Share your weird experiences

In My Humble Opinion
1

OK first of all I want to state that I am an atheist. I do not believe in any god or afterlife.

Last week I was looking at TV at about 9pm and decided to go to the toilet. Upon leaving my front room I entered a small hallway which has 3 doors off it, the bedroom, the toilet and the front door. I live in a one bed apt.

When I entered the hallway I was nearly knocked over by the smell of incense, if you’re a Catholic you’ll know the stuff I mean, it’s the stuff that is in the incense burners that priests use at mass, funerals etc. It’s got a very distinctive smell. A shiver ran up my spine and it seemed that the hallway was significantly colder than my front room. I had no heating on at all BTW.

I checked out the bathroom and bedroom and no smell was to be found and the temp seemed higher than the hallway. I checked outside the front door and again no smell and the hallway temp seemed higher

The only thing in the hallway is a fuse box which I checked. This didn’t seem to be the source of the smell.

I’d smelt that stuff very recently at my grandmothers funeral. I was very very freaked out by it. I went back to my front room and looked at the TV to take my mind off it. An hour later I checked again and there wasn’t a hint of a smell of coldness. I did not sleep one wink that night.
I don’t have a clue what happened. Maybe it was all in my head I don’t know but it sure spoilt my night.

Any of you care to share their freaky experiences or debunk mine.

2

That is, the hallway temp outside my apt. seemed higher than the hallway in the apt.

3

My son comitted suicide in 2000. He and his wife were found hand in hand in bed. She was breathing he was not. I had to go sort out his affairs and such.They lived in Los Angeles.
Early on the day of his memorial I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go get coffee for my husband. It was 5 am on Saturday. Our hotel was accross the street from the coffee shop. There was a traffic light in the middle of the block for pedestrians. Being so early, I thought I’d just cut accross, not waiting for the light. Just as I was about to step off the curb, I had a vivid memory of my son putting his hand on my shoulder, and saying "Mom, this is LA, wait for the light. " Just then a car having lost its brakes, flew through the light.
The next day I was going through some of his things. He had a "signature " T shirt I’d given him. It said “Runs With Scissors” I said to my husband “If I could find that shirt I’d frame it to retire his life jersy.” I looked down and my hand was on it.
When we returned home, and I went back to work, one of my tasks each day was to pick up mail at the post office. As I was driving back to the office, I looked up into the clouds and noticed a perfectly round hole in the cloud cover. Inside the hole were fluffy clouds that spelled “MOM” I cried (again) .
Two days later, again I saw very distinct letters forming in the clouds. First an H then an E then L then P- HELP. Out loud I said “Help Who?” a P formed. I got back to the office shaking. By this time his wife was out of the hospital. Her first initial is P. I called her, but all was well. My husband’s first initial is also P so I called him. 30 seconds after he answered we had the biggest earthquake we’ve had in years. He’s a firefighter, so he had to go to work. I didn’t see him for almost 3 days. That call allowed him to go to work, knowing I was ok.
Months later, I was still crying most of the way home each day. I said out loud. “Michael, I need to stop crying, I need somthing to smile about.” Just then a bald eagle flew directly across my field of vision. I live in the city, it isn’t unheard of, but it is a rare and beautiful site.
After that day, I never again had the feeling he was standing just behind me.
One other thing. His wife was not expected to live. The doctors told me she had no organized responses. I stood at her bedside talking as I talk to any of my unconscious patients. I told her I would wash her hair, but couldn’t put make up on her. She frowned. I moved to the other side of the bed. She turned her head toward me. I asked her to open her eyes. She did. I asked if she knew who I was. She nodded. The doctor was speechless.
He said not to be too encouraged, she wouldn’t be able to talk.
Later she pulled her breathing tube out and asked to go home.
She wouldn’t believe that Michael was dead, nor would she believe it was July. She was sure it was Christmas, because the night before she’d seen Michael. He was standing before a stained glass window with bright sunlight through it. He was hold out a gift to her.
Today she is completely back to normal, actually better… she’s no longer depressed. The doctors held little hope for any recovery. The CAT Scan and MRI of her brain showed large patches of damage in speech and motor areas.
I can’t explain any of it.

4

Touching story, picunurse. Wow!

Okay I have a strange story. When I was about 13, my family stayed over with friends one night. The friends had 2 daughters and all us kids slept downstairs in the basement.

So we turn out the lights and the place is completely dark. Couldn’t see for squat. Suddenly we hear this noise, like somebody sliding back and forth across the carpet. We ask each other who’s making that noise and it isn’t any of us. I’m not sure what happened next. I must have fallen asleep despite the spookiness of the situation.

Later I woke up and had to take a leak, and it was still too dark to see so I asked them to turn the light on. No response. I asked again, turn the light on. No response. So I blindly fumbled my way to the bathroom, finished, and fumbled back to bed.

The next morning, the girls are already up when I awake. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But then later my parents tell us that they heard noises. They thought we were playing with the screen door, until the girls ran upstairs screaming “THERE’S GHOSTS IN THIS HOUSE!”

I am a light sleeper. Usually, you can wake me up by standing in the doorway and whispering. No way I would sleep through the racket caused by a screen door, let alone the two of them yelling and running up the stairs.

To this day I have never figured out what happened that night.

5

Thank you for sharing that with us picunurse

6

Another wow picunurse, and I am so sorry for your loss.

I have a weird story that was told to me by a friend years ago. Just a disclaimer in that he was not one to buy into creepy stuff but was very, very certain this had happened.

Well, his brother had had some “problems” with drugs but nothing severe. In fact, I think the extent of it was that it was one of those families where everyone was extremely straight laced (my friend included) and his brother smoked pot. So I say “problems” because the family regarded him as kind of a drug addict but I don’t think that was accurate.

Anyway, the brother always maintained that their house was haunted but everyone just kind of blew it off because he was the pot smoker. So, one night my friend is lying in bed (the only people in the house were his sister, his mother and father) and he hears this familiar jingle on his door handle. His mother always ironed his shirts for him (what can I say, he was about 19 and living at home), so this jingle was familiar in that it always meant she had left shirts on his door.

The jingle made him look in the direction of the door and he saw a black figure coming towards him. He never heard the door open, his eyes had been closed (he swears he was not asleep) so his room was pitch black and all he saw is this black blob comin’ his way - enough for him to be extremely startled. By the time he got his wits about him, it was gone.

Three things struck him (and me) as extremely weird. First is that he clearly recalls his clock on his desk across the room (you know, it had red lit numbers) being obstructed when black blob passed in front of it. Second, right after that, his sister came into his room and asked what the hell had just happened because she had a similar experience although I don’t think a blob was involved. (I cannot remember the details of what happened with her). Third, there were no shirts on his door.

Again, he was really a run-of-the-mill kind of guy and this is probably one of the only “ghost stories” I believe.

7

When we were children, (my sisters and I) used to live in this house, an old Victorian in Lincoln Park, in Chicago. In the front bedroom, each of us had the experience of sleeping in that room and hearing noises.
It wasn’t just noises, it was “voices”? I don’t know, it was LOTS of voices, like a cacaphony of sound, voices talking, laughing, screaming, crying, all at once. It was horrible.
We, at the time, would just join the other two kids in the other bedroom and climb in bed, the “are you guys still awake?” kind of thing. I was the youngest, and sometimes I would just leave the bedroom and lay on the floor in the diningroom by the heater.
I know this sounds weird, (really weird, since I’m not religious) but sometimes I would pray, pray for them to stop talking, and they would, WHILE I was praying, but as soon as I stopped, it would start again.
Anyway,
Years later, as we all talked about the old days, and we all discovered that we had experienced the same thing, the “voices” in that room. We thought it was the house, you know, maybe a ghost or something like that.
Well, we had our Dad over for Thanksgiving, and we were talking about family history, because I’m working on the family tree.
He told us, just this Thanksgiving, about his sister Carmen, who killed herself in, like 1940 or so, when he was about 15, (she was 18 or so) because her parents wouldn’t let her marry her boyfriend.
He said they came home and found that she had poisened herself and his father took her to the hospital in PR and he and the rest of the family waited at the house.
Sometime in the middle of the night, his mother heard people, a lot of people, coming to the house, and she opened the door to look, thinking they were coming back?
There was no one there.
His sister died in the hospital and he never saw her again, I guess those days being what they were, they had no funeral, maybe because she was a suicide?. I don’t know. All I know is when he said what his mother heard, I was like “oh, that noise, I know that noise” and it scared the crap out of me.

8

picunurse:

I’m very sorry to hear of your loss, and I’m glad you had those experiences. My heart goes out to you. You are actually not the first person I’ve heard who have seen things in clouds in that kind of situation, so it was really interesting to read that.

I am curious, though, why the wife was also in the hospital and why she wasn’t expected to live? If it’s too personal, please forgive me.

9

myrnajean, have you considered looking up the home’s history, to see if something catastrophic happened there?

10

Two stories from friends of mine in Tx. Not the kind of folks who would pull my leg. I have several stories of my own (having lived with ghosts for as long as I can remember), but these are considerably more interesting/freaky.

Story #1

Back Story: The house my friend Jeremy lived in until about a year ago used to be owned by an extremely obese agorophobic man, before his parents bought the house. When the family moved away, said man wanted to stay (remember, agorophobic). So, they send a check to a neighbor to buy food for the man every week. After a few months of this, the neighbors stop buying him groceries, and just keep the money for themselves. Eventually, the man starves to death in Jeremy’s room. When the family comes for a visit, they find him, looking as any person who starves to death would.

Creepy bit: Jeremy’s awoken by . . . something. When he looks at down, there’s a thin, pale man floating a few inches off the floor by the foot of his bed. He turns on his light, and the guy’s still there. A few seconds later, the man opens his mouth like he’s screaming, but doesn’t make a sound, and just kinda . . . slides sideways to the door and goes through it. This guy was as visible as a normal person, not transparent or glowing or anything.
Story #2:

My friend Kate and her boyfriend Dan go to this old, creepy looking house they’ve passed by a few times. So, they go in and wander around. In the ceiling of the living room is what looks to be a hole cut in the floor of the room above with a chain hanging from the ceiling of the 2nd floor room. When they get to the basement, they start to go down the stairs, but then they both start freaking out with “don’t go down there” vibes. Dan starts saying things like, “There’s a little boy down there Kate, we have to go help him.” (Kate and I have a hard time not thinking that he’s kinda ghost-senstive.) Kate’s freaking out bad now, and convinces him that they need to leave, NOW.

That night, Dan’s sleeping over at Kate’s. He wakes up and sees this little cut-up kid standing at the foot of his bed. He freaks out, grabs his pants (he sleeps nekkid) and runs outside, screaming. So, he’s nekkid and screaming at 3 in the morning. Kate and her family run outside to see what’s upsetting him (Kate didn’t see the boy). He puts his pants on, and they finally manage to calm him down. But then he looks up into the bedroom window, and he sees the little boy standing in the window, holding a knife. Screaming reinsues. After about an hour, they calm him down enough to go inside and sleep on the couch.

The next day, Dan and Kate go to Dan’s family reunion, and don’t mention anything about the creepiness, since Dan’s mom is an abusive uber-Christian. Dan leaves Kate alone with his mom for a few minutes, and she pulls Kate to the side and tells her that there’s a little boy following him around. Freaks Kate out, since they hadn’t mentioned anything about it.

That night, Dan has a dream about the little boy.

This part’s kind of graphic, so I’ll put it in a spoiler.

In the dream, the little boy tells Dan that his parents would tie him up, hang him from the chain in the living room, beat him with golf clubs, and then leave him in the basement.

This wakes Dan up, who can’t sleep for the rest of the night. That morning, Kate decides that they need to go back to the house and look around. Y’know, put the spirit to rest or something, so he’ll stop bothering Dan. So, they drive to it.

When they get there, the house is gone. :eek:

Not just gone, but the lot looks like there was never a house there. Not that it’s been torn down recently, but never there.

They know it’s the right lot, because all the trees look right, just . . . without a house between them.

Just to make sure, they drive around, hoping they were on the wrong street or something. They drive around for 2 hours, but they never find the house. The houses on either side of the lot are the right houses, but it’s just not there.

Now, most of this story (aside from the dream details and the layout of the house) can be confirmed by Kate mom, aunt, and grandmother. So . . . yeah. True. And fucking creepy.

11

It’s okay. My heart still aches. He was my only child, and my best friend. He died in June, I got married to the love of my life the April before. Michael wrote to me saying that I was safe now, so he could go.
He and his wife had a suicide pact.I’m sorry, I just can’t go into the physical details of their plan.
They expected to die together. She has expressed her fear that he’s stalled, waiting for her. I know he isn’t. He’s moved on to what ever is next. Something I’ve never before given much thought.

Thank you all for your kind words. I didn’t know writing it all out would be so hard. The years pass, and the moments of tripping over my grief are less frequent, but the intensity doesn’t change.

12

Cheers everyone for your stories.

I’m very sorry to read of your pain picunurse. Thanks for telling us your story.

13

How would I go about such a thing? Is there somewhere to research those kinds of records? The building was really pretty old, I think it was made in 1902 (but I’m not sure, just something I heard as a kid)

Also, if it was the house, why would my grandmother have heard the same thing in PR years before we were even born. Thats the part that creeped me out.

14

I have heard plenty of stories and I have dated people who dealt with spirits (spiritists). Apparently I must be a bit thick skinned to these things… I have walked through some pretty chilly places not knowing that spirits supposedly were there. After I was told about it I was wary of going back of course… talk about mind over matter.

 My only personal experiences with the supernatural came from living people and the "energies" they emit. Hate, love and anger especially.  Frequently have I seen people dabbling in magic suffering all sorts of misfortune in retribution. People should always be aware of their thoughts... to much obsession or negative emotions not only get you down but might do so to others. Careful of what you think... 

 For other Atheists check out in Great Debates my thread on "Is Atheism and the Supernatural contradictory ?" No, is the answer by most.
15

Actually, I’m not quite totally sure myself. I know you can look up the local newspaper on microfilm at your library (if you still live by the home). Also, talk to any old folks in the town who may remember stuff about the house. If there was a murder, it’s possible that someone would remember.

16

Start with the county records office. The ownership of property is a matter of public record. It would amount to doing a title search, as one would do when buying a home.
I know it costs something, I’m sure it varies by county. I do know when buying a home the cost is inflated because the title co needs to be paid too. If you know a real estate agent, he or she could help you.
Once you know who owned the house before your grandparents, you can do internet searches on those names.
You can also go to the library or the local newspaper to look for any reference to the address or the owners in the past. Some places have transferred those old records to computer, but a lot still have them on microfiche.
It will take some time and energy, but if you’re really curious, it will pay off.
Good Luck.

17

My best buddy in college chewed tobacco (which I despised). I was a smoker (which he despised). I used to keep a coffee can full of matches around just so I wouldn’t be without a light. To annoy the heck out of me and make it hard for me to smoke, he used to:take a pack out, light one match, then light the whole book (repeat) until all matchbooks are gone.

After he died I was at his parents house, when I noticed my leg getting warm. Then hot. I suddenly realized the pack of matches in my pocket had lit on fire. My hands had been nowhere near my pocket. Just like him to get one last zing in.
I had another buddy who was a police officer, and was killed in the line of duty. It was a grey and dingy day for his funeral. The lone bagpiper had just started in with Amazing Grace. Suddenly, just as the other bagpipers kicked in, a strong ray of sun hit the the cemetary and the crowd. It left just as the waning wisps of air were letting out the last notes. It was the only sunshine we saw that week.

18

Not a tale of the supernatural, just the creepy natural.

In my cousin’s hometown, there is an abandoned boys home, orphanage I guess, unlived in since the 1930s. I was always up at my cuz’s (or they were visiting me) during vacations and holidays, so we all got familiar with each other’s friends and hang outs, etc…

Well, since that town had a reputation for occultist activities, rumors of the boy’s home sprung up. That it was haunted or that it was used for Satanist activities and sacrifices and such (or all the above). Whether rooted in truth or not, I can’t tell you even today. So, since that was the rumor, it was a rite of passage for us teeners to cruise the home, as it were, esp on Halloween or other significant dates.

Well, I went when I was about 17 or so, and enjoyed the experience of feeling scared and creeped out.

This place was big, too. Really big. Four stories tall with a seven story bell tower in the middle. Residence apartments, dorm rooms, kitchen, classrooms, basement, offices, indoor rec center. Maybe five different wings stretching out behind the front. Imagine an E floor plan with one or two more bits.

When I actually moved there in my late twenties (the town, not the boys home) for a major lifestyle change, my attention was drawn back to the home. It wasn’t quite the popular teen rite of passage anymore, but I was fondly remembering those scary nights.

So, I went to see it one Tuesday afternoon. Toured the whole place in the daylight. Came across ledgers from the 1930s in the desks in the offices. Saw the rows of bunks that the boys slept in. Noticed the general level of dissarray that one would expect from an abandoned yet well built old building.

I found some places that we had never gone to in our trips there, I guess because it was hard to navigate certain passages in the dark. And I came up with an idea for me, my roomy, and our GFs. We would do those hard to get to places! :slight_smile: Me and roomy weren’t from there, but both GFs were, so 3 of us had done the teener thing years before.

Roomy thought it sounded like fun. So we went that Friday night (in late October, btw).

Drove up one of the wings from the backside, headlights off. Entered through a kitchen door I had propped open. First wierd thing: the smell, stench actually, of some dead animal. GFs were ready to leave then. I said no. We go in. Navigating the dark passageways was very difficult, so I turned on one of the flashlights. Roomy did same with his. Later, this scene would be replayed in my mind over and over due to the X - Files doing this every week.

It was actually a bit scarier with the flashlights (torches for you UK types) casting odd patterns and shadows everywhere.

Well, the time had come for my little trick, so me and roomy turnoff our lights for a bit and I sneak away. My GF was quite pissed at this and could hear her saying so at a high volume and pitch. Of course, I was planning on scaring them. I planned on circling around through the hallway, past the offices, and following roomy’s flashlight beam. Pretty fun, no?

Well, on passing one office, I smelled smoke. So. like any normal person would, I went in it. Definitely smoke. Like a candle or two. But no flickering light. So, I shined my light around the room. It was filled with candles. Maybe hundreds of them. All of the furniture had been pushed up against the walls. Candles were all over the furniture and some were on the floor. In the middle of the wood floor was a drawing. No, not the Pentagram I expected. This was a square, divide up into 9 smaller squares, each of which had some simple design in them. In one square, a large knife was stuck deep, as though someone had realy used force to plant it there. Something made me touch one the candles near it. The wax was still soft and warm.

My Spidey senses told me were all in danger, for whatever reason, so I went to find the other 3 and get us out of there. I turned back the way I had come (instead of going full circle) and this descision (I felt) saved our lives. Because from behind me, someone grabbed my arm. I’m a fighter, or at least, I was, and I’m still quite strong, so what I did was reflex. The arm that was grabbed, I shoved that elbow back as hard and fast as I could into what would’ve been chest level on an average sized man. I got the “OOF!” reaction I was seeking and immediately swung hard with my other elbow at his (?) head. It hurt me something fierce, so I knew it hurt him. A second later, he hit the floor, whether stunned or not, I couldn’t tell. Well, of course, in doing this, I dropped and broke my cheap flashlight, so I barely got a glimpse of a brown leather shoe and some dark jeans.

I ran to the GFs and Roomy, bumping into things and making a lot of noise. GF was mad and let me know. I told them all, very calmly, that we should all leave now. They said sure, so I pulled the nearest window out its track (they were wood windows, not taken care of in decades) and told them all to go. I climbed out last, being a proud guy and all.

Once on the lawn, Roomy noticed we were on the wrong side of the wing from our car, so he led us with his light around the back of the building. GF was super pissed at me, Roomy’s GF was calming her down, and Roomy asked me, in a low voice so the girls wouldn’t hear, “What’s up?” I said, “I’ll tell you later.” He said, “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that guy, would it?” Indicating somewhere behind me. Fight or flight kicked in again and I whirled around to face the enemy. “No. Up there, In the window,” hastened Roomy, pointing up.

I looked up to the 3rd floor window where he was pointing and saw a man, standing back a foot or so from the window, as though he didn’t want to be seen. As we all looked, he backed away from the window quickly.

In a very calm and strong voice (and I was was really very proud of her for this quality), my GF says, “Steve, let’s go NOW.”

So, we did. At our place, I told them all what had happened and we put ice on my badly bruised elbow. And we drank. Quite a bit.

Someone finally bought that old boys home and is renovating it. I don’t know if it’s to be offices, residences, or what. I’m tempted to drive up there one day and ask the GC if they came across any weird rooms. Maybe next week.

19

Not really supernatural, but I always thought this was kinda weird:

I was at a wedding many years ago of an older couple that went to my church. It was an Episcopal church, and they had a holy communion service (Eucharist) as part of the wedding celebration. (This is pretty typical for Episcopal weddings.)

The wedding was in the early evening, and it had started raining. I was thinking about the superstition about rain and wedding days and hoping the storm wasn’t an omen for them. Anyway, as the priest got to the part of the mass where he consecrates the Host and raises it above the altar, there was a HUGE peal of thunder. I’m talking shakes-the-dust-off-the-rafters-onto-the-folks-below kind of thunder.

There was a long moment of silence. Those of us in the congregation were looking around at each other with wide eyes and going “whoa… hope that doesn’t mean God is PISSED!!”

The wedding went on ok, and as far as I know, the couple was happy, but I’ve never forgotten that peal of thunder at that amazing point in the service.

20

My Grandmother was born in 1899. When she was about 10 she stayed with some close relatives and it was very big deal to spend the night away from home – she wouldn’t do it again until she was married +10 years later.

Anyway, she was staying at a farmhouse, alone in a room where her Grandmother had lived for about 30 years and died the year before. In the middle of the night the Rocking Chair “started up”. I know you get what I’m saying. She stayed up terrified all night. And it would stop for a while and then repeat, starting up again.

She was very, very religious and (obviously) very, very sheltered. She wouldn’t lie and would only discuss it under extreme duress (years of begging heard her tell it personally twice in 20 yrs). She totally believed it happened. Me? A 10 year old in the 191X’s, first time away from home, completely freaked out in her dead Grandma’s room … I think I can see see how the imagination could run wild … but I’m posting this on her behalf – though she’d never tell strangers that storry