My grandparents own a haunted house! I semi grew up there and was never ever nope nope nope comfortable. Short story – my adopted sister came to meet my side of the family and stayed in my room alone while I I stayed at my bfs house for some alone times. The next morning she told me she thought it was weird that the 5 year old was allowed to run up and down the stairs to the attic and play all night, did aunt/uncle know? Then I showed her how the stairs were blocked off and so packed of stuff it would have been impossible. It was then she decided to sleep on the couch at bf’s house instead of a nice bed.
Archive for the ‘Children Ghosts’ Category
This will probably never be seen because the post is already at 2,400 comments but I swear on my life that it is absolutely true.
One of my close friends lived next to a house that was always vacant. It would sell, people would move in, and then one day they’d be gone and the house would be up for sale again. One summer, when the house was listed again and the last family had moved out, we decided to go take a tour and eat some Jack in the Box we had picked up. We weren’t very smart sometimes and thought it would be cool to play chicken with whatever was haunting this house. My friend was really skinny and crawled through the dog door that led straight into the kitchen, then opened the back door for me. We went through all of the rooms and it was pretty nondescript, just a typical 50s style bungalow house with a similar layout to his home, lots of pretty woodwork and built-ins. After we determined that the house really wasn’t that creepy after all, we sat down in the dining area, on the floor, across from a little horseshoe shaped nook with a kitchen table and built-in bench. It was dusk out but the windows didn’t have curtains and it never got that dark in our city, anyway. At this point, we had been in the house for maybe 25 minutes and after we finished eating we stayed sitting just to hang out and talk since we weren’t spooked out at all. All of a sudden, mid-sentence, completely out of nowhere, my vision went black and I felt this eery coldness wash all over me (I’m getting chills thinking about it), a feeling so thick I felt like it penetrated my through my body down to my bones. At the very same moment this happened, my friend screamed. I virtually could not see anything and was groping around trying to find something to grab onto and I felt so unsettled and ..cold. There’s really no other word for it. After what felt like hours, I felt my friend’s hands in mine and he pulled me to my feet and drug me through the house to the back door. He kept pulling on my arm and I still couldn’t see anything. We got outside and slowly ..you know that feeling when you get a whole body shiver and it runs down your spine? As soon as I was outside, that’s what I felt, except this was a whole body shiver that started at the tip of my toes and went all the way up to my scalp, and unexpectedly and suddenly I could see again. My friend was as pale as a sheet and looked absolutely terrified. I felt off and sort of, gross, I guess is the best word, and in shock. I told him that I couldn’t see at all until I was outside, that it felt like I had been enveloped in blackness. He was just staring at me and I finally asked him why he had screamed. He hugged me and told me that he pulled me out of the house as soon as I started reaching around like I was blind because a little girl who was completely black, and yet see through, crawled out from under the table we were across from and sat on top of me.
The children in my family have a thing with seeing ghosts. We have had 3 major incidents that have freaked out my family from all different generations and different “ghosts.”
The first incident was when my sister was just able to talk. My mom was driving past Peterson Tractor where my grandpa used to work and my sister pointed to the business and said “grandpa plays with tractors” well the strange thing was that my grandpa died when my mom was 15 and my mom had never mentioned him.
The next story happened almost every night when I was little. My mom would put me down for bed and I would immediately jump out of bed and go over to my grandmas vanity set she gave me before she died. I would say good night to whatever was over there and give it a hug. I would blow a kiss and say “good night grandma.” My poor mom has now had both of her children see ghosts.
The third story is the strangest. My aunt died of leukemia when she was 13, and then my cousin got diagnosed when she was 10. My cousin was laying in her hospital bed when she turned to my grandma and asked “who is that little girl in the white wicker chair?” My grandma had her describe the little girl and my grandma showed her a picture of Cheryl (my aunt who had passed) and she confirmed it was her.
I was working the 11-7 shift as a charge nurse in a nursing home. There was a patient named “Sam“. Sam had come to the home after a mugger had attacked him with a tire iron. The doctors had saved his life by removing the left side of his skull and part of his brain. Sam’s head looked like a basketball that was deflated on one side. Despite not really being able to take care of himself, he could read, watch TV, and engage in his favorite pastime, watching the young female nurses and aides. He wouldn’t do anything but put his arm around a girl’s shoulder to say ‘Thank You‘ when she picked up his dinner tray. That was it. So Sam became something of the nursing home mascot. But as it happens in this business, Sam died of a blood infection six months after I started there.
The night of his death, we were gathered around the desk for the report from Sandy, the 3-11 nurse, as she gave her report to me and three nurse’s aides. When Sandy came to Sam’s name, she said “Sam died at about 3:30 this after…”. Suddenly a call light came on. Everyone stared at the light board. The call was coming from Room 30. That room had been locked ever since the relatives had taken his belongings away. The call was coming from Sam’s empty, locked room.
We all went down the hall to see what this was about. We thought that another patient had probably gotten into the room and put on the call bell. Sam’s room was open, lights were on, call bell was pushed in ( old fashioned call light. Shape like a bell, you had to push the button in the center to call and turn it off by twisting the edge of the bell). Only one problem, no patient was up, the door was not forced, it was unlocked, all the staff were at the desk, the only one that had the key was the charge nurse and the door was locked when I made rounds not more then ten minutes before.
I mumbled something about loose wire. I twisted the call bell off, turned the room lights off, locked the door and went with the rest of the staff back to the Nurse’s Station. Sandy started the report again. She didn’t get more than 3 minutes into the report, when Sam’s call light came on again. We went down to find the room opened, lights on and call bell on, all patients in bed. I turned the call bell off, the lights off, and locked the room up again. Back to the desk. Report started again. The light came on again. By this time it was more nuisance than scary. So we decided to leave it on, continue report so that the other shift could leave.
After report, I went down to the room, turned off the call bell, replaced the old cord with a new call bell cord, turned off the room lights, and locked the door again. The bell stayed off but the signal on the board stayed on. We went down the longest hall- Sam’s hall- to start our work. As we passed Sam’s room the door was open but the lights were off. The Nurses aides felt a cold breeze up their skirts( remember Sam liked the ladies.) At that I went into the room to check if someone had opened a window. No window was open and no air conditioner was on in the room. I closed the door and locked the door again. And we continued. After we finished down that hall, we went past Sam’s room again. The door was still closed and locked. By the time we finished the 1st round it was 2 AM. Back at the desk, the call light in Sam’s room was off. We forgot about Sam.
We drank our, by now, cold coffee. I did my paper work and the aides exchanged small talk. At 3 AM, we started the second round down the long hall again. This time Sam’s door was open and the females felt an even colder breeze. I went into the room. It was like a vacuum as if the air had been sucked out. I opened the windows but no air could dispel the vacuum. I had had enough. I yelled, “Sam you’re dead! You spent enough time in this place. Get out of here!” I closed the windows, locked the door again, and joined the aides for rounds. I didn’t go in that room until around 6:00 AM. All four of us went for one last look. No vacuum, no breeze, sun shining through the window. Nothing to prove anything happened that morning. We didn’t want to tell the 7-3 shift and risk the whole day looking at ink blots, so we kept the occurrences to ourselves but this was only the beginning. We were not prepared for what was going to happen next.
The following night, I get a call at home from Sandy. She asked me if anything happened on 11-7 shift. I said “why?” Sandy stated this tale.
“Well when we were picking up the dinner trays we were one tray over. We passed out 26 trays and we picked up 27 trays.”
“Somebody miscounted.” I said.
“That may have happened. Only the 27th tray was outside Sam’s Room just as he had left it when he was alive…exactly as he left it.”
“Somebody is pulling a prank on you, Sandy”, I said.
“I don’t think so because when I stood up from taking the tray, I felt an arm around my shoulder just like Sam had put it. I was the only one down that hall.”
I then told her what had happened the previous morning. She said, “Well, it looks like we have ghost to add to the census.”
That wasn’t the end of the story. A week later another patient was admitted to Room 30. A retired university professor. One night her light came on. She had seen a man staring at her from outside her window. When I asked her what the man looked like, she said that he was not normal looking. The left side of his head was deflated like an old volleyball (she used to play volleyball a lot in her younger days). I told her that I would go around the building and see if I could see him. The police were called to look for a potential prowler. They found no one and no footprints outside the window; no grass disturbed. But I knew who it was. When I told the Nurse’s Aides, they knew who it was. Sam was back! Over the years every female patient that was in that room saw Sam staring at them through the window. No male patient would ever see him. For you see, Sam liked the girls.
I left the nursing home some years later so don’t know how long Sam stuck around. But these events were experienced and/or confirmed by various employees and patients. In my career working in nursing homes, reports like this are relatively common. I don’t know what to make of this, except that we just don’t know what happens after death and maybe some people just want to linger where they felt most comfortable. Sam did.
I don’t remember this, but my mom tells the story often. When I was somewhere around 2 to 3 years old, I used to play in my basement. My mom once asked me what I did down there, and I told her I would play with the kids that lived down there. She had me show here where they lived and I pointed to a huge coal furnace that was disconnected, with attached coal bin. She realized the door to the furnace was just latched in place, and kinda freaked out, thinking that I was playing inside. She had my dad weld the door on the furnace and coal bin shut.
Apparently I came up the next day crying. My mom says that when she asked me what was wrong, I had told her that my friends won’t come out to play anymore. They’re all gone.
This was around 7-8 years ago (13 or so). My brother and I shared a bedroom with 2 twin beds with blue sailboat sheets. Walls are a light blue and there is a TV next to a computer on the opposite wall from the beds ( Just painting the scene ). My brother goes to spend the night at a friends and I am sleeping alone in our room for the first time (I would generally sleep in my parents room, but knew I was getting too old for it. After getting past my fear of being alone in the dark, I finally turn off the TV and go to sleep. I got to sleep surprisingly quickly, but was woken up when my TV kicked on to a channel with static. I don’t know the time, but estimate it at around 2-3 AM. I get up and am a bit startled, but I begin to realize something. The computer chair (made up of old, beaten up plastic and fake leather) is slowly spinning. Enough to be noticeable, but not to be making full 360 turns. This is the part that still makes me look over my shoulder every night before turning out the light to make the horrifying journey to my bed. As I stare at the chair, with the static TV channel giving off that particular frequency that drives you nuts, I see an arm sitting on the armrest. As the chair turn a small girl is sitting there. The best I can describe her is straight out of The Ring. Keep in mind this was years before it was released. The girl did nothing but sit, knees curled up to chest, staring, looking, silently waiting. As the chair continued its rotation the feeling of dread dissipates and the TV clicks off. At this point I freak the fuck out. I start screaming for my dad. My parents were across the house and didn’t hear me. I sat there for 4 hours waiting to die that night. To make matters worse, I befriended a girl who I found out long into our friendship was a wicken. After I told her this story, She said, ” Don’t be afraid. I have seen that spirit in your house. She only wants to help you.” I must admit I felt better after that, but still….. mother of god.
my cousin owns a home in upstate NY, its nearly 200 years old. The first night that I am there I wake up in the the middle of the night to take a piss (I am about 11 or 12 at the time). I open the bathroom door and standing right in the middle of the bathroom looking at me, like, “hey, I’m in here”. He was a little boy of about 6-8 in 1920s or 30s attire! I freaked screamed and slammed the door, opened it and he was gone. My scream was enough to wake up everyone in the house. I was told that it was nothing and to go back to sleep. It wasnt for another several years that my cousin told me that there was a small boy that died their around the depression, he had fallen down the bumb waiter that lead from that bathroom to the washroom in the basement!! I still remember the kids face vividly (I’m 23 now). and it still gives me goosebumps when I give it any serious thought….