Tell me your ghost stories

In My Humble Opinion
1

Stoopid hamsters. It took me a long time to type the OP, too.

I had a ghost in my old house. I’ll go into more detail later. In the meantime, tell me your ghost stories. Not urban legends, but it’s OK with me if your ghost was only seen by your hairdresser’s aunt’s cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend - I just don’t want to find your story on Snopes. How did you react? Did anyone corroborate your sighting? Were you able to explain it away as possibly stress/emotional trauma/too damn much to drink? Tell me, tell me!

2

Ha! Found it!

I’ll go first (longish story): The hubby and I lived in an older home, and we believe it was haunted. Our bedroom was upstairs in a converted attic. The first time we became aware of the ghost was one day when hubby went upstairs to take a nap. I was (of course) on the computer, in the dining room downstairs. About an hour after he lay down, I heard him walk across the floor above me, and open the bedroom door. I walked to the bottom of the staircase to say howdy when he came down, but he didn’t come down. The bedroom door closed. I shrugged, figuring he must have had some good reason for opening the door, and I went back to the 'puter. When he woke, he came downstairs and asked me why I didn’t stay up in bed with him. I replied that I hadn’t been in the bed to start with. He said he heard me come upstairs and open the door, and I crawled into bed and put my arm around him. I most assuredly had NOT been anywhere near the bed.

Several times afterward, I thought I felt someone watching me while I was in bed. I got a definite feeling of rage and hate from this presence, and a definite “female” feeling to go with it. My husband agreed that it was a female presence, but said that on the rare occasions HE felt it, it seemed friendly. Then, one night when he was out of town, I went upstairs to get something and saw a pair of ladies’ high button shoes SWING past my face. I never again went into that room without my husband with me.

Fast forward four years - we’re in a new house, and I’m chatting with my brother (who lived with us in the old house for a short time.) We start talking about ghosts, and I ask him if he ever saw one. He hems, haws, and then says, “Well, I THINK I saw a lady…” I asked him where, and he hesitated. I said, “Wait. Was it in my old house?” He said yes, he saw her twice. I asked him to describe her clothing, and he said “Long dark dress, hair in a bun, high button shoes. I saw her on the stairs going up to your room and once in the yard looking at the house.”

Bro now insists he does not wish to discuss this further, he would much prefer to think maybe he was drunk or overtired. Me? I think I believe.

Your turn!

3

I’ll just link to an old ghost thread that fizzled (I hoped it was going to last longer.) My two ghost stories are in there.

I <3 ghost stories.

4

I love 'em too, Daowajan, and I posted in that thread (a different story) but I wanna hear more! Skeptics are welcome to … skepticalize… all they want, but just tell me more spooky stories.

5

This was in my grandparents’ last house. It was an old, two-story home, with two huge bedrooms upstairs. My Mom and siblings moved in with my grandfather after my parents divorced. I was in my late teens, early 20’s, and I moved in for about a year as well. The right-hand bedroom at the top of the stairs had a very malevolent spirit towards women. The boys could sleep in that room with no problems. But when we all descended, my grandfather slept in a downstairs room; my mother took the upstairs left bedroom; my brother took the sleeping porch along the back of the house; and my sister and I slept in the right front room. We never saw anything, but ended up, night after night, going into our mother’s room or else going downstairs and sleeping on the house, because of the terrible malevolent feeling emanating in that room.

We heard, after discussing it with some neighbors, a story that a teenage boy had been locked up in there by his mother, because he had mental problems. So was his rage directed at women because of that? Don’t know, don’t even know if the story was true. But whatever was in there was true!

6

LifeOnWry, ::shudder:: That’s super creepy about the shoes, how much longer did you live there?.

I have one that’s actually pretty recent. I live in a small house that was built around the turn of the (last) century. It’s right next to the trainyard, so it’s was probably home to various railworkers and their families before commuting became the norm. One night a couple months ago, my son was having a rough night with teething. He woke crying and I went to him and took him out to lay with me on the couch in the living room. He calmed a bit, and started toddling around, pulling things off of shelves, throwing his blocks—typical one-year-old stuff.
I hadn’t turned on the light, so it was a little dark in the room. It would have been darker, but the big double window lets in quite a bit of light from the spotlights they have plastered all over the trainyard, and it casts a watery pattern of highlights on the far wall. I crawled onto the floor with Little Guy, and he was just sitting there, turning a wooden block over and over in his hands, the way young kids do.
All of a sudden, his head whipped up, the way yours might if you heard your name called in a crowded room. So anyway, he looked up very quickly, and I could see his eyes focusing on something over my shoulder. I looked behind me and didn’t see anything, but when I looked back at Phil his face was going through the “dawning realization look” that he gets when I go to pick him up at daycare and he doesn’t notice me at first. His eyes widened, he smiled hugely, and then he waved and said “hi”.

That might not seem like much, but you’d have to know Phil to understand. I’ve been working with him trying to get him to wave/”hi”, and I know he can do it, he just doesn’t. Maybe once a week or so, he’ll see someone out of the blue, and the “hi” just kind of gets startled out of him. This was like that, as if he’d suddenly noticed a familiar face and was jarred into acknowledging it.

Phil kept smiling, kept staring, and after a moment he began to giggle. I was watching his face the whole time, and his eyes were definitely following some kind of movement in the corner of the room. To me, the corner looked as it always had—empty and still. But I swear to god the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I’d always just thought that was something that happened in books, but I sensed them rise and stand at attention, and what felt like a cold steel snake worked its way down my spine. I felt watched.

This went on for probably about five minutes, and then Phil just looked away, smiled at me, and went back to playing with his blocks.

bella