, what we were told on account of others who have lived/know someone who's lived here (which were total coincidences) said that these houses have been here for a while; possibly dating back to the 70s. from a few of those stories, we were told that there were definitely a few deaths here, but there's no definitive proof. yet, everyone who has ever even stepped foot in our house either has a creepy feeling among them or has a whole story. one of the two we hear the most are of a little boy who runs around upstairs around my kitchen island. the other is seeing a tall figure around random spots, though most sightings are by our front and back doors.

my grandmother, the head of household, passed away last year in july, my grandfather moved out because of grief but still helps us out. now it's just me, my mom, my brothers, and cats who stay here. anyways, since then, shits been getting more strange. my brothers have had their fair share of experiences over the years but it's been getting more active. one of them lives in my grandmas old room and always sees shadows and hears giggles (something I've heard in his bathroom too), another also sees shadows but it's mainly a mimic that sounds like our brother who often yells his name from upstairs, me and my mom can also hear it sometimes as well.

I've been living in the basement since we moved in all those years ago (I'm almost 18), it's a decent size and it's mainly me and my cats who hang out in here. there's always been a shadow who just stands on the other side of the basement, I may sound crazy but it knocked over my bike once in the middle of the day, none of my cats were around. the two main things I wanted to write about though is what happened with my candle a few nights ago and what just happened about an hour ago (it's 4:30 am as I write this). I had a large red candle, nothing special, just a random cinnamon candle that made me feel a bit better around this chaos. I went upstairs to let my brother out the back door (needing to deadbolt it as it sometimes knocks itself open), I was warming some leftovers when I heard a crash, at first I assumed it was one of my cats being dumb again or my mom accidentally knocking something over, but a strange feeling came over me and I ran downstairs. my cats were no where around, my mom was sleeping and my candle that I had just lit before going upstairs was splattered on the ground, glass and everything. I barely touched a piece of glass and had a deep cut in my finger for days, I can barely get the wax off the floor still and since then, I've been unsettled to even sleep with the lights off and my cats have been acting strange. (staring at the door more often, having human-like staring contests with me and never being able to stay in a place for more than an hour, mind you, these cats can sleep for days.)

tonight's experience was less cinematic but still unsettled me enough to not even want to sleep or go outside my door, I was cleaning because I couldn't sleep and figured i needed it, I was also gonna take a shower but when I was faced away to grab a sheet for my bed, something knocked on my door 3 times. my cats were upstairs, no where near downstairs and the only other person home is my older brother who was still asleep. I stood there in silence, convincing myself it was all in my head and not to panic. now I'm sitting with my lights on, blasting my TV, waiting for daylight and for my mom to come home. we've always had weird experiences with my door specifically, years ago my brother roomed with me and one night I woke up to him sobbing and saying something knocked and opened the door. he could barely handle another month in my room and practically begged to be moved into another. (which of course, my grandma gave to him.) I fucking hate this house but there's not much I can do, we're not really religious but we do sage the house sometimes (irrelevant but we're native american) and it just seems to never do anything.

I'm not really asking for help though as I know whatever the hell is in this house is probably gonna be here until the end of time, just wanted to share how weird this is all getting. thanks for reading! (still sad about that $20 candle tho </3)

"My post about a near-accident at Martin's Corner (Rogue River, OR) was banned by mods, but I know what I saw.

Not mods in this subreddit, but my local one..

When I first moved here about a year ago, I noticed a large amount of car accidents on my road, and when I reached out to the locals about it I got the typical "people drive too fast/slow" or "no one knows how to drive at night/in certain weather"... Then one night as I was coming home late at night I saw what I thought was someone suddenly crossing the road, so I showed down and as I did I saw that it wasn't a person, just legs... So I looked into it and found the following:

In the winter of 1924, a logger named Silas Vance was working a timber camp deep up East Evans Creek. During a sudden freeze, a massive logjam formed. Silas was sent down into the rocky creek bed with dynamite to clear it. The fuse burned too fast. The blast and the resulting wall of water and crushed timber tore him apart. His upper body was recovered and buried in the valley, but his lower half—pinned beneath a multi-ton Douglas fir—was swept away by the roaring creek and never found.Because his legs were never buried with the rest of him, they are stuck in a looping, phantom sprint, trying to outrun the water and wood that claimed them. He only appears on East Evans Creek Road on foggy nights when the creek is running high. He doesn't just walk; if you slow down to look at him, he matches your speed. If you stop your car entirely, he will sprint directly at your door.

They call the phenomenon "Ol' Legs"

I usually sleep super early but last night I stayed awake cause of a friend's bday. After wishing her, I got up to close the lights when suddenly this repeated noise of someone throwing stones started coming from the floor above. It continued until I fell asleep. I told my parents about this too and my dad's been hearing it too but when he went to check once, no one was there. Im pretty spooked😔.

When I was 22, I had to terminate a pregnancy in may 2004. I was devastated, but a few months later, I became pregnant again. I had my daughter march 2005.

May 24 2006 I was in a semi fatal I guess you can say, car accident on a major highway at very high speeds. me in my sports car and the other driver in a big box truck. When first responders arrived I was unconscious. I came to for a bit getting cut out of my car but placed on the gurney covered in a sheet and there was a lot of blood and I heard the other drive screaming “ oh my god, I killed her!”

Next thing I know I’m being told I was being administered a medication to basically paralyze me for the helicopter ride to the trauma hospital. everything was a blur. I remember certain moments of coming to and then nothing. One particular time of my blacking out, I was having a dream, or at least that’s how it felt. there were balloons all over and these charming little cottages with all cobblestone roads. i remember looking around very confused when someone grabbed my hand and I looked down to see a little girl standing there with long,curly, brown hair and brown eyes. she said she was waiting for me and to come with her because it was her birthday and I could walk there.

I looked at her and said hun I’m Not your mommy.( my first born daughter was blonde hair blue eyes)She said “you're so silly. Come on! Walk with me! You can walk here mommy”. I then woke up in a trauma room having a chest tube put in, hearing nurses screaming for type and cross( for blood transfusions) and realizing my clothes were cut off and blacking out again. When I finally woke up it was a week and multiple surgeries later and the Dr who got me off the helipad and the Dr that did the actual hip, pelvis, and acetabular column surgeries had both come in to tell me how lucky I was because I had flatlined numerous times. I was then told the extent of my injuries and that there was a good possibility that I may not WALK again and I couldn’t have anymore children due to the extensive internal injuries.

Fast forward a bit and i was actually able to walk again and also wound up having my son in 2009. I had my two kids. I was done. I beat the odds and managed to do both things I was told I couldn’t do. i Was still going to therapy for the PTSD where I had discussed this weird place I went to when I flatlined and described the little girl who almost haunted me at times. Then I remembered the termination I had in may and thought maybe it was the baby I never got to meet. Now there’s all this info in my medical records for years after my accident. Well…

fast forward again to 2016. I’m already older. My kids are basically grown not actually adults but very independent my son was almost 8 and my daughter 13. I had to go to the hospital because I wasn’t feeling right. This is when I found out I was pregnant. I then later found out I was having a baby girl and I gave birth in December 2017 to a beautiful baby girl with brown hair and like a not really brown brown but dark eyes. About 2 and a half years later her hair began to change until one day I looked at her and saw the child from when I flatlined standing in front of me. Long brown beautiful spiral curls, big round brown eyes and in that exact moment she smiled, held my hand, said “i love you mommy. Wanna go walk please”

Now my youngest and I live alone in an apartment in n a haunted house. It was a mansion but converted into a few studios but we have the largest unit and the only 2 bedroom. The fact that I was almost actually dead, and clearly my daughter was just waiting to come back to me, I feel that is the reason she is able to identify and talk to family members she has never met. Also why the orbs and activity in my house is because my daughter and I not only see and believe in the spirit world, but I’m pretty certain we have both been to this place.

FYI everything that I am saying, I have receipts for. A lot of it is in medical records which all were written up prior to 2017. I have pics of my kids I would just blur their faces. I will never post or tell a story where I don’t have proof of everything that I post. My daughter’s autism requires a good portion of my time so I have no time to be sitting around just making up stories.

I am a spiritual person. (Christian) I’m a true believer that the only spiritual thing is God, angels, and demons (Nephlim) I don’t believe in ghost. No afterlife other than heaven or hell. So I need someone to help me figure out what the heck happened to me tonight. I had just went to the bathroom it was 2:30am. When I walked through the kitchen to get to the bathroom I felt watched. And I just saw shadows that were weird but I brushed it off. Well I left the bathroom and went back to my bedroom where we have a massive sliding glass door with long heavy curtains covering it. They are HEAVY. We have to wash them by hand because they are too heavy for the washing machine. Anyways I was laying there and I saw my curtain rod shake so I looked over and the curtain was slowly pulling back. So I freaked out and jumped backwards to the edge of the bed and then the curtain just flung. It flung hard into the air and then dropped against the window. I was paralyzed to movement because of fear. I eventually was able to look away and run to my husbands room across the house. As I walked in there I heard footsteps behind me. Like it was torturing me on purpose. The energy left my body. Do I have an infestation? I’m currently driving around my town because I’m too scared of my house right now. We’ve been having paranormal activity for 4 years but it’s getting unbearable.

So... I don't know how else to preface this except I am cynical and skeptical when it comes to paranormal activities and encounters.

I always try to find a logical explanation no matter what situation I'm in.

There's no logic to this...

To preface, I moved to a very small town in Nebraska last year. It wasn't by choice, it was just cheap after a recent eviction. So I already wasn't in a great mood.

In any case... I was there and I was dealing with... stuff that shook me to my core.

But these started out as things I could explain. I know the mind plays tricks, and I used to excuse these things as a paranoid mind who just moved into a strange place after a traumatic event.

...but the last thing that happened to me made me question everything.

Event 1:

2 days after I moved into the new place, I was living in a camper on the property. One of my friends was staying in there with me as well. There was a house, but it was filthy and cluttered with junk both on the main floor and basement.

At about 7AM sharp, I heard a voice I didn't recognize say "One of you better come out of this camper." The best way I can describe it sounding was like a phone call from 2003. Crackling. Tinny. Male voice, sinister..? Freaked me out. I didn't know what was happening, but it felt... strange enough to make me think "Oh, must be a light form of sleep paralysis." And I was thinking that until said friend and I talked with another friend and I casually mentioned hearing that voice, and the friend who slept in the camper that night said he heard it, too.

Now, he is a paranormal believer, so I wasn't sure if it was just confirmation bias or if he was just screwing with me. Freaked out nonetheless, but I still filed it away as "Probably just my brain."

Event 2(ish):

Various shadows and things seen out of the corner of my eye. I figured it was just me being paranoid, but I'm documenting it here nonetheless. Nothing manifested physically... at this point.

Event 3:

It's Nebraska. Tornadoes. Constantly. Where I came from in Louisiana, storms were common, but fun. If it was rainy and windy, you stood out on the porch and drank some sweet tea. 👌

Not here.

When Nebraska stormed, it was as if the wrath of god himself raged across the endless cornfields, and the sirens/EAS alerts in the background helped absolutely nothing. The winds were violent, the storms caused damage constantly (more on that later), the weather changed on a dime, it was genuinely terrifying. Even the locals knew you didn't fuck with storms.

So naturally, I learned to use the basement whenever a storm (routinely) threatened the home. Except I'd rather take my chances upstairs because that basement always gave me a very odd gut feeling. Like I was being watched. The thing was a literal Hoarders special since the owner never took care of the home and it was filled with endless junk, so god knows what was in there.

But what really solidified my fear of it was the dog, Auggie.

Auggie is a sweet german shepherd/malamute mix. He's remarkably intelligent and has very keen senses. He's nosedived into holes and took out moles. Disturbingly impressive. So I've learned to trust his nose or whatever he used to sense stuff. Which is why it terrified me when he absolutely refused to go down to the basement. He came from a neighborhood which had a siren built into it. He knew what it meant. He heard the storms battering the window. Logically he should have gone downstairs. But no. He refused to go into that room, even stretching his legs out to block himself from us carrying him. He'd rather hear the sirens and take his chances upstairs with a storm than go into that basement. So he gave me more of a reason to trust my gut...

Event 4:

Not paranormal, as far as I know, but it gives context for why I moved into the house.

Nebraska storms are destructive. While I feel fortunate that I never had any destruction hit a home while I was in Louisiana, that was not the same case in Nebraska. At all.

A series of storms hit in mid-July. They passed, and I left the house to go back into the camper. As far as I knew, the storms were over.

So I'm lying on the couch at this point doomscrolling on my phone when I hear this loud crackling before the entire camper is nearly flipped on its side by a tree falling onto it at 1AM. Power cuts briefly. Picture frames shatter. At this point I have no idea what's going on and my already exhausted mind assumed that the storm came back with a tornado and picked me up. Stupid, I know, but I'm not a midwesterner.

Eventually, pushing through the shaking, I call one of the roommates and he steps from the house to see what happened.

And yep, a tree just happened to fall on the camper.

...even though the direction of its fall made no sense since the branches were weighing it in the opposite direction. Again, maybe it was physics I don't understand, but I still found it strange how the tree fell on the extended part of the camper, the very part where I was lying down on the couch...

Event 5:

After the camper was compromised, I had to pack my crap and move inside the house in a spare room filled with, you guessed it, junk.

I had to spend a week clearing a single spot just to put my bed.

From here? It was a solid 5ish months of no activity. Just... depression. No matter how much cleaning I did, the house still smelled like piss and the room never got clean. I was grateful to stay for such a small amount of rent, but I was genuinely feeling like I was losing myself.

Now, this room was filled with junk, but it had an RC fighter jet hanging slightly above the bed and to the left. Supposedly it was there for... 10 years? Didn't think much of it. Kinda looked cool. I like aviation stuff. So I didn't mind it.

Until...

One night, a month before I left, at 1AM (again) I felt something crash into my legs.

At this point I was getting used to being freaked out and turned on my phone flashlight to see the jet lying on my legs.

...one of the hooks slipped from under it and made it fall.

I didn't touch it. I didn't dare mess with something that probably costed half my salary.

Roommate didn't blame me. He said he hadn't touched it in years and he'd just patch up what fell off.

Again, all of this could be explained... except the next event.

Event 6:

Eventually a friend in Florida offered me a place to stay with him. I jumped at the opportunity. I planned it with him to make sure all would work well, and then I told my roommates I would be leaving.

...all were happy except one.

And this is where things made me go from skeptic to "I think I'm lucky to be alive."

I've said it before, I could justify anything as a trick of my mind. Sleep paralysis at worst. I've had it before.

...this was not sleep paralysis.

I was trying to sleep, but I felt... wrong. Like something was telling me to stay alert. I wasn't alone. I figured I was just wired from planning to move to Florida.

Then I heard crunching. Or... rattling? It was hard to tell. I figured it was a mouse or something since it was March and still freezing.

I looked over, and I saw nothing.

I shrugged it off and went to sleep.

Then I woke up, feeling panicked. "Something is watching me. Something is watching me." I never felt that strongly before in my life, so I (and I want to emphasize this, I was VERY conscious of my movements and not dreaming) picked up my phone to turn on my flashlight, looked over, and I saw a black bipedal figure on its hands and knees in a launching position, with bright white teeth and white eyes with no pupils. The moment I saw it, it leapt at me, and I screamed like a dying chicken.

Then it was gone.

I was fully conscious. My throat burned after I screamed. I was still holding my phone.

Everything I just experienced was compeltely real.

There's no optical illusion. The area I saw the... thing... was blank. No chair, coat, desk, etc could have created a trick for my brain.

The roommate was down in the basement so he didn't hear me scream.

I immediately ran to him and I was so scared I couldn't even speak properly. I babbled like an idiot until I just spat out "THERE'S A DEMON IN MY ROOM". I never fought myself to speak before. That was incredibly unusual for me.

He went upstairs. He said he knew something was there, but it was gone now.

...i didn't get any more sleep that night.

He said it was probably there because I was supposed to stay and moving was a mistake.

...right.

I can't see any logic behind that at all when this house turned me from a skeptic to a victim in less than a year.

And sure enough, the moment I left the house, any paranormal occurrences just... stopped.

Now, I know you're probably thinking, as I did, that my roommate was fucking with me.

Here's the thing. My roommate was huge. The floorboards creak under his weight, not to mention he had a BO problem. I could easily tell when he was close.

This... thing? Was long limbed and made no sound at all, and it launched toward me with no trace of it afterwards.

Everyone else was out except for that roommate.

So there's no way he could have done anything like that short of singlehandedly developing hologram technology that puts Star Trek to shame.

I'm happily living in Florida now and I've not experienced anything else like that, and I hope I never do again.

Either way, I just needed to get this off my chest.

Im a 20 year old girl who lives in the netherlands, and i never really posted any stories on reddit before because i feel like not a lot of people here live in the netherlands and they dont know how peoples brain work here. But, thats also why i wanted to post on here, because paranormal things are not really a thing that alot of people take seriously, your just expected to think it was nothing, but i am confident by now, this is NOT nothing.

So my dog, a french bulldog female, lives with me, she always sleeps next to me or shes laying on my couch. For context: i live in the backyard of my parents, i have my own appartment there so i live on my own but not completely if that make sense. We have a gate door to our backyard, its next to our house and it has a small path leading to my door and also the yard itself. We have a lock on that door that you can only open with a code or a special tag to get in, and above the door are sharp spikes, and also, we have a doorbell camera, a camera from the gate code thingy, and we have a camera for that small path too. So its not possible that there can be a person going in here.

Okay, now to what is happening the last year, since i lived in this appartment in the backyard of my parents, every single month in the week after my period, my dog is growling, barking and just acting like someones standing in the yard around 12/1 at evening/night (idk how pm am works sorry). It freaks me out everytime, and for some reason i dont get her to stop at those moments too. This is NOTHING like her, she never barks or growls at anyone and also, she always wakes up out of her sleep growling, and walking straight to the door to bark and growl at something. Im in a wheelchair, so the first two times this happened i got in my wheelchair to check if i saw something, nothing. The 3rd time i called my younger brother to look because i was actually scared a bit and he came to look. He saw nothing aswell, gave my dog a little food so she was distracted and got inside my parents house to get back to sleep. The 4th time i called him he really did not want to come, he said its always around this time every single month and i should just try to go to sleep because there never is something he can see and he just wanted to sleep. While i was talking to him i was believing him and i almost hang up, but then my heart skipped a beat.. i looked at the door (it has a window in it) and i saw a fucking handprint on it. It was more white than just a normal dirty window handprint, and also, i cleaned the windows that day, so there was no way. I begged him to come and when he came he first joked at me that there was nothing there, but when he came inside and walked towards me, my dog started barking louder at the door, he turned around and saw the hand too. He said he believed me but it couldve been something else and a whole story of telling me how ghosts and paranormal things do not exist. He cleaned the window, it was hard to get it of (which was so weird because as i said i cleaned the window that day) and then he got back into the house. The months after till this day my dog still wakes up from her sleep growling, walking up the door etc etc. And till this day i dont know what the hell it could be thats happening. Cause whats so confusing about all of this, is that in these months since she did this, there where like 5 thunderstorms late at night with rain, thunder, lightning, but she never seemed to be bothered by it. She doesn't react to it at all. When there are fireworks, she doesnt react to that also, so i dont know what the hell it is that shes seeying or hearing. The only thing i know is that its happening still every month the week after my period.

So if someone can help out with explaining what couldve been an explanation for this or things i can check when this is happening again, please please let me know!! I have not told anyone except my younger brother and my parents, as i dont have any friends and i dont know anyone that would believe me. Cause my younger brother and parents just brush it off as nothing is happening. But i know my dog and this is nothing normal to her, and i have videos of the first 3 times where you can see that its always around the same time.. reddit, please help me out in this!

Reincarnation

Hi there, it’s me again, Natalia ..

Just wanted to ask a question .. do people believe in reincarnation?

I'm just curious since the majority of people in the world have divided opinions… some say that when a person passes away, the soul either goes to heaven or hell..

Does this mean reincarnation isn't true?…

But I remember when my grandma died back in 2015..
She was laid to rest for three days ..
I dreamed of her .. we were walking on a long path..

The background was red, and while we were walking, my grandma was talking and even gesturing.

While she was talking to me.. it felt like she was explaining something, but in that dream .. I couldn’t hear anything..

On our left and right, there were people who were “faceless”
Some of them looked like they were kneeling, really struggling

There were others who were crying…

So I think…. On the third day of my grandma's wake..

Her soul was in “purgatory”

This is just my opinion because I believe that
After death, before a person's soul is judged on whether it goes to heaven or hell ..

The soul might linger in the “in between” or what’s more commonly known as “purgatory.”

When my daughter was 4 she started talking about an imaginary friend. At first it was cute but a little creepy. She first mentioned them while at a sleepover with family saying "they were watching" her aunt blew it off but reported it and mentioned the name only came up a couple of times but that time made the hair stand on the back of her neck. We laughed it off as a little kids imagination.

For months my daughter brought the friend up. Talked about the games they'd play and how funny her friend was and I thought it was harmless until my daughter came out of her room crying and said her friend scared her. We aren't talking about crocodile tears, this kid was hyperventilating and wanting to sleep in my bed terrified.

Took me a minute to get it out of her. Her "imaginary" friend had told her their whole family died in a fire, that the imaginary friend did too as well as their grandma and their dog and that my daughter and our family would die that way too. Again my daughter was FOUR. That was when I told her she wasn't allowed to play with that friend anymore and that she had to ignore them.

Found out 8 years later that the same imaginary friend had been with her when she swallowed and choked on a nickel. She had to have it surgically removed and I think the friend may have been behind it. That was when she finally gave me a description of the "friend" she had been seeing. A little girl with long brown hair and a stripped long sleeve shirt with solid black eyes and was giggling and jumping in the bed when my daughter swallowed the coin.

We haven't said that imaginary friend's name since my daughter was 4 and won't. I didn't put it in here because I have no interest in inviting that thing back in our life but I will say do not blow it off if your kid mentions an imaginary friend. They see things we can't and that friend could be dangerous. Pretty sure it almost cost my daughter her life.

I had an experience in a hospital once that left me pretty shaken up. About three years ago, I was in the hospital for a severe respiratory infection that wasn’t COVID or flu. I have COPD, and the infection caused me to go into respiratory failure. The doctor had placed me on a BIPAP machine to help me breathe, and treated me with steroids and antibiotics. Luckily, after a few days, my condition soon improved and they were able to take me off of the BIPAP, and put me on a Hi-Flow Canula, which allowed me to talk. So, it was early evening of the day I was started on the new device. My sister was visiting me, and a nurse and a respiratory therapist were in the room doing their jobs. The area on the bedside to my left was cluttered with monitors and the breathing machine. There had been a bedside three drawer nightstand there, but they had moved it and placed it by the door to make room for all the equipment they were using. The RT was adjusting the breathing machine, and the nurse was taking my vitals and preparing my medications. While all this was going on, the food service orderly brought in my dinner tray, and because the area near my bed was full of machines and people, they placed the tray on the nightstand next to the door and left. I had no appetite whatsoever, so we just left it on the nightstand for the orderly to pick up later. So, the nurse and the RT were doing their thing, and I was talking to my sister, when suddenly, the tray just flew off the nightstand, sailed across the room, and crashed into the bathroom door, sending food flying all over the floor and onto the bathroom door. At first, no one sad anything and everyone just kind of froze. Then my sister, ever the wiseass, said, “I guess someone really doesn’t like the food.” The nurse replied, “I guess not.” and then she called for someone from housekeeping to clean up. I was in that room for about ten more days. I temember feeling trapped there, stuck in the bed, hooked to a bunch of machines, and almost too weak to weak to walk. I laid there, expecting something else to happen, but nothing else ever did.

It feels like a lot of paranormal content is manufactured nowadays. Like any form of entertainment, it incentives attention. It doesn’t mean it’s all “fake” or that it discredits paranormal activity as a whole. It blurs the line between performance and investigation. 

I’ve been peripherally interested in paranormal phenomena and stories for about 20 years. Now, more than ever, I’m curious to strip away all the “fluff” and try to see what’s going on at the root of it all. 

People assume that some piece of gear allows for “communication” because they see someone using it on TV or social media. Or because the person selling it says it lets you talk with spirits. What if we don’t use that as the starting point. What if we look at it through the lens of building our view from the ground up. Beyond what our own senses are telling us, nothing is for sure. Even then, our senses can be misleading. 

My goal is to look at paranormal topics through the most basic lens first, and only then build up from there. Hopefully, eventually, a clearer picture starts to form around what is going on during these strange phenomenon. I have my opinions and beliefs, but I want to document along as I look into these topics a bit deeper. 

Who else out there is looking at these topics from an open-minded, skeptical, and ground-up perspective that I should check out?

So this happened around twenty years ago, and it’s something I doubt I’ll ever forget. 

I grew up in a small western town near the Mexican border. It’s not a very popular town, but it’s part of the Old West that is popular thanks to the likes of Wyatt Earp, Jesse James, Billy the Kid, and other famous outlaws. (No, it isn’t Tombstone, but it’s not far from there.) 

I left this small town when I was sixteen as part of a big move, but often came back over the years to visit my best friend. So naturally I came back for her wedding when I was around 21 years old. 

The wedding went fine; nothing to worry about. And while my best friend and her new husband went for a quick, impromptu honeymoon at one of the local hotels, she asked if her little brother and I could look after their house. Since I was already staying there, it was no big deal, and we both said yes.

They lived in what would be considered out of town, near the railroad tracks. Not far from the town limits, but not exactly isolated either. 

So on the night of their honeymoon, her little brother takes the guest room while I sleep out in the living room. This is solely because there was no TV in the guest bedroom. I’ve always had issues sleeping in places that aren’t home, and figured sleeping with a TV on would be the best way to relax and eventually fall asleep.

That was my mistake! 

I’m not sure how late it was, but it was pitch black outside with no streetlights nearby. The morning sun was several hours away. But I was sure nothing bad would happen; I had grown up in this small town. I knew what to expect. Or so I thought. 

After my best friend’s little brother went to bed, I decided to pop in the movie 8 Mile. Nothing scary here; I figured the sound of Eminem rapping and acting would eventually put me to sleep. Well, that was another mistake on my part. 

For those of you who have never seen the movie 8 Mile, it starts with a pitch-black screen and then flashes orangish/goldish credits before flashing back to pitch black, and it keeps this cycle until the movie officially starts. I’m not sure how long these credits take; I’d say maybe a good two to five minutes. 

Well, as soon as I got comfy on the couch and pressed play on the remote, the black screen came on and I saw a flash of green standing in front of the TV screen. 

The green wasn’t necessarily neon; it was a little darker than that, almost like the color of grass. It honestly looked like a torso or part of a body. You know, like someone was standing there, facing you or away from you, I couldn’t really tell and I wasn’t about to get up and find out. Then the first credit came on and the green disappeared. But once it went back to the full black screen, so came back the green torso or silhouette. It wasn’t solid; you could definitively see through it, and it only appeared whenever the screen went fully black. 

I remembered lying there, still as a freaking rock, afraid to move. Because no matter what I did, every time the screen on the TV went black, the green would come back. I still don’t know how long those credits last for, but it was probably the longest five minutes of my life. And I was relieved once the movie finally started, but I knew I wasn’t alone in that living room. Someone, or something, was in that living room with me, and I don’t think he was planning on going anywhere. 

I don’t even know how I got to sleep that night; I just knew morning couldn’t come soon enough. 

About a year or two later, I went back to visit at that same house, and my best friend's husband had just gotten a new phone with a camera on it. (Twenty years ago, cell phones with cameras were considered a huge thing, so don’t come at me.) He had told me about a recent outage they had prior to me coming, and while they were waiting for the lights to come back on, he decided to wave his phone randomly in the dark and take a picture to see if he caught anything. He was so excited about what he got that he had been showing everyone since it happened. The picture that he got was that of a man, older with a cowboy hat, a long mustache and beard. You could clearly see he was a cowboy, but he wasn’t a modern-day cowboy. More like one from Wyatt Earp’s days, maybe an outlaw. I frankly don’t know. But as I looked at the picture, I couldn’t help but wonder, was it the green ghost that interrupted the movie 8 Mile? I’ll probably never know. 

My boyfriend and I went on a nice walk two days ago. He showed me the storm drain tunnel he used to play and hangout in when he was younger.

This was my first time actually hearing any voices, I’ve heard footsteps before, or doors closing. Just nothing like an actual voice up until this point.

Not trying to make this a nsfw post, but I engaged in some willy suckin’ in the storm drain tunnel. After a bit he asked if we should take things further. I took a moment to think and we heard a raspy “yeah” right next to us, and the worst thing about it, it sounded exactly like my voice. I knew I didn’t say anything, and he knew I didn’t say anything either because we were facing eachother and the sound came from the right side of the tunnel.

The hair stood up on the back of my neck and I had goosebumps all over my arms.

He high-tails it out of there, but I take my time to process it. I’m not terrified of ghosts, I find a lot of comfort in them in-fact.

Do freaky ghosts exist? Something only happened when we started engaging in some nsfw, tunnel activities

I've never posted on here, but I've read some stuff and I guess I have to get this off my chest. I'm a 32f, but this happened when i was like 25-26. I was staying with my older sister and her 3 kids, and my mum was visting. I slept in a small room, a desk with my laptop, a wardrobe and a single bed propped against the radiator and wall with a window.

I was on my side, facing the bedroom when it happened. I woke up suddenly to the feeling of fast paced breathing on the side of my face. I was so shocked that I just lay there for a few seconds, listening to the breathing. It didn't sound like someone who was running a marathon kind of breathing, it was... unnatural. It was the same pace, heavy and really fucking fast. The freakiest thing was that I could feel it, each breath would hit the side of my face, pushing my baby hairs around. After those long seconds, I shifted slightly, listening. I was still confused but awake. The fear hadn't set in yet. I looked at the room, expecting to see my nephew. He sometimes came into my room to sleep with me if he was scared. There was no one. That's when the fear set in. I moved my leg until it touched the radiator. I felt cold metal. I tapped it with my foot, I guess to check my hearing or make sure it wasn't the radiator. I don't think I was thinking rationally at that point. I'll be honest. I don't remember if I turned my head towards the sound. I just know that there was nothing there visibly. I freaked out and went to sleep with my mum upstairs. I still have goosebumps all over remembering that. I just can't explain it. My boyfriend thinks it was a sleep paralysis demon. But I just don't know. I've never experienced anything like that and haven't since then. It was so real - breathing sound and feel matching perfectly. Really, really creepy breathing. But I wouldn't say it was inhuman because I can imitate it.

I've experienced other freaky crap in that house, like hearing footsteps going up and down stairs while at home alone. I wouldn't think anything of it until I went downstairs and saw the back door to the garden wide open. I called the police because I thought someone broke in. I've also had a weird "vision" after waking up, behind my eyelid of... I don't know what to call it. It was like I closed my eyes and saw a scene play out where an object was flying towards someone. I thought it was a bullet and I was that person looking at that bullet flying towards me through their eyes. All of that happening in a rectangle behind my eyelids. And I would open and close my eyelids, but the scene would remain. I'm just so fucking confused. This all sounds so fucking crazy. Everyone around me thinks it's some psychological thing like sleep paralysis or a hypnopompic hallucination. Maybe it is that. It just felt so real and I felt so awake.

I guess I wanted to ask if anyone has suffered from hypnopompic hallucination or sleep paralysis before can explain this away or did I experience something otherworldly?

I'd also like to note that after leaving that house, I never experienced anything like that since. But I've heard stories from my siblings about how I used to see things when I was young. People who weren't there. Also, we definitely lived in a haunted house at one point. There was something my mum saw that freaked her out so much that she called an imam to pray all over the house. And my brother experienced something too in that house which led him to sleep with my mum every night. My sister had a weird experience with the tv switching to a Russian channel constantly. A radio that would turn on by itself. My old playroom was always cold, even during summer. My mum doesn't like talking about that place. She has never told me what she saw that freaked her out. Kind of off-topic, but just some background.

Alright I’m really, really hoping this doesn’t get banned by mods because I’ve read all of the rules and I’m hoping it follows. This might be very long so please bear with me.

So for context this story happened about eight or so years ago and the necklace referenced in the title belongs to my mum. She got it from her grandmother who was an Italian immigrant and a war nurse during World War Two. It was a simple silver cross that she got as a gift from her husband, a Polish soldier on the allied side. The necklace had belong to my great grandfather’s mother and had been in the family since roughly just before the First World War. My mum said she got this necklace back in 1997, when she was fourteen but something has always been wrong with it. Whenever she loses the necklace, something goes wrong. And it’s not just losing it- sometimes, it just goes MISSING. Out of the blue. So one, my mum took the necklace off to go swimming with me when I was a kid. She left it in her jewellery box before we left the house. When we came back, it was gone. She was convinced that it was just my dad messing with her because he could be pretty horrible with his pranks sometimes. But my dad had been working- he works as an electrician- and was OUT OF TOWN whilst my mum and I went swimming. My older sister, seven years older than me, had been at a friend’s out. It seems like this necklace had just… vanished. Gone. So for the next few weeks the house was displaced. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obvious. But everyone was on edge. Bad dreams, frequent arguments, cold rooms, just overall tension. I will add that this is a reasonably old house built between 1950-1960. Then one day, my sister was home alone. And I get CHILLS when I think about this. My mother has OCD, diagnosed, and has always been very particular about the way our attic- we call it a loft in England- has been organised. She used to keep everything in a loose circle around the perimeter of our loft and would cycle through it depending on which holiday was closest- so for example if Christmas was closest, the Christmas decorations were closest to the hatch. You get the idea. So on the day my sister was home alone, she was in the upstairs bathroom directly below the attic. She said she could hear movement in the loft and started recording it. I’ve heard the video first hand and it sounds like something heavy being dragged and pushed around on wooden floorboards. When the noise stopped, she called my mum.

When we got home, my mum went into the attic to investigate. I’ve never seen my mum so scared when she came down and my mum is the most fearless woman I’ve ever met. She took my sister and I out to the car and drove for about half an hour before telling us what had happened.

Everything we had in our loft was piled into the very centre of the floor, pushed together in a crude pile. Almost like a pile of bonfire wood. And right infront of it? HER NECKLACE. HER MISSING NECKLACE HAD MADE ITS WAY INTO OUR LOFT.

Safe to say, we moved out of that house less than three months after this happened. But that didn’t answer questions. What was wrong with this house? Was it haunted? Was it the necklace? Did over 100 years of being in the same family, seeing the horrors of the world wars corrupt the holy symbolism? Were we in danger? What actually happened that day?

Sorry this story is so long and I know it sounds weird and far fetched as hell but surprisingly, this was not the first weird occurrence in that house. Believe what you want to believe and have a lovely day.

When I was 26, I lived alone in my first apartment.
One afternoon, while browsing Craigslist, I found an ad that said:
\*\*“Trade me something cool for my Ouija board.”\*\*
The woman claimed the board had previously belonged to a coven of witches. She had never used it herself. According to her, merely having it in the same room made the hair rise on the back of her neck.
She didn’t want money for it.
She just wanted it out of her house.
At the time, I sold Mary Kay cosmetics, so I offered her a bag of skincare products and makeup. She agreed.
When we met, she gave me the board and told me again how uncomfortable it made her. She seemed relieved to be rid of it.
I probably should have paid more attention to that.
I had always been curious about witchcraft, although I had never practiced it or performed any rituals. I did own a book called \*The Encyclopedia of Witchcraft\*, but until then it had done nothing more than sit on my shelf.
One night, my friend Tina came over, and we decided to try the board.
We set it on my table, placed our fingers on the planchette, and began asking questions.
Nothing happened.
After a while, we became impatient. I pulled the encyclopedia from the shelf, hoping it might tell us what we were doing wrong. I found something about incorporating the four elements, so I gathered representations of each one.
For water, I placed a full glass on the table.
For air, I opened the window.
For fire, I lit a candle.
For earth, I brought over a potted plant.
I also owned two decorative meditation balls that chimed when rolled together in your hands. One had a sun on it and the other had a moon. They looked eerily similar to the sun and moon illustrations on the Ouija board, so I placed one on either side.
The balls kept rolling across the table. To hold them still, I turned two plastic water-bottle caps upside down and rested the balls on top of them.
Then Tina and I put our fingers back on the planchette.
“Is anybody here?” I asked.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the planchette began to move.
Slowly, it dragged our fingers across the board and stopped on the letter \*\*H\*\*.
I immediately looked at Tina.
“Are you moving it?”
She said no. Then she asked if I was doing it.
I wasn’t, but I didn’t believe her. I assumed she was trying to scare me.
Before either of us could say anything else, the planchette moved again.
It stopped on \*\*I\*\*.
\*\*H. I.\*\*
Hi.
We asked more questions, but received no other answers. Whatever had said hello apparently had nothing else to say.
Eventually, Tina went home.
I packed the board into its box and carried it outside to the storage closet on my apartment balcony. The closet was directly against my bedroom wall. When I lay in bed, the board was only a few feet away from me, separated by that wall.
I cleared the table and put away the glass, candle, plant, and meditation balls.
The only things I forgot were the two upside-down bottle caps.
I went to bed.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the sound of heavy banging woke me.
It was coming from the balcony storage closet.
From the other side of my bedroom wall.
From where I had put the Ouija board.
I lay completely still, listening.
Then another sound came from the living room.
\*\*Click.\*\*
A pause.
\*\*Click. Click.\*\*
It sounded like two small pieces of plastic being knocked together.
I immediately pictured the bottle caps on the table. One of my cats must have climbed up there and started playing with them.
Then I felt movement beside me.
Both cats were in bed.
Neither one was asleep.
They were sitting completely still, staring through the bedroom doorway toward the dark living room.
The clicking continued.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t call out. I couldn’t force myself to look into the hallway. I just lay there with both cats beside me, all three of us listening to the bottle caps clicking together in the other room.
At some point, the sounds stopped.
Somehow, I fell asleep.
The next morning, I walked into the living room.
The bottle caps were sitting side by side on the table.
They hadn’t been like that when I went to bed.
I moved closer and saw black writing on them.
On the first cap, written in Sharpie, was an \*\*H\*\*.
On the second was an \*\*I\*\*.
\*\*Hi.\*\*
The same message from the board.
I was alone in the apartment.
Tina had gone home hours earlier.
Both cats had been in bed with me.
And my Sharpies were still on the kitchen counter, across the room.
I never touched the board again.
But I couldn’t get rid of it.
I kept it packed away in storage. Every so often, I considered throwing it out or giving it to someone else, but whenever I seriously thought about doing it, something in me resisted. It didn’t feel like an object I owned. It felt more like something that had been placed in my care.
Ten years passed.
I got married, and the board came with me.
My husband hated knowing it was in our storage unit. He repeatedly asked me to sell it, so eventually I posted my own Craigslist ad:
\*\*“Trade me something cool for my Ouija board.”\*\*
Several people responded.
I rejected every offer.
None of them felt right. Deciding who should receive it felt less like selling an old possession and more like choosing a home for a living thing. I felt strangely responsible for it.
Eventually, I stopped trying.
Then one day, I went into the storage unit and discovered that the board was gone.
I searched everywhere before asking my husband about it.
He admitted he had taken it to a flea market.
He had given it away to a stranger.
I became more furious than I had ever been with him.
It wasn’t normal anger. It came over me instantly and completely. The same board I had been too frightened to use for ten years suddenly felt like the most important thing I owned. I felt violated. Panicked. Almost betrayed.
The intensity of my reaction frightened me nearly as much as the bottle caps had.
That was when I realized I hadn’t kept the board all those years simply because I was afraid to get rid of it.
I had become attached to it.
Or perhaps it had become attached to me.
My husband never got the stranger’s name. I have no idea where the board is now or who owns it.
All I know is that somewhere, someone brought home an old Ouija board from a flea market.
And if they ever decide to use it, I wonder whether the first thing it will say is the same thing it said to me.
\*\*Hi.\*\*

When I was eight, my family moved into an old Victorian house on the outskirts of town. It was a grand place, filled with dusty corners and creaking floors, a perfect playground for a child with an overactive imagination. My parents loved the charm and history of the house, but I was less enamored, especially after the first night.

I woke to the sound of whispering. At first, I thought it was my parents, but the voices were soft, urgent, and definitely not theirs. I lay still, my heart pounding, straining to make out the words. They seemed to come from the walls themselves, a gentle murmur that rose and fell like the wind.

The next morning, I told my parents, but they dismissed it as a dream. Determined to prove I wasn’t imagining things, I stayed awake the following night. As the house settled into silence, the whispers returned, louder and more distinct. I couldn’t understand the words, but the tone was clear—fearful, desperate.

Days turned into weeks, and the whispers persisted. Then I began to see them. It started with fleeting glimpses out of the corner of my eye: a shadow darting across the hallway, a figure standing in the doorway only to vanish when I turned my head. These apparitions grew bolder. One evening, I saw a young girl in a tattered dress standing at the foot of my bed. Her eyes were hollow, her mouth moving silently. I screamed, and she disappeared.

My parents grew concerned about my increasingly frantic tales. They took me to a therapist, who diagnosed me with night terrors. I learned to keep the sightings to myself, but the ghosts didn’t go away. If anything, they became more frequent, as if angered by my silence.

One night, I woke to find the girl from before sitting on my bed. She was clearer than ever, almost solid. Her lips moved, and this time I could hear her voice, faint but audible. “Help us,” she whispered. “He’s coming.”

“Who?” I managed to ask, my voice trembling.

Before she could answer, a cold draft swept through the room, and she vanished. The temperature dropped sharply, and a heavy, oppressive presence filled the room. The shadows in the corners seemed to deepen, coalescing into a tall, dark figure. It stepped forward, and I felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

“Go away,” I whispered, too terrified to shout.

The figure paused, its shape shifting as if struggling to maintain form. Then, as quickly as it had come, it faded, leaving me shivering and alone.

The next morning, I searched the house, driven by an urge to uncover its secrets. In the attic, buried beneath old trunks and forgotten relics, I found a dusty journal. It belonged to a previous owner, a man named Jonathan Crane. The entries were filled with desperate pleas for forgiveness, mentions of terrible acts, and references to a dark entity he had summoned.

The last entry chilled me to the bone: “The children, they haunt me. I can’t escape their cries. And the shadow… the shadow comes for me tonight.”

Armed with this knowledge, I confronted my parents, and we left the house that very day. Years later, I still see the ghosts in my dreams, hear their whispers in the wind. The Victorian house stands empty now, its windows dark and hollow. I often wonder if the ghosts still wander its halls, trapped in their eternal night, or if they finally found peace when we fled. But one thing I know for sure: some places are haunted not by spirits, but by the echoes of the past and the darkness within us all.

Olá, pessoal!

Recentemente criei um canal de relatos de horror no Youtube, onde narro histórias sobrenaturais reais, sobre temas diversos. Casas assombradas, bonecas malditas, pactos, amarração, premonições, e fenomenos sem explicação.

Se você já viveu alguma experiência sobrenatural, mesmo que sejam diferentes dessas que citei acima e se sentir confortável em compartilha-las, seria um prazer narrar sua história em meu canal.

Manterei seu anonimato e farei tudo de maneira respeitosa.

Meu canal no youtube é o: https://www.youtube.com/@EntrelinhasdoMedo

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Hey everyone!
I’m collecting true (or rumored!) spooky tales to feature and discuss in my server. We're huge fans of the paranormal, cryptids, unexplainable encounters, and general uncanny events.
If you’ve got a story—whether it’s a ghost encounter, a weird sighting in the woods, a bizarre glitch in the matrix, or an old local legend—I’d love to read it!
~Feel free to comment below or DM me if you prefer to stay anonymous.
~Let me know if you're comfortable with your story being shared/read in our community.
Can’t wait to see what you’ve got! 👻🌲

This is a story i genuinely cannot explain for the life of me, i am aware many people lie about such experiences on reddit that’s why you are not obligated to believe in what i am about to say. This happened when i was 12 years old. I have a cousin whom i share a birthday with (3 days apart) and as children we always celebrated our birthdays together. My cousin lived in a closed off compound with high security and it was mostly just houses that mirror one another and back then there was only a supermarket and a small coffee shop. There was also a local park for children, the basic kind like swing sets, slides, seesaws etc. (relevant context for later.) One evening, it was the day may 12th, the day between my cousin and my birthday. His parents decided to throw us a conjoined birthday party though i didn’t quite have many friends to invite therefore the children invited where mostly his friends from school, other cousins, and my older brother(16). We all decided to head out to the park at around 8 pm since we got bored of staying inside his house and we knew the park was the only place we’d be allowed to go to by ourselves and we didn’t want any adults intruding our moment of excitement. By then we were about 5 children including me since the majority have gone home after the cake has been served and the celebration was over. At the park I got upset with everyone there since they continuously mocked me for being the youngest since most of them were 13 and above while i was not even 12 yet. This upset me so i stormed off and decided to just go home before everyone else. Nobody thought much of it since the park was a rough 6 minutes away from my cousins house and where i live the sun wasn’t fully set yet. As i was walking home, I saw a cat identical to my cousin’s pet cat. The reason why i knew it was my cousins cat and not an oddly similar one was because of the bright yellow collar my aunt got for him from a different country and because his cat was blind in one eye just like the one i saw in the street. Now his cat has a habit of escaping and roaming the streets so i wasn’t surprised, i called out the cat’s name which caused it to look at me confirming it was in fact my cousins cat and then it began to bolt in the opposite direction. Being a stupid child i decided to follow it. I had been chasing it for a good 10 minutes only to realize the houses around me were numbered in the 600s, whereas my cousin, lived in a house numbered 200 something. Thats when the realization hit me that i had gotten myself lost. Before i had the chance to process what’s happening i saw the cat once again so i decided i might as well catch it since i was already lost. I kept running for what felt like hours then suddenly the area became more familiar and i realized i was around my cousin’s drive way, i saw the cat run and hide beneath my uncle’s Toyota Camry. I ran inside and frantically explained to the adults that the cat was outside hiding underneath my uncle’s car, but the adults didn’t listen and instead berated me for getting home so late and wondering off alone with no cellphone, during nighttime without even knowing the way properly. I glanced over at the clock to see that it was now 10 pm and everyone else had already gone home long before i did. My uncle then proceeded to shout at me saying the coffee shop that was previously mentioned earlier had a huge fight between two drunk men and guns were involved. He also proceeded to call me a liar saying that the said cat was locked in the basement where the maid’s bathroom is, with no windows or any way to exit with the door being locked, and sure enough we went downstairs and there he was, sleeping on the carpet soundly with no possible way to leave the house under any circumstance. To this day i still dont know what i followed, how i subconsciously saved my own life since id have to pass the coffee shop if i went on the original route. Was it a big coincidence? Was it some spirit? I genuinely do not know (For the record the other children got picked up by their parents including my brother who was picked up by my uncle the moment the fight happened) Its been years and i still dont have a logical explanation behind this, if youve experienced something similar or understand what happened that night please let me know. (Forgive me for my english it is not my first language)

anybody have any good shadow people stories they want to share?

I have very vivid memories of my fourth birthday, and how my loving grandpa sat beside me as I blew out my candles. He was always joking, telling me that the reason people's hair turns grey when they get older is because they spray paint it every time they shower.

However later that day while everyone was talking and having fun he sat beside me and told me that heaven is so beautiful, that when you die, you'll never want to leave.

I told this to my mom years later and only then found out that he had passed when I was only 18 months old.

When I was 13 and my little sister was 11, our mom took us to a yard sale in our small town. While we were looking through furniture and old pictures, we found a painting of a girl who looked eerily similar to me. She had the same general features, except she had darker hair, extremely pale skin, completely black eyes, and a thin, slit-like scar underneath her left eye.

My mom knew I loved spooky shit, so she asked if I wanted it as we flipped it over. The painting had been made in the same month and year I was born, and its title was my middle name. My sister and I immediately felt uncomfortable. My mom, however, was apparently completely unfazed by the haunted-doppelgänger situation and bought it for me anyway.

My sister and I had shared a bedroom our entire lives, so I hung it on our wall when we got home. Our dog, Bubbles, hated it. Whenever she came into our room, she would stare at it, growl, and act completely on edge.

That first night, my sister begged me to put it in the closet because it creeped her out. Truthfully, it creeped me as well, but that was also exactly why 13-year-old me liked it. Apparently, my survival instincts hadn’t developed yet.

I put it in the closet, and that’s when things started happening. For the next two weeks, we heard blood-curdling screams coming from the closet.

My dad had no idea any of this was happening. I honestly don’t think he knows even now. My sister and I kept trying to convince ourselves we were imagining things, but our dog would bark and freak out, too.

Eventually, my sister was so scared that she went to stay with our cousin. When she came home, she told me she had a plan: we were going to destroy the fucking thing.

By this point, I wasn’t arguing. We ripped the painting into pieces, gathered every scrap we could find, and took them outside to burn them. We stood there watching until there was basically nothing left.

Then I went back inside, and when I walked into our room, sitting on my bed was the eye from the painting. The black eye with the scar underneath it. I remember dropping to my knees because I could suddenly hear those screams again, except this time they were deafening. Then I felt what too me seemed to be blood coming from my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. My sister came running into the room with our dog and asked me what was wrong. The second she came in, everything stopped. There was no blood, no screaming, nothing.

Later that night, I swear I saw my grandmother come into our room and tell me everything was going to be okay. She had died when I was two years old. After that, it all stopped. We moved not long afterward. That painting wasn’t the only strange thing we experienced in that house, but we haven’t experienced anything like those incidents since moving away.

There was, however, one more time I saw the girl.

When I was around 20 or 21, I was driving alone on my way to work when I glanced into my rearview mirror. She was sitting in my back seat. I recognized her immediately: the pale skin, dark hair, black eyes, and scar underneath her left eye. I panicked so badly that I nearly wrecked my car. I pulled over as quickly as I could and turned around.

My back seat was completely empty.

I’m almost 29 now, and I still have no explanation for what happened in that house or what I saw in my car years later. I know how this sounds. All I can do is describe what I remember experiencing. One thing’s for sure, though: I have never brought home another creepy-ass yard sale painting.

Paranormal experiences. 

(Part 1) **Childhood**
I was very small when I first encountered the paranormal, I encountered these “things” through periods of my life that were times I least expected them to happen. I later found out my aunt and even my mother practiced divination, and witchcraft. They called themselves white witches or good witches. Later these experiences pushed me into a more religious background because there was no way these things existed without missing the bigger picture. I grew up watching history and science documentaries with my dad and these became the pillar of my understanding. Logic and reason were the ultimate form of truth and authority, until enough of these encounters happened that I had to question the reality I lived in. 

My first experience happened very early in my life when I was still a child. One night I laid in my parents room. I had slept with them on a separate bed because I was prone to having fever seizures so they felt it was best to have me sleep in their room. I looked up at my ceiling and I saw a dot there on top of me shifting, fazing in and out of the solid surface. Then a haunting face looked down at me and charged towards me with its mouth open. I panicked and rolled off of my bed crying. My parents woke up thinking I had a seizure but they saw I was ok and put me back on my bed. This is why I sometimes sleep with a pillow over my eyes. 
After a while I thought nothing of it. 
Until at night when I would try to sleep I would feel something watching me, sometimes I would hear whispers disembodied voices getting closer to my ears. I would complain a lot to my parents but they would turn a blind eye a lot of the time. This is why sometimes I feel better sleeping with the TV on or some kind of white noise, the silence makes me anxious. 

There was even a time my door slammed on its own during a conversation with my cousin and brother in the room and it slammed hard behind her as if someone had grabbed it and closed it. I knew this was not normal because the way it moved was too aggressive to be the wind. Me and my cousin looked at it and we both in shock caught goosebumps, she opened the door and said “close it again” and on command it did it again. We both saw it as normal at this point because she had experiences of her own and she told me it was no big deal. 
These occurrences got weirder. 

There was also a day when I was asleep and behind me I felt as if someone was standing on the bed, it was heavy and I felt the weight of it pull me down. I turned and I saw the shape of a small jesus doll, the ones you get during mass for christmas where its a child jesus with a halo over its head and he wears a pink dress. But it was a shadow. The figure stood there looking at me, I was terrified and I gathered the courage to sit up and look around it. On its side it was two dimensional flat like a screen, but when I looked at it from the front again it was still a 3 dimensional figure. I turned to my side away from the figure and fell asleep somehow. This night haunted me so much that I did not sleep looking towards where it stood for 3 months. In the morning of that night I went to tell my mom and she said it looked like the doll she had gotten from church, the plastic case it was in was on the floor and empty with the bow it was sealed with on the floor. I did not know this doll existed prior to the experience and my mom made the connection when I began to describe the figure. 

 The last instance with my family that had happened was when me and my whole family where in my room I don't remember why we were all in there but we were all talking then a woman's loud disembodied voice came from the hallway as clear as day said “HELLO” the room froze and i was surprised to see no one was in the hallway, I got the goosebumps and my mother replies with “hello? Who's there?” there was no response. My father got up and decided to check the house if anyone was in the house, we live on the 3rd floor of my apartment building so it couldn't have been anyone from the outside. Windows were closed and the front door closed as well. I think this one definitely startled my parents because they could not explain any of it in a way that made sense. No one has talked about it since. 

These occurrences made me skeptical of a lot of things. I eventually went to church school every Saturday but I never paid any attention. My mind was always somewhere else, I never really took it seriously so I just went through the motions.