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Who''s scared of ghosts?

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SoonIHope

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Date: 5/5/2006 1:02:41 PM
Author: TravelingGal
Date: 5/5/2006 12:06:44 PM

Author: albicocca


Date: 5/5/2006 12:04:39 PM
Author: TravelingGal
I''m not a big believer in ghosts, but I do have a story that I wrote 3 years ago (I travel solo and write about some of my adventures while on the road) of an incident in Ireland. When I sent out the story to my friends and family, a lot of them were pretty freaked out, especially because they know I am not the type to lie or exaggerate. To this day, I still can''t figure out what happened....
OHHHHHHH You know you can''t post that and not tell us the story!!!! TELL TELL!!!
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I''d have to dig up the story on my computer, but it''s pretty long (as it''s a travel narrative) and you have to get through a couple of other bits that are related to the ghost story but not the ghost part itself. I think it''d be way too long to post here...
Theeeennnn......summarize the good stuff for us??
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E B

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I love supernatural stuff. When I was in Europe with my father and my stepmother, I made them go on ghost tours with me. There was one in particular I wouldn't go on, as they had a list of poltergeist attacks set up at the stand. They told us that a couple of nights before, a man who took the tour decided he didn't want to go into the graveyard, and stayed outside the gate to wait for them. When they came back, they found the man on the ground, completely unconcious. He had just passed out. From what? Who knows.

I don't have any ghost stories, but my mom has a close friend who had a ghostly experience, and swears up and down that it's true. Mom's friend was sitting and talking to HER friend at the friend's house. Mom's friend was facing a window (HER friend was sitting on a couch against the window), when all of a sudden, she saw a man dressed as an indian standing outside the window, looking straight at her. She screamed, "_____, there's an INDIAN outside your window! The friend smiled and nodded, telling her that their house was built on an old indian camp, and that particular indian ghost comes by all the time. HER friend wasn't fazed in the least.

Weird, huh?
 

AmberWaves

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Ebree, it''s so funny, because I LOVE ghost stuff, watch it all the time, I''ve even gone to the Winchester Mansion in San Jose, because I''d heard that place was uber haunted. BUT, I refuse to go to the Queen Mary on Halloween. It''s supposed to be the most terrifying thing out there! I''ve gone on regular ghost tours there, and all that, but the Queen Mary Shipwreck is supposed to scare the life outta you. I was trying to convince the fiance to have our wedding there, he''s still on the fence- the boiler room there scares him to bits!
 

Starset

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After my Grandma''s passing, my cousin had a baby boy. They lived together with my Aunt and sometimes she would care for the baby while my cousin was not there. Fastforward to the age of three the little boy was in the bathtub alone and my Aunt eavesdropped on him having a very grown up conversation. He started saying things and asking questions that pertained to my Grandma - things he wouldn''t otherwise know. She walked in and asked him who he was talking to and he turned to the ''other person'' then started smiling and turned back to my Aunt and said ''Wouise, It''s my meemaw.'' Louise is my Grandma''s name and Meemaw is what all us cousins used to call her. They had never talked to him before about Grandma.

My bf''s sister had brain damage as a child and to this day at the age of 35 - has the mental capacity of a girl maybe 15. As a child around 12 years old she was playing in the backyard while mom was watching her out the window while doing the dishes. BF''s mom hears their golden retriever growling and snarling and barking but in a sheepish way and her daughter is talking endlessly but can''t make out what she is saying. Mom goes outside and sees that the dog is barking at nothing and her daughter is talking to nobody. Mom yells towards her, ''Who are you talking to?'' She replies, ''I don''t know his name he was asking me about our neighbors and then he wanted directions.'' But there was never anyone there.
 

E B

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Date: 5/5/2006 3:08:12 PM
Author: AmberWaves
Ebree, it's so funny, because I LOVE ghost stuff, watch it all the time, I've even gone to the Winchester Mansion in San Jose, because I'd heard that place was uber haunted. BUT, I refuse to go to the Queen Mary on Halloween. It's supposed to be the most terrifying thing out there! I've gone on regular ghost tours there, and all that, but the Queen Mary Shipwreck is supposed to scare the life outta you. I was trying to convince the fiance to have our wedding there, he's still on the fence- the boiler room there scares him to bits!

Is the Queen Mary in LA? If it is, I want to go! Wanna come with me?
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ETA: Oh, I see...it's one of those Halloween "haunted" houses! LOL, how scary can it be with a dance party as an attraction?
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AmberWaves

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EBree, it''s in Long Beach, and it is SO cool. If you like supernatural stuff, that''s your place. Right now- And I want to go SOOOOO bad right now- not only do they have the usual "Ghosts and Legends" tours, but hey also have an exhibit of the Titanic items and stories (which is something else I''m obsessed with), and they also have an exhibit of Marilyn Monroe right now, too. Ebree, it is AWESOME. Seriously, the best place ever. I love it there.
 

E B

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Date: 5/5/2006 3:17:46 PM
Author: AmberWaves
EBree, it''s in Long Beach, and it is SO cool. If you like supernatural stuff, that''s your place. Right now- And I want to go SOOOOO bad right now- not only do they have the usual ''Ghosts and Legends'' tours, but hey also have an exhibit of the Titanic items and stories (which is something else I''m obsessed with), and they also have an exhibit of Marilyn Monroe right now, too. Ebree, it is AWESOME. Seriously, the best place ever. I love it there.

So is it actually haunted?
 

TravelingGal

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OK, I deleted the precursor to the story. Basically the title of this story was "The Irish Gentlemen." I found Irish men to be very polite and sweet, as I was traveling around Ireland by myself. Essentially, right before the story below, I was out by myself for the evening and ended up talking to a very nice guy, who seemed interested in me. I was fine for conversation, but since I was not in the least attracted to him, I stayed sober. That is key to the story, and why I still don''t understand what happened to this day...

Also just keep in mind I''m not the most politically correct person............

--------

I enjoyed the 15 minute walk home, basking in the mild evening. Every so often, I would look around me to make sure I wasn’t in danger.


I unlocked the front door and once inside, turned to close it softly as it was nearly a quarter to three. I tiptoed quietly up the stairs to the very top floor where my attic room was…only one of two rooms, but I knew I was the only one up there.


Looking forward to get out of Galway in the morning and continue my trip, I got ready for bed. Despite being nearly killed by a few hundred college kids, I would remember my time in Galway fondly.


I was nearly ready for bed when I heard a barely audible tapping on my door. Cocking my head in puzzlement, I listened for it again.


Tap. Tap. Tap.


I looked at my watch. It was five minutes to three. Who could that be?


I tip-toed over to the door and called out softly, “Who’s there?”


No answer.


Then….Tap. Tap. Tap.


You know in those horror movies where the girl hears something, and she slowly walks toward the noise? You yell at the screen “You idiot! Don’t go in there!” You think if it were you, you would definitely run at breakneck speeds in the other direction right?


Well, let me tell you, we as humans have a dumb gene, known as curiosity. It compels you to know what that noise is, even when your gut instinct, which you heavily rely on, tells you otherwise.


Wondering perhaps if it was the proprietor in need of telling me that there was some kind of emergency, I got the key to the door. It was one of those old fashioned keys you had to put in a keyhole and could lock the door from either side. Usually these types of keys are used to lock children in an attic so they can have incestuous relations and spawn a series of creepy books.


I fumbled getting the key in the hole and unlocked the door. I slowly opened it, and as I was in my underwear (another Einstein move: opening the door in your underwear) I peered outside. Honestly believing that no one would be there, my heart slammed hard into my chest.


He had piercing blue eyes, and they fixed upon me. I had not met the man of the house yet, but suspected the man before me was too young to be him.


“Yes?” I practically whimpered, clutching the doorknob more tightly.


“Don’t lock the door,” he said softly, but firmly in an Irish accent.


“Oh, OK.” I was frozen. I could not move.


“May I come in?”


My heart hammered harder, and my feet grew cold. “No,” I told him.


“Why not?” he asked, still speaking with the faintest of tones.


In all the almost thirty years of my existence, what I blurted out next is the most asinine thing I have ever said, given the circumstances.


“Because I’m getting ready for bed, and I’m not fully dressed.”


Oh F*CK.


He didn’t blink. “Don’t lock your door.” He repeated.


The conversation, believe it or not, continued for another minute in the same manner it had. He only said three phrases:


“Don’t look your door.”


“May I come in?”


“Why not?”


Because my mind was so numb, we went over this a few more times with me giving the exact same answers. Even the dumb underwear line. He never lost patience, only saying the same things over again.


The gut instinct I had left beside my bed finally came up to me and shook me, hard.


“CLOSE THE F*CKING DOOR!” it screamed at me, most urgently.


I snapped out the numb trance I had been in. In full panic now, I whispered weakly, “I’m closing the door now, goodnight!” He didn’t move, and I shut the door quickly on him and reached for the lock.


There was no lock! Oh my god, oh my god…the key, the key! Where is it! I had put it on the desk next to the door instead of leaving it in the keyhole. My name became “Thumbs” as I frantically poked the key into the hole, trying make it fit. Finally it snapped and I turned the lock, yanked out the key and leapt back from the door as if it were on fire.


The room was silent, except for the sound of my erratic breathing.


Tap.


Tap.


Tap.


I closed my eyes as my stomach kicked. Oh god, I begged, please go away.


I jumped over the bed and grabbed the phone. Picking up, I dialed “O” to reach the phone downstairs.


It rang. And rang. No one answered, and all the while there was that “Tap. Tap. Tap.”


I held the receiver in my hands and looked at it in disbelief. I was trapped in this attic room at 3 am.


His knocking became a little more insistent. Tap, tap, tap. With every tap I grew more alarmed, if that was even possible. I felt the blood rush to my head and willed myself to believe that there wasn’t a stranger trying to get into my room. This house was full of people but they were all downstairs.


I decided to screw being polite and scream. There was nothing else I could do, and I couldn’t ignore him. It was a simple keyhole, and I refused to go to sleep with the possibility that I would be awoken by someone trying to rape me.


Then I saw it…another number on the phone. 222.


I snatched the receiver again and dialed the number. On the third ring, a man, incoherent from sleep, answered.


Almost crying, I said loudly there was a man outside the door, who would not leave. Outside your door? He asked me. Yes, I said. I’m in number 9. He told me he would be right up.


I heard the wood creak outside. But then nothing; nobody going down the stairs, or up the stairs. How long could it take for someone to get up here?


Then I heard someone coming up the stairs. Knock, knock. “Mina, it’s Braeda.”


Relief washed over me, and I opened the door. “Mina, there’s nobody out here. What happened?”


I told her what had happened, and she asked me, “Well did you let him in the house?”


I insisted I had not. Never so happy to be completely sober, I told her I had faced the door to close it. She could see I was of clear mind.


“No one followed you home?”


No, I persisted. No. Were there any Irish guests, I asked.


“I don’t know…I can’t think right now. We’ll check the house. Wait here and lock your door.”


A few minutes later, Braeda rang me. “Mina, there’s no one in the house. I thought I’d ring you so you could rest easy. But I checked the books, and all the guests tonight are American.”


My blood ran completely cold. Weakly, I thanked her, but asked if it was OK if I could call her should anything happen again. She assured me that was fine.


I sat on my bed, staring at the door. HOW did he get in the house, I wondered. I was still clammy from uneasiness. It was the first time in a long, long time I slept with my light on.


Yeesh, I thought as I drifted off into anxious sleep. These Irishmen. Even when they want to rape and murder you, they’re still gentlemanly about it.


*****
The next morning, after a fitful night, I went down for breakfast. Braeda was serving and gave me a cool hello. Oops, I thought, she doesn’t like me.
“What will you be having today morning?” she asked.
I chose some eggs and bacon and she nodded, then left. I looked around the room, which was filled with guests. None of which were any help to me last night.

Two young American girls walked into the room. Braeda returned from the kitchen. “Good morning girls!” she called out to them sing-song and cheerful, totally different from the way she greeted me. “Be with you a minute.”


That’s when I realized what had happened last night.


The man at my door must have been Braeda and Mike’s son. They once had a daughter as well. The room I was in was the room they were locked in when they were children. The son became enamored of his sister, and one terrible night, when they were locked yet again in this attic room, he raped her. Despite her sobbing and pleas for him to stop, he violently thrust into her again and again, crazy from his unthinkable feelings for his sister. When he finished with her, she wept and told him mummy and daddy would be very angry. Fearful of his secret, he seized her by the throat and dragged her to the bathroom where he drowned her in the toilet. And when she had gone limp in his hands was the exact moment Braeda entered the room.


She loved her daughter, but would not lose her son over this. Mike and Braeda locked their son in the other attic room, and took their daughter’s corpse out to dispose of her in Galway bay. They returned to clean up the blood and mess, and told their son he would never leave that attic room.


But the night I was there, he had gotten out to come back to the scene of the crime. He was officially insane now, and had been locked in the other attic room for 15 years. He hated locked doors and told me not to lock mine. Had I slammed the door shut a minute later, I might have been raped and drowned in the toilet too.


“Well girls, where’s the sleepy one this morning?” she asked the two Americans.


I snapped out of my daze and looked at Braeda. I narrowed my eyes at her. I know your secrets, I thought. You can’t hide them from me.


And it was with great relief that I shoveled the rest of breakfast down my hatchet, grabbed my things, and got the hell out of Galway.


***


Postscript: Upon checkout, Braeda did tell me that she asked all her guests if anyone heard anything last night. No one had. She told me she believed I thought I locked the door, but that I actually hadn’t, and I must have been followed home. I knew that wasn’t the case, but felt it pointless to argue. If someone did follow me home, he didn’t come up the stairs until at least 10 minutes afterwards. How could he have known what room I was in? Who knows, I suppose anything was possible after last night.


And Mina, she said, when you called, we monitored the front door and windows. It has an alarm on it, and we would know if someone left. The door never opened.


I’ve told a few locals this story, and based on what I’ve told you, they are sure what I saw was a ghost. Or a leprechaun. If it was a leprechaun, the thing was on steroids.


But this is the enchanted Isle, after all. Anything can happen here.
 

AmberWaves

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Ebree, it is TOTALLY haunted, here''s the website: http://www.queenmary.com/index.php
And the ghosts and legends part: http://www.ghostsandlegends.com/
 

pearcrazy

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Date: 5/5/2006 2:00:29 PM
Author: blodthecat
Hi Pearcrazy,

Spirits are nothing to fear. We are ''spirit'' but in a body, and you''re not afraid of people!

As someone has already posted, I wonder if you might have experience sleep paralysis (which can be extremely frightening)
Blod, I think maybe you meant to address Portoar?
 

jcrow

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i don''t know if mine is necessarily a ghost thing. however, i definitely can not watch scary movies! like you said, i can''t even hear them. if i see comercials for them sometimes i even flip the channel. i know this may sound stupid, but when i was little, unsolved mysteries was the worst!! argh, the music is so disturbing!! and his voice! yuck!

on a funny note, i almost didn''t click on this thread thinking i''d be scared!! tee hee he.

princess v- do u live in louisiana? (sorry if i''ve already asked this)
 

FireGoddess

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So TravelingGal, did that really happen to you? I thought there was a ''Flowers in the Attic'' reference in there at the beginning until the rest of the story unfolded.
 

TravelingGal

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Yes Firegoddess, it actually did happen to me. And I always hated the thought of attic rooms because of those VC Andrews books, so I found it ironic that this happened to me while I was in one.

I am still not quite sure what or who that guy was. All I know is that he never tried to force his way in (which I figured a rapist would) and that he seemed to look right through me. He never ever deviated from those exact three lines either.
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FireGoddess

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I really enjoyed your style of writing - sort of sarcasm mixed in there with wit and suspense!!
 

SoonIHope

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Date: 5/5/2006 4:05:29 PM
Author: FireGoddess
I really enjoyed your style of writing - sort of sarcasm mixed in there with wit and suspense!!

Me too! Thank you so much for posting it!!!
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And yeeeeeeah that is soooo creepy!!!!!
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TravelingGal

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Date: 5/5/2006 4:07:48 PM
Author: albicocca

Date: 5/5/2006 4:05:29 PM
Author: FireGoddess
I really enjoyed your style of writing - sort of sarcasm mixed in there with wit and suspense!!

Me too! Thank you so much for posting it!!!
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And yeeeeeeah that is soooo creepy!!!!!
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Thanks much! Sometimes my sarcasm comes across as mean, so I try to let people know I''m a very nice person
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and it''s just my sense of humor.
 

Mannequin

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I hate scary movies but I love ghost stories. Great topic and I''ve enjoyed the posts so far.

I guess I would classify as a believer. I have had enough experiences and heard stories from family members to know that while it may not be "ghosts" there is something else out there beyond just the earthly and heavenly realm.

One of my mother''s:

My grandfather passed away on New''s Years Eve when I was less than a year old. In the springtime of that following year, my mother held a dinner party to celebrate my grandmother''s birthday at our home. It was her first birthday without her husband, so everyone made an extra effort to help support Grandma. They told many happy memories and funny stories about Grandpa at dinner. Everyone had a marvelous time, and after all the guests had left and my parents had cleaned up it was time to go to bed.

My mother had just put me in my crib, and she left my daddy upstairs while she went downstairs to check the locks one more time or something. Our kitchen looked out into a family room with a fireplace, and as my mother entered the kitchen, she glanced into the family room and saw a roaring fire in the fireplace. There were flames all the way across the doors, it was huge. She was confused and called my daddy downstairs, mad that he had built that big of a fire right before bedtime. He came down, and he told her that he hadn''t touched the fireplace since he had cleaned all the ashes out the previous weekend.

They looked at the fireplace together, and he saw the roaring fire too. There was nothing in the fireplace that could have caused such flames, and though the damper was closed there was no smoke. They opened the damper and ended up going back to bed as there was nothing they could do. The next morning, the fire was gone and again there was nothing in the fireplace. The only thing that my parents could figure out was that maybe Grandpa was telling them that he enjoyed the dinner party and had a good time listening to everyone talking about him.

I have some other good ones, I''ll post ''em later.
 

TravelingGal

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I gotta wonder...are we making this worse for you Cinderella? I''m not sure after that last one that equestrienne posted, that we should keep talking!
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moon river

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I lived with a ''spirit'' of sorts for several years that never hurt anyone, just played around. Scared the crap out of alot of my friends though. We named him(it?) Fat Joe.
 

bookworm21

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TravelinGal, that''s so creepy! I would have completely freaked out myself, I don''t know how youi managed to fall asleep after that. Great writing too.

Thanks for sharing your stories everyone; it makes me feel much better that I''m not the only one that feels this way. And I''ve got one more story that I just remembered, it''s about the house I''m living in right now with my BF.

We had bought this house a couple of years ago as a fixer-upper. It needed major work, new roof, new floors, new kitchen, new bathroom. When we moved in, I didn''t feel comfortable in the garage or alone in the house, but I chalked that up to being afraid of the dark and the unfamiliarity of a new house. We had several friends over for a poker game one night, and apparently, one of them saw an old lady with white hair walking past them while they were in the living room. My BF never told me this, since he knew I would freak out. Well, we eventually hired a feng shui expert who walked through our house and told us that he saw an old woman with white hair around the house, only he saw her out of the corner of his eye. I just stared at him, not wanting to believe what he was telling us. Apparently, this woman may have been one of the first owners of the house, and she didn''t want to leave. My BF said that he knew about her, which surprised me. He then admitted that our friend had seen the same woman in our house before.

Oh, and I just remembered another story.

My BF knows this girl who can see ghosts, and she has been able to see them ever since she was a little girl. According to her, these ghosts are everywhere, and that everyone has a ghost following them. When she was a little girl, she told her mom about the ghosts, and her mom used to take her to all these different temples to try to excorcise this "third eye" out of her. They were always unsuccessful, so eventually she started telling her mom that one of the excorcisms worked, just so her mom would stop dragging her all over the world in an attempt to cure her of her visions.

This girl describes the ghosts as individuals with faces. The ones that aren''t following their humans around just stand against a wall, facing the wall, with their heads hanging down, looking at the ground. She says that they are everywhere, but that bus stops are the places where these ghosts prefer to hang out. They like sitting in the bus stops, staring at the ground. She also says that the ghosts that follow people around tend to be bloody, and most don''t say anything or do anything. They just stand there. Sometimes, they get mad and go right up to people''s faces and start screaming at the humans. Right in their faces. But humans don''t notice and just go about doing their own thing. She says that successful people tend to have some really ugly, really bloody and maimed looking ghosts that follow them everywhere, whereas the average person has an average ghost that doesn''t look as scary.

Ok, done with this long post. Will add more if I remember more.
 

bookworm21

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Date: 5/5/2006 4:57:25 PM
Author: TravelingGal
I gotta wonder...are we making this worse for you Cinderella? I''m not sure after that last one that equestrienne posted, that we should keep talking!
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LOL, not really. Most stories are friendly ones. The stories I''m scared of are the scary stories. And like it or not, although I''m such a scaredy cat, these stories hold a certain fascination for me. Yours, however, is just plain scary. I really don''t know how you managed to sleep after that!
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TravelingGal

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Date: 5/5/2006 5:18:31 PM
Author: Cinderella


LOL, not really. Most stories are friendly ones. The stories I''m scared of are the scary stories. And like it or not, although I''m such a scaredy cat, these stories hold a certain fascination for me. Yours, however, is just plain scary. I really don''t know how you managed to sleep after that!
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Well, since he didn''t force his way in or rape me, I chalk it up to a "friendly" ghost. No harm, no foul!
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And I didn''t sleep well for DAYS....
 

Mannequin

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Back with another story, this is an experience of mine in which I was visited by my late grandfather...

About six or so years ago, I was soundly sleeping and I woke up suddenly. Wide awake, not just sleepily blinking and rolling over. I was lying on my back with my arms at my sides and as I awoke, I had this image of my grandfather in my head. My daddy''s father died when I was a first grader, but I spent a lot of time with him when I was little and I still remember him well. He raised four rowdy boys but always took care to be gentle and sweet with me, his only granddaughter. He had heart failure in his late forties and died very young.

I don''t know why I thought of him then, but as I pictured my grandpa, I thought for a few moments about how much I wished he had been there to see me graduate college. At the time I had a canopy on my bed and I had hung a little ring of old diary keys on it so that it would jingle whenever I got in and out of bed. As I lay there perfectly still, I suddenly felt a warm tingle rushing through my entire body, like a wave of comfort rolling over me. I heard all the little keys jingling above me, and I smelled oranges in the air. Last but not least, I felt someone lightly stroking my face, along the jawline, ear to lips. Everything faded in just a few short moments, and I was left with such a peaceful feeling.

I know that my visitor that evening had to have been Grandpa. My Grandpa always jingled whatever was in his pocket, and he and I used to eat oranges together all the time (he''d help me peel since I couldn''t get the rinds off, and I''d let him have some of my snack in return). Last but not least, my grandpa is the only person who ever touched my face like that.
 

diamondfan

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Date: 5/6/2006 12:18:01 AM
Author: equestrienne
Back with another story, this is an experience of mine in which I was visited by my late grandfather...

About six or so years ago, I was soundly sleeping and I woke up suddenly. Wide awake, not just sleepily blinking and rolling over. I was lying on my back with my arms at my sides and as I awoke, I had this image of my grandfather in my head. My daddy''s father died when I was a first grader, but I spent a lot of time with him when I was little and I still remember him well. He raised four rowdy boys but always took care to be gentle and sweet with me, his only granddaughter. He had heart failure in his late forties and died very young.

I don''t know why I thought of him then, but as I pictured my grandpa, I thought for a few moments about how much I wished he had been there to see me graduate college. At the time I had a canopy on my bed and I had hung a little ring of old diary keys on it so that it would jingle whenever I got in and out of bed. As I lay there perfectly still, I suddenly felt a warm tingle rushing through my entire body, like a wave of comfort rolling over me. I heard all the little keys jingling above me, and I smelled oranges in the air. Last but not least, I felt someone lightly stroking my face, along the jawline, ear to lips. Everything faded in just a few short moments, and I was left with such a peaceful feeling.

I know that my visitor that evening had to have been Grandpa. My Grandpa always jingled whatever was in his pocket, and he and I used to eat oranges together all the time (he''d help me peel since I couldn''t get the rinds off, and I''d let him have some of my snack in return). Last but not least, my grandpa is the only person who ever touched my face like that.

That is truly amazing and gave me goosebumps! I had those times with my dad and I totally believe in it...
 

larussel03

Brilliant_Rock
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Oct 22, 2005
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I swear that I saw a ghost at my parents' new house (I was sleeping over and thought I saw a young boy standing in the room, this happened 2 times, and I'm always nervous to sleep over there). The house was built in the early 1800's and was originally a home for orphans. Then 2 weeks ago my mom had a psychic over to the house to do readings for her friends, and when I went in I mentiond that I thought I saw a ghost and she said very matter of factly "that's because you do see them, there are ghosts in this house" and I nearly freaked out!!! She then looked at me, totally calm and said "don't worry, there's no reason to be scared." And this was coming from a psychic who was very pretty, married, had kids, drove a mercedes and had just come back from hawaii with her family...not some wierd looking lady that I'd imagined would be odd enough to be a psychic.
 
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