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upstairs neighbor  

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When my sister and I were young, we decided to explore the new apartment we were going to move into. It was two-stories with an attic. We went inside to see what it looked like, even though we weren't supposed to be in there. It was huge.

It had two large living rooms a dining room and kitchen on the first floor. There was an old white piano with peeling paint, and it needed a tune-up. I know this because we were hitting the keys and it sounded like it hadn't been played in forever.

Anyway, after playing with the piano, we decided to go upstairs. There were three bedrooms and a bathroom. The largest room had an attic, so we decided to take a look around. We opened the door to the attic, made it half way up then, we saw it. There was a ghostly image hovering at the
top of the stairs. It was white, but you could kind of see through it ... almost like how cotton looks when stretched to the fullest. It looked like a woman just staring at us. I was so scared, I turned around and jumped down the flight of stairs without touching a single one. I ran down the second flight and was out the door with my sister close behind.
The scary thing was that we lived next door. We told our mom about what we saw, but you know how parents can be sometimes.

In spite of what we saw, we ended up moving into the apartment. The room with the attic automatically was our mom's because we wanted no part of that room. There have been occasions when my youngest sister would tell us that she would feel like someone was holding her head down while she slept. It's been rumored that someone died in that apartment. My conclusion is "she" never left. We still talk about that apartment and the ghost we encountered to this very day.
roadrunner from cape may

1700's Ghost Lady  

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***1700's Ghost Lady

I was used to seeing ghosts. I have had many ghostly encounters throughout my life, as has my mother, grandmother, siblings and other members in my immediate family on my maternal side. Seeing or communicating with another ghost does not frighten me. When I was a child, ghosts would frighten me, but as I've grown up over the years, I've gotten used to them being around.

My story happened in early December 1982. My husband and I bought a lovely, old two-story house about one year prior to the event.

My husband, children and myself moved into this old house that actually sat on land that once served as refuge for escaped slaves through the underground railroad. The house was located deep back in the woodsof Ohio. I could tell right from the beginning that there was a creepy feeling about the whole place; like a sadness. It's hard to explain.

On one particular night, it was very cold and there was deep snow on the ground. I was feeling very exhausted, as I was pregnant with my son, and he was due to be born in about one week. It has been a long day, so I was glad for nighttime to finally come and have all of the children fall fast asleep in their bedrooms.

I was feeling uncomfortable that night. So that I could get some sleep and have the bed all to myself, my husband slept in the bedroom down the hall.

My bedroom was on the first floor, right by the bathroom. The children all slept upstairs on the second floor. I had a bassinet waiting for the baby in my bedroom that sat right next to the wall, close by the doorway at the foot of my bed. A lot of new baby blankets were folded very neatly and were laid on top of the bassinet.

Before I retired for the night, I took a warm shower and walked to the back of my bedroom. I looked out of the window, into the crisp cold night. A bright, full moon was shining and casting shadows from the many trees that surrounded our house. The white snow glistened in the moonlight.

I slipped into my long flannel night gown, and crawled underneath the warm blankets where I fell right to sleep.

After about two hours, I awoke suddenly. I opened my eyes and looked down past the foot of my bed. There I saw very plainly a young lady just sitting in the center of the bassinet on top of the bunch of folded baby blanket. Her dainty hands were folded on her lap. I noticed that she appeared to be "weightless", because although she was sitting on top of the soft blankets, their was no indentation from her body. The blankets still were in straight-folded order. They did not sink down in the middle and the bassinet stood without wavering.

The moonlight was shining in my window and I could see her very clearly by the light of the moon. She was just sitting there looking at me. I looked at her, and I noticed that she appeared to be very solid and life like. She was slim and frail, and her skin color looked very pale. Her age, I believe, was young, as she looked no more than 19 or 20. She had a very pretty face that bore no make up, or lipstick, or such. Her eyes were light blue, and her hair hung in long golden ringlets just past her shoulders. She wore a long, light blue dress to her ankles. The dress had long sleeves with white cuffs and a high button neck with white collar.

I could see the black toes of her shoes just barely sticking out from underneath her cotton dress as she sat quietly watching me. She wore a light blue bonnet with white lace around the brim. An untied white lace ribbon dangled loose on each side of her neck. I was thinking by her all dress or appearance she must of been from the 1700's.

After we stared at each other for at least a couple of minutes, I just closed my eyes and drifted right back to sleep. I slept for a few more hours, then I woke up again because I needed to go to the bathroom. When I opened my eyes, I saw she was still sitting there looking at me in the same position. I got out of my bed and proceeded to walk toward the door and right past the girl. She did not vanish or move. She sat deathly still, looking straight ahead toward my bed.

I walked the short distance down the hall to the bathroom. I used the bathroom, and while walking back toward my bedroom, I was thinking that this ghost apparition must be gone by now? But upon entering my bedroom, I found, to my surprise, the ghostly girl was still sitting there in the same place and position as before. I walked back past her and I sat down on the side of my bed. As I stared at her sweet, soft, pretty face, I decided to try to communicate with her.

So I asked her, "What are you doing here in my bedroom?" To my surprise, she replied in a very soft calm sweet voice, "Looking at you." As she spoke these words, her lips never moved, but still I could hear her speaking out loud. I asked her, "Why?" She said, "Because I'm lonesome." Then I asked her, "What is your name?" She replied, "Sarah...Sarah Brandon." I asked, "How old are you Sarah Brandon?" She answered, "17...Have you seen my Aunt Isabelle? I can't find her. I can't seem to find anyone that I know. Everyone seems to be gone." I asked, "Who?" Then she paused for a moment, then said, "I'm cold." Then she asked, "Can I sleep with you?"

After she asked that last question, I got irritated, then I replied in a stern sharp voice, "Well, no! Can't you see I'm pregnant, and I'm miserable, and my husband had to sleep in the other bedroom? That's why I'm sleeping alone in the first place!" Then there was a pause of silence, as we stared at each other. Then I heard her reply in a sad quiet voice, "Ooooohhhhh." Then she started to slowly fade away (not vanish). She first started fading from her face, from the inside-out, then the rest of her just faded on away and she was gone forever. I never saw her again.

This was one of the most interesting ghost experiences I've ever had. I never will forget it. I have had many others as well, also quite interesting. I think we can ALL communicate with ghosts, if we just only relax and TRY. It is our own FEAR that stands in our way.

Take the departure of our own loved ones, for instance. They're never really gone. They exist forever in our MINDS and in our hearts and in our longing. There is magic in our sense of longing. The magic is what keeps them alive. If we take away the magic, then we take away the capacity to love.


Rachel from Dublin

Freak Train  

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My friend Dalton and I were out in the yard at about 6:00 in the morning. We were acting stupid and stuff and had no fear (so we thought). See, I live in a small place called Sleepy Hollow (just kidding). My town is actually called Kenner Ville, California. Its a small town with about 1,500 people. My house is located in the country part of Kenner Ville in a heavily wooded area. There are bunch of trees behind my house.

Anyway, back to the story. Dalton and I were in the yard playing when we heard a train whistle. And because we're morons, we decided to look for it. Id heard the story of the creek behind my house. Supposedly, some dude named old man Cradic lived in an old shack out there and used to help unload trains that used to run on that track. I never believed them. Anyway, suddenly we heard the whistle again and again, seemingly getting closer. Dalton screamed, Oh my God!! and I looked to see what he had seen. Much to my surprise, it was train! No lies. No jokes. No playing around about it.

It was absolutely, positively a train. So, like any other normal human beings would do, we ran for our lives. Now that we are older, we still go down to that old creek just to try to see if we can catch a glimpse of old man Craddic driving that train.

John Turner from California

Midnight Visit By The Campfire  

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The house at the end of the dirt road is where we used to live. My three boys had lots of fun there. In the fall we were introduced to a homeless man who lived in the woods not far from us.

During that year he would come by from time to time when we were out having an evening fire. When the leaves would start to fall and the wind would pick up a bit, we would give the man blankets and an old tin coffee cup. My middle son seemed to befriend him the most. (He had a grandpa like affect on my sons.)

This man had no family to speak of, so sometimes he would stop by the campfire and tell stories of times that had since past. Halloween was a favorite time for my boys and we would end the night with a story told by me by the camp fire. One day this man had an unfortunate accident having been hit by a train along the tracks not far from our house. We went to his burial in the county cemetery; we were the only ones there. Years later my husband and I went to visit our children, now in there 20's.

We liked to stay at the local camp ground. Since it was the last day of the season and Halloween, my step son (who had never heard of this man) thought it would be fun for me to tell the parting story for the night. I told him of the story of this old man and how he would stop by for a warm drink when the campfire burned bright. Our kids said good night and went home. My husband and I did our last minute check of the area and turned in for the night.

I was awakened later by the smell of wood burning and heard the crackle of a campfire. I got up to check thinking that the fire may have ignited again so I put on my sweater and went outside. In the distance by the fire ring I could see that the fire was burning a steady flame. The wind was light in the air. When I noticed the outline of a man with a blanket around him sipping something hot from a tin cup. (Steam rose and faded from the cup.)

I adjusted my eyes and stopped walking to see the night fade this shadow to nothing. The fire seemed to die out and I returned to my cabin. My husband was sleeping soundly so I decided to not wake him up.

I smiled to myself and was happy for the visit and one better Halloween story.
Connie from Orlando,FL

The Stubborn Crooked Picture  

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My grandmother told me this story a few years ago: When her mom was in the hospital slowly dying from brain cancer, she kept a picture of Jesus above the bed. It was a hologram - one of those that changes between two pictures when you shift it. One picture was of Jesus kneeling to pray and the other was of Jesus going toward heaven.

On the week before her death, my grandmother noticed the picture on the wall was crooked. It showed Jesus praying. She straightened the picture. When she stepped away from the picture it was crooked again. No matter how many times it was adjusted, the picture shifted back to being crooked to show Jesus kneeling to pray.

When my great grandma finally passed away, the picture was straight again and showed Jesus going to heaven. My grandmother said that this was the single most comforting thing to see after her mother had passed. It reassured her that God was watching over her in her time of need and that her mother was on her way to heaven to be with the Lord.
chelsea from oroville


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