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Back in 1987, my sister and her husband used to live in an apartment. Her husband's mother lived upstairs
and this was in a house but both apartments were separate from each other. One day, when my sister was home alone, she went
down to the basement during the day to do some laundry and she heard a little boy crying in the dark. My sister was nervous
of turning on the light. So, she asked him "Little boy, why are you crying?" He responded "Because I don't like the dark!".
She told him she would get a night light for him. When she returned and plugged the night light into the outlet... he must
of vanished and she could no longer hear him. My sister found out later that years ago a family lived there once and their
little boy died of a disease in a hospital not to far away.
Marge
I guess when I was born, I got
this gift, a gift that I couldn't face until I was 10. The reason why I couldn't face my problem was that some were good and
some very bad, and I was small and I had no one to talk to. Even if I did, no one would understand me, it truly is a small
world for some of us. I'm 32 now and I learned that if you don't pay attention to certain things, they won't pay attention
to you. It some times sucks when you're at a funeral and you happen to know the person. My personal opinion on the matter
is I can see not 1 but 3 dimensions while most people can only see 1. My every day living is a story. I wake up and see people,
some can be seen and others you can't and they always mumble. Sometimes, I can't see them, but I can hear them. I also see
figures from out of this world, demons with horns, although they never show there actual face to me, but I can smell them
and feel that they have bad intentions. I'm a good Christian, I guess that's why they don't bother me much. It's funny, the
older I get, the more I see and feel.
Aryan Y., God Bless
We are not alone.
Hello my name
is Ray and I would like to share with you the experiences that happened to my small family in 1996. We had been transferred
to the Houston area from San Antonio and found a two story four bedroom house in the Clear Lake City area. A real fix it upper
and it was the worst looking house in a very nice community called Green Acres. My Brother-In- Law (Robert) and sister helped
us for six months remodeling,cleaning up and making the place a nice home. Robert had sold his own home two years earlier
and lived in a travel trailer but missed his home. He jumped in and was happy to do most of the work and was proud of the
results. A month after the house was finished we found out that Robert had terminal cancer and had less than six months to
live. The trailer was small and so my wife and I decided to bring Robert into our house for his final days. We put him downstairs
in the formal living room and with the help of Hospice we knew we could help Robert with a peaceful quiet death. This was
not the case. Robert fought hard for life and was terrified of death because he had fought in Viet Nam and had killed many.
He did not know what was waiting for him on the other side. The end came with Robert fighting to get out of bed, the look
on his face one of horror. As per his request he was left in his room for six hours after death and then the funeral home
was called and Robert left---or did he! The week after the funeral things started not being right. Odd bumps and sounds from
downstairs late at night, our dog would not go downstairs after dark and furniture being moved. One morning the living room
sofa was standing on end with all the cushions still in place. Dining room chairs would be taken and lined along the living
room wall and mirrors would vibrate. We called the Hospice Minister to the house and he blessed every room but Robert still
did not leave. We did!!! The house stood vacant for awhile and new people moved in but their stay was short, neighbors say
two more families came and left. It has been eight years now and just a while back I was in the area and went by the house---it
sits vacant again with a for sale sign in the front yard --standing in front of the window of the room in which Robert died.
As I stood there remembering our last few months in that house a chill ran down my back and I quickly got into my car drove
away.
Ray G.
It was around 1992 or 1993. I had traveled from where I was living at the time in
Austin, Texas back East to New York to visit my parents and younger siblings. It'd been about four or five years since I graduated
High School so an outing with friends was also planned. We decided to meet at a local diner to catch up. Conversation undoubtedly
drifted to what had happened to whom when someone brought up a tragic occurrence involving a young boy we all knew named Eric.
Eric was three years younger than me and had actually been on the same bus that my brother and I took to school each morning.
In retrospect I can't say he was a very nice boy. A typical bully I guess. He gave my younger brother heck on most days and
I was friends with Eric's older sister Adrian. Needless to say I never cared much for Eric but I was still saddened when I
heard that on the last day of his senior year he'd been showing off and drove his car at a high rate of speed into a tree
in front of the school and subsequently killed himself. Granted, Eric had been a bit of a bully but he certainly hadn't deserved
to die at such a young age. I thought about Adrian and wondered how she'd handled it, feeling sorry for her loss. Bully or
no bully, he'd still been her younger brother whom she loved.
After a couple hours of catching up my friends and I bid
each other goodbye and I drove home. It was late. My parents had given me my old room to stay in, which was located on the
lower level of my parent's split level house and hadn't yet been deemed as my sister's at that point. It was the only bedroom
down there next to a family room, bathroom, and washroom and a computer area. My youngest sister was around eight or nine
years of age back then, and thoroughly excited to have me home after such a long absence. Naturally, she wanted to sleep in
my room so she got her sleeping bag and set herself up on the floor next to my bed.
A few hours after retiring for the
night, I was woken out of a deep sleep by the sound of three slow knocks. "Knock;. Knock;. Knock." I opened my eyes and instinctively
looked at the clock first. It was 3:00am. Strange; it sounded as if the knocking had come from a ledge that spanned two walls
in my room. As I tried to figure out what that knocking had been, my eyes began to adjust to the light a little better and
I looked down at my sister still sound asleep in her sleeping bag next to me. Little did I know, we weren't alone.
That's
when I saw it. A shadow person. It stood around six feet tall and it was blacker than black. Opaque black. An actual complete
absence of light because I couldn't see through it. It stood on the opposite side of my sleeping sister facing me and looked
completely three dimensional. I could make out no facial features as it appeared to be shrouded, but I could most definitely
make out its head and shoulders and where it continued down to the floor. I also noted that it had no feet.
My heart began
to race as I quickly realized that I was seeing a ghost and I was paralyzed in place, still raised up on my elbow in bed,
staring at it and it staring back at me. I got the distinct feeling it was male and for some reason Eric's name came to mind.
Perhaps due to my Catholic upbringing, I began to recite the Lord's Prayer inside my head.
"Our Father Who art in heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven"
I hadn't gotten very far into the
prayer when slowly the shadow began to move. Not towards me, but instead turning to the side and then gliding across the room
(no feet, remember) and disappearing into the wall where a large mirror hung above my old dresser.
Needless to say that
once it'd vanished it took me all of about half a second to jump out of my bed, leap over my still sleeping sister and run
up the stairs to sleep on the couch for the rest of the night. Well, honestly I didn't sleep that much. But I did think about
Eric a lot, and said a few more prayers for his soul after apologizing for calling him a bully.
Sadly, being a paranormal
investigator now and looking back at the experience, I could just kick myself for not having a camera handy at the time.
Diana
Hello PRNJ, I've had paranormal experiences for as long as I can remember. Pretty much
all of them have been benign or amusing, but one in particular was neither.
In September of 1997, I moved with my then
husband and our young son into an apartment. We only lived there for four months because of the following events.
When
we first moved in, I immediately had feelings of dread and fear. I tried to ignore those thinking my issues had to do with
my husband working the graveyard shift which left me and our son alone in our apartment all night long. But eventually, I
added up all the issues that made me uncomfortable and made a lost. Our son's room was always cold.. at least 15 to 20 degrees
colder than any other room in the house. You could walk from the hallway and instantly become chilled and covered in goosebumps
upon entering my son's room. My son refused to stay in his room at any point unless I was in there with him. I didn't even
like playing in there with him and would usually snatch some toys and bring them in the living room while feeling as if someone
might grab my shoulder at any moment. I continually felt watched. I went from being independent and self-assured to bathing
with the door open, keeping my son in the same room with my 99 percent of the time, consulting a neighbor over the issues
in the home when I discovered he was sensitive to those type of issues, and recounting it for my husband (a native american)
who told me to hush since speaking of them gave them power).
I began noticing my son had created an imaginary friend. but
instead of pleasure, this friend scared him and poked at him. I had begun putting my son to sleep on the couch with me and
moving him to bed only once he was fast asleep, and normally within an hour, he would be awake again crying for me and would
finish sleeping the rest of the night on the couch with me. The feelings I had in this place were so strong that I had to
sleep in the living room with the tv on because I was scared of sleeping in my own bedroom alone.
One night, I followed
the routine as I had been for several months. This was december of 1997. And again, my son awoke crying. But this time he
was SCREAMING and not just whimpering. I went into his room and he was writhing and pulling at his pajamas (those kind with
the feet in them that zip from one foot all the way up to the neck). So I removed his pajamas, and there were dark red welts
resembling scratch marks minus the blood, and right before my eyes, he would squirm as another welt would show up. I grew
very angry and left the room with him. As we sat on the couch, I became completely enraged. I have never been so angry in
my life!! So we went back into his room, and I laid him in bed and tucked him in then began to say prayers contained in my
son's book of prayers. I could literally feel the energy growing in the room, but I remembered being told as a child that
if you cast out a demon in the name of God, it has to leave. So I finished the Lord's Prayer and said something along the
lines of, "In the name of God, I command you to leave this home and never come back" and kept repeating it getting louder
each time I said it. There was a growing white heat of anger inside me each time I said it. I finished, turned towards my
son, and said "Everything will be ok now". But right then, he pointed his little finger at something slightly behind me and
to my right and exclaimed, "NO!!". I jumped as something moved out of the corner of my eye and pushed my back up against the
wall then saw it. It was a mass of see through watery stuff like the fumes behind a jet engine. it hit me, I lost sight and
sound for a few moments, then the lights exploding in my eyes faded. I snatched my son out of bed and ran the few blocks to
where my husband was working and showed him the marks which were still there. Actually, on the way there, we passed under
a tree and hundreds of acorns came pouring down on us. I felt like someone was chasing me, and I must have looked ridiculous
running at 1 in the morning with a small child in our pajamas.
Anyway, we spent the remainder of the evening with my son's
godmother, and my husband returned to the apartment after his shift. He said when he entered the home, there were these whirlwind
thingies that resembled gray tornadoes in the house. One was in the living room, one was in the hallways, and one could slightly
be seen in our bedroom. He said it brought him to his knees, and this is a guy raised on a reservation accustomed to visiting
the sweat lodges and smoking peyote to induce imagery.
He called me and had our son's godmother keep him while we came
back and moved everything out as quickly as possible. The whole time, the air just seemed so menacing!! On a trip down to
our moving truck, the maintenance man told us the guy who lived there before us had died in my son's room. He was not discovered
until he had begun to decompose and literally had melted a large portion of himself into the carpet. It suddenly made sense
that there was a spot that had been painted over against the wall even though the entire wall had not been painted. Apparently,
that was where he had slumped over upon death.
There have been many incidents of activity before and since then, but none
that terrified me or my family nearly as much. Out of hundreds of incidents, only this one and another which took place four
years later were this menacing and negative.
LeeAnn
Hi Guys,
When I was about 13, I was asleep in my room at my grandparents house where
I live. it was in the middle of the night when I heard a noise. It sounded like stuff hitting the floor. Well I was
a little scared to sit up and look to see what was making the noise, but I did anyway. When I raised my head up I saw all
of my stuffed animals jumping off my shelfs one by one like someone was tossing them off. I ran out of the room
and woke my grandmother up and told her what happened. When she walked back to my room with me, all of my stuffed animals
were sitting on the shelfs, but the strange thing was they were all sitting backwards facing the wall. My grandmother didn't
believe me of course and said I had a bad dream and put them facing that way myself. One night she heard footsteps walking
up and down our hallway. She asked me about it the next morning. I told her it wasn't me, I was asleep. Well the following
night, she come to my bedroom and woke me telling me she believed me and knew I wasn't lying. That night she had left her
bedroom door open and saw a shadowy figure walking down toward my room that resembled my grandfather who had been dead for
11yrs.
Stuff happens all the time, doors open and shut, lights turn on and off, we hear footsteps going up and down the
stairs and down the hallways all hours of the night. And the strangest thing is we've heard whistling to the theme of the
Andy Griffith Show which was my grandfathers favorite show. Every time my grandfather would be working in his darkroom he
would whistle that tune.
I just wonder sometimes why my grandfather scared me the way he did with the stuffed animals,
but maybe he still viewed me as the toddler I was when he died and was trying to play with me.
Brian
I
have always been very interested in the paranormal since I was a child in fact. I was always able to sense a presence and
be able to tell if it was good or bad. The first time I was ever afraid of anything paranormal in my life was a night about
five years ago. I was sound asleep in my little day bed one night and I woke up suddenly to see a man standing at the foot
of my bed. He had the hat on that I had bought at Knotts Berry Farm a week before and he was just smiling. It was a horrible
evil smile that made me want to cry, I was only about fourteen, I remember exactly what he looked like in detail. He was not
fuzzy or hard to see in any way, in fact he was as clear as a bell. He was wearing a black suit and a white shirt and a black
tie. His face was long and thin and he had a very large very white smile and dark, cold eyes. I couldn’t look away.
Some people think it’s comical that he was wearing my hat because it was a yellow and black stripped top hot with happy
faces on it. But I could tell that this man, this thing was not there to be funny. He felt evil and mean, like he want to
hurt me but couldn’t. To this day I sometimes see that smile it felt like he was telling me not now but soon.
You
would think that after that I would have stopped playing around with the paranormal but no. I am still drawn to it, like a
fly to honey. I like near a place called Turnbull Canyon. I don’t care what people say it is haunted by something dark
and very evil. My friends and I love to drive through there at night looking for old abandoned houses and an insane asylum
where many people were tortured while receiving “treatment” there in the 1930’s. One night we were again
driving through there looking for something to justify wasting our time there as my husband says, and we found it. It was
a strange night because the road was blocked off by cones, and no one was outside, and no lights were on, most of Turnbull
is residential by the way so that was strange. We went through the cones anyways. There is a section of Turnbull that is blocked
off with barbed wire and full of trees so no one can see in or get in. Two of my friends became adventurous and decided to
get out of the car and to walk up to the fence, this was not a good idea. One friend stopped about a foot from the fence and
wouldn’t step any closer, the other went all the way up. The one that stopped said that she just froze and couldn’t
move with the fear of it and the other said that when she walked up she felt evil and malice staring her back in the face.
So they jumped in my car and we high tailed it right out of there, but something was wrong. Something was pushing my car,
my car goes very slow up hill and it was going way too fast without it straining. I looked to the left of my car and saw a
figure right next to my window when I looked to the right there was another one. I wasn’t the only one who saw it my
friends did as well no one said anything till we were safe out of the canyon. Then we all looked at each other and one of
my friends started crying. My two friends in the back said that there were two of those black shadowy figures on both sides
of the back seat windows and two behind the car. We believe that these figures whoever they were, were getting us to safety.
There was something strange going on there and I am so happy to have not been a victim.
Ashly
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