I used to work at an old courthouse that used to house a jail and there have been many murders, suicides, and other deaths there over the years. Much of the staff have reported scary things and the mind plays many tricks on you when your working alone.
Combine that with being an old building with its usual moans and groans and you get all kinds of crazy ideas.
Did this store have a PA system?
No. It was in NY.
When my father was in his early 20s, his mother passed from cancer. It was a long struggle, but she ultimately lost. My father was newly married & broke. So, they moved into an old farm house that was owned by the (extended) family but not occupied. It had no electricity or plumbing.
One windy winter night, cozy in bed, they began hearing a moaning, buzzing, humming sort of sound in the other bedroom. Dad got out of bed and investigated several times, but as soon as he walked into the other bedroom & closed the door, the sound would stop. He’d return to bed, leaving the door open. and the sound would start again.
Finally, he got sufficiently angry & cold. He got a chair, put it into the middle of the other bedroom, and said out-loud, “Alright, Mom. If that’s you, pulling me out of bed every few minutes, we need to talk about it. So, I’m not leaving again until we get this sorted.” Then, he waited. For a while. But, the key this time was that he’d left the door open.
So, the wind that was passing through an old (closed) window sill, vibrating a piece of aluminum flashing from the insulation kept blowing. He got a hammer, expressed his annoyance properly, and went back to bed.
I’m going with voice of God.
When people hear the voice of God, it seems that he’s always telling them something life-changingly important or profound. But I think that’s a high standard to to hold God to all the time. I don’t see why an omnipotent deity shouldn’t be allowed a few mundane and pointless moments.
When I was in London, for instance, and I was riding on the Underground, He kept telling me to mind the gap between the train and the platform. It was helpful advice. Thank, you God.
Although I’m not sure why he was speaking to me in the voice of a British lady.
I scared the crap out of my roommates once, many years ago, in one of our first apartments. I don’t remember exactly whether we were telling each other spooky ghost-and-serial-killer stories, or reading them out loud from a book, but it was one or the other. I do remember that it was a genuine dark and stormy night.
At one point, the lights suddenly went out. A little while later, they came back on. And I had disappeared.
No, my roommates didn’t find me a bleeding corpse in the bath tub, although, for some reason, that’s what they expected. They found me in my bedroom, napping. I had just gone to lie down without telling anyone, and apparently, no one had noticed. I couldn’t be arsed to sit around in the dark.
The brief blackout was obviously simply the sort of thing that happens sometimes in bad weather. My roomates were all really shook up, thought. Bunch of scardy cats.
Once, while sitting on the edge of my bed (I don’t remember if I was going to bed or getting up), I clearly heard a male voice call out my name as if he was there in the room, even though I was all alone in the house at the time. My rational self passed it off as some kind of auditory glitch in my brain, but I still had to check the closet and the hallway and downstairs, a bit apprehensively, just to be sure.
I think it’s well established that God works in mysterious ways.
How are your sister’s twins doing?
I think I have posted this a few years ago, but here goes.
I had an out-of-body experience. I was in a hospital room looking down at my body lying in a hospital bed. My leg was in a cast and I knew (how did I know?) that, as a practical joke, some friends had convinced the hospital that I had broken my leg and they put it into a cast.
Debunking: I woke up to realize that I was lying in a bed in a hospital with a kind of half-cast around my leg. I had broken the fibula in the ankle area and was using icepacks to reduce the swelling in the ankle area to the point that they could open it up, screw in a metal plate, and then close it up. Which they did four days later. So it was all real, save for the practical jokers. But the dream seemed so real!
I saw a ghost a few months back.
I was in a taxi, and as it turned a corner I saw, out the window, a jogger running on the footpath just a few feet away - except the jogger was made out of sweeps of rainbow-coloured light. After maybe a second he vanished. I looked back and there was no one on the footpath or the street.
Debunk: I had had about three hours of sleep out of the last thirty-six, and had spent most of the rest of the time sitting in the overcrowded mess that is an Irish emergency department, under pretty serious stress (everything turned out to be fine). When the taxi turned the corner, my overtired mind tried to make sense of the sudden change in the movement of light on the side window, and turned it into a jogger.
I’ve mentioned before the small child that I saw levitating her way down a NY street.
My immediate attempt at debunking: I had gone insane.
The actual explanation: Roller shoes. It only took me few seconds to notice. But those were some of the most disorienting seconds of my entire life.
I had worked a 13 hour night shift. I was driving home at about 6:30am, just before dawn. All of a sudden, from the right side, came the largest rabbit I had ever seen. It was absolutely enormous!! Four or five feet tall, five or six feet long!! It jumped out of the ditch to the center of the road in a single bounce!!
For the next second, my brain just exploded. That’s a HUGE rabbit!! I am going to die!! How would I explain to my family that I had been killed by a huge rabbit? What drugs am I on?
It jumped again, to the ditch on the left side, again in a single giant bounce. Then, as it ran off into the field, I finally understood that I was seeing a large deer - not a rabbit.
How my brain latched onto the “rabbit” label in that moment, I’m not really sure. But, happily, we all survived the encounter fully intact.
It’s all madness!
That’s a very good question… 
Bolding added to point out explanation.
"I often think about what does God look like, and there’s only one man who has ever seen God, and I said to him ‘what does God look like?’
He said:
She’s black!"
On another board some person said they were sure their parents house was haunted because the toilet would flush on its own. The people hired some sort of ghost hunter/spirit find person who came out, took their money, and indeed said their was a ghost involved and started this elaborate story. If they wanted to get rid of the ghost it would be additional money
I came on and said it might just be a leaky toilet valve but then, what sounds cooler - having a ghost or a leaky toilet valve?
The engineering building aboard Naval Air Station, Jacksonville, has been built as the chow hall during WWII. One night, I was in there alone, having been assigned to stand by as duty engineer during a rather critical project. As I sat in the mostly darkened office, hunched over some drawing on my desk, I distinctly smelled cinnamon! :eek:
Was there a ghostly baker at work?? :eek:
It took me about a minute to realize that my top desk drawer was slightly open and there was a nearly full pack of cinnamon Trident gum less than a foot from my nose. I will admit, for a few seconds there, I was a bit freaked…
Something happened when I was 12 that I can’t explain, but am assuming it was just a very strange coincidence.
My best friend at the time frequently had stories of strange things happening to her (seeing shadow-men, etc.), we both liked scary stories and horror movies, so we’d talk about things like that and creep each other out. All in good fun, though she was serious when she’d talk about stuff happening to her; I wasn’t there, I can’t debunk whatever it was she saw.
One night she suggested we play a game where you’d ask “Mr. Splitfoot” to do as you do, then you knock on something a number of times or in a pattern and you’d hear it repeated. It didn’t have to be something knocking back on the same object, you were just supposed to hear the same pattern of knocks from somewhere in earshot.
Well… we played it, and we consistently heard the same patterns repeated from somewhere outside, but far enough away it couldn’t have been someone below our window playing along. It sounded like someone hitting a dumpster somewhere else in the apartment complex, but only after we’d say the phrase and knock on the windowsill.
At the time we were convinced it had worked, and decided it’d be best to stop playing after a few minutes and we didn’t hear any knocking after we stopped. Very weird, I can’t factually explain what happened (we’d seen enough movies to know you don’t go looking for the source of supposedly demonic knocking in the middle of the night), but I have to chalk it up to a set of strange coincidences.
I used to see a woman in my condo; she had light brown hair that she wore in a bun. She was always dressed in what I would call old fashioned clothing—she was completely covered from her neck to her feet. She would always smile at me when I saw her and she was entirely non-threatening.
I stopped taking Baklofen and never saw her again. I miss her.
