My name is Kayla. I live on the South Side of Chicago. I live with my mom in a little two story house with our dogs, Tasha and Gretchen, our cats, Gibby and Daisey, guinea pig Muffin, and parrots, Spot and Pacco. The house we live in used to be my great aunt and uncle’s house, Diane and Bill. They were brother and sister.
Anyways back to the story, my uncle Bill had a heart attack by the front door one morning and died. My aunt Diane died in a nursing home when I was 2months old, so I never got to meet them. When they died, my mom fixed the house up and we moved in.
When I was two, I was sitting in my room playing while my mom was making dinner (my room is right next to the attic and kitchen). She heard me laughing and talking, so she went to see what I was doing, she said, "Kayla, who are you talking to?"
I replied, "No one," and pushed her out of the room.
She went back to making dinner and I kept talking and laughing, she went back in my room and asked again, "Who are you talking to?" and I said "Me friend."
My mom said "Who’s your friend?"
I said "His name’s Will-e-um, he from South Chicago."
When I said that my mom was shocked. I was talking to my great uncle Bill, whose real name was William, no one would ever call him William though.
My mom said when I was little we used to go to church a lot, when we would be walking up to communion I would be saying hi and waving at people, when no one would be there.
When I was about eight years old, I was laying on the couch with a bad headache. We just got back from Florida, and all the animals were at my grandmas still. My mom was in the basement doing laundry. It was probably six o’clock at night in Jan. When you’re laying on the couch you can clearly see the attic enterance, my bedroom door, and the hallway to the bathroom and my mom’s room. Anyways, I was laying on the couch and I saw this black figure come down from the attic stairs, turn and go into my room. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things and the beads hanging from my door were moving, and trust me they are heavy, it would take a person to walk into them for them to move. I would never sleep in my room when I was little. I would always feel like people were in there with me.
The one time I asked my mom if she was standing in my room at night checking on me. Another time I was sleeping in my mom’s room and I heard knocking on the wall. My mom heard it too.
Now that I’m older, whatever’s in the house with us doesn’t bother me. It bothers my mom. She’ll be in the basement doing laundry and she’ll feel something brush against her leg and nothing would be there, sometimes she says something plays with her hair and taps on her shoulder. My mom says our family has "the gift". Meaning we have the ability to see/hear/feel things that others cant. There are so many more stories about when I was little and things that happen in this house that I could write, but honestly, it would take forever. If you have any questions, feel free to email me.
Me, my mother and brother moved into a small house, it was very old. One day, like any teenager, I stayed up late watching television. All of a sudden I had an urge to look towards the hallway (We had a combined kitchen,dining and living room and the hallway was off the kitchen) and that’s when I saw her. The lady looked like she was
from the 1950’s or so, she had the old style hair and old style night gown and she was walking towards the hallway where she vanished behind the wall. I followed her but could not find her, I brushed that experience off and went to bed.
Another night came, it was late,I was watching television again when I saw a man - he looked like my brother, but I knew it wasn’t him. This guy walked from the hallway, through the kitchen, and into my brother’s room. I asked my brother if he just walked in the room and he said, "No, why?"
I told him what I sawand he was shocked. Later on I was thinking of what had happened and then realised that the man I saw had actually walked through the wall. Looking at where he walked through, I realised it used to be a doorway before someone blocked it off.
I moved out, but mum told me bad things keep happening to her now, getting choked from something she can’t see, hearing footsteps and more that I won’t say. I’m not sure who they were or why they were there. This happened in the year 2006 to 2007.
Thank you for taking the time to read my story.
Years ago, when I was a child (I’m 18 now) I loved music. One night when I was about seven years old I was listening to music through headphones. After listening to several songs I was getting ready to cut the radio off to go to bed when I heard a whistle.
It wasn’t just a whistle with a tune; it was a type of whistle that calls for your attention. What’s more is that the sound of the whistle completely drowned the music out. Both of my parents were asleep, I have no siblings and at the time, no pets. The television was off and in a completely different room.
I have never heard a whistle with that quality or tone except when I heard the same thing again a few years later, when I was alone. I still can’t explain that one.
The scariest experience I had was on the same night I heard the whistle. After I heard it, I left the room to sleep on the sofa. As I was lying on the sofa I heard a crash coming from the room next to me. When I approached the door I realized the light was on and the door open. I saw a shadow on the wall, like someone was in the room. Cautiously, I opened the door. There was no one in there, and there was nothing out of place to explain the crashing sound.
Years later, I have started to feel like someone, or something is watching me from inside that room whenever I walk by that room. I still do not have any explanations, but I would love to have some.
My first real encounter of these happenings was when I was around 12 years old. I was on holiday in Teneriefe with my grandparents and mum.
Me and my mum had just got back from going out for dinner etc. It was around 11ish and just after we got back my grandparents came back to the apartment we were staying in. Now the in the block of apartments we were right at the top no one to the side of us either just below ( you will see why this is relevant further on ). Soon after we came back I went to bed as did my mum and grandparents. Me and my mum were sharing a double bed.
I woke around 1:30 am because I needed the toilet. The hallway light was on so I though this should be easy (I dont really like the dark). As I was walking along the hall I had a peek into my grandparents room and they were fast asleep - I dont know why I did something just urged me to.
I went to the loo and got back into bed feeling a little colder then I did before as you do and I just brushed it off thinking there must be a draft or something. I awoke again not long after to the sound of high heels on our tiled floor. I at first thought it was my imagination and tried to get back to sleep but it carried on getting louder. It was quite slow as if it was trying not to wake me or my mum.
Now at this point I began to get worried. Then I heard my mum stay stop tapping and I figured she must be able to hear it. I waited around 5 minutes under the covers wondering wether I should scream or just stay there. Eventually I flung my arm out and hit my mum in the arm and shouted at her to turn the lights on. I sat bolt upright and searched the room with my eyes looking for the source of the noise. Nothing was there but I was in tears and was shaking. I had to sleep with the light on for the rest of the night, although i didn’t get much sleep after that.
In the morning I asked my grandma if she heard it and she said no. I also asked my grandad - neither of them did and my mum didn’t even realise she heard it.
I tried to think of a reasonable explanation like it could’ve been someone tapping on the cieling but I highly doubt that as it sounded like it was on the tiles and high heels. I refuse to stay in that apartment now as it has scared me to death. I’m not sure if this is relevant but the apartment number is 666 could that have anything to do with it?
Thanks for reading as I know it was extremely long
This incident took place shortly after the elderly dog of my late grandmother had to be put down due to painful and disabilitating illness. I was perhaps seven or eight at the time and had always feared being alone upstairs in my grandmother’s house due to a certain eeriness about the place.
One night my mother and I were staying at my grandmother’s house and my (then living) great aunt had come over also. The time was perhaps 10:00 and I was sat alone in an upstairs bedroom playing with some toy soldiers I had stumbled upon that had originally belonged to my uncle when he was a child. The bedroom in which I played was next door to my late grandmother’s room. I had never been in there but I had known that my grandmother’s dog, Jem (fake name) would consistantly sleep beneath the bed that my grandmother retired to. As I played, keeping my mind off my fear of being alone in the house, I could hear my mother and great aunt chatting quietly in the living room below, and due to the house being quite secluded, no other noise was audible besides the fabricated gunshots of the miniature soldiers.
Suddenly I stopped playing and froze, not daring to continue making any other noise. For another, more ominous noise had invaded the silence around me. Besides the gentle murmurs of my family members downstairs, there was an eerie sound of what sounded like breathing coming from my late grandmother’s bedroom. Both bedroom doors were open at the time and so it was quite audible. The breathing then revealed itself to sound more like panting. I strained my ears to listen harder and decipher what the noise was and where it was coming from. I eventually decided that it was the sound of a dog panting heavily. Something that Jem would do most of the time in her old age. The noise became louder and louder to the point that I felt that whatever was making the noise was in fact, sitting in the room with me. I was too frightened to move for a few seconds. But eventually I screamed, ran downstairs and refused to be alone upstairs for the rest of the night.
Though with age I have become far more sceptical of supernatural occurences, that experienced has never left my memory. Even today at the age of twenty I am completely unable to explain it. A similar pet incident did occur after our cat (Phylis) was buried in the garden just before a heavy snowfall. One morning as I stood in the garden I saw a set of pawprints in the snow starting in the centre of the garden and leading directly to the spot where she was buried.
About 11 years ago my wife and I lived in a small mining town on the Tasmanian West Coast. Queenstown was a world apart from what we had known. A populous of 2500 people all working on this or supporting an Old Copper mine. Half the town looked like a moonscape with no trees or life and the other was engulfed in a large rain-forest.
About 6 months into living in Queenstown my mother came to visit. Now up to this point we had worked all week and spent our weekends away in the nearest built up area 200 plus kilometers away. So with my Mum in town we tried to show her our little town and surrounding tourist attractions. One thing my Mum likes to do is visit Pioneer grave yards to see if it has people of similar names or how they passed.
We took a short drive maybe 2 minutes from our house to this old Pioneer grave yard. My son aged 4, my wife, my mother and myself. We eventually found it as the sign pointed to a person’s house. You have to walk down the side of their house and up a small track before you actually enter the yard.
We were stunned by the age of the graveyard, it housed the first settlers and generally for my first (and last) grave tour I was impressed at the history. My son was extremely bored plus because of the terrain and smashed graves with wrought iron broken about I had to carry him so he was less than impressed.
After several protests to get down and play he eventually started crying but as quickly as he had started he stopped. He then calmly asked if he could go and play with the boy and the girl. We assumed he meant two children who were playing down on the street below with a bouncy ball. I told him they were too far away and Granny wanted to look around some more. He said, "No not the girls, the boy and the girl over there."
He pointed to a line of broken graves the concrete tops smashed in. I asked him again where and he replied, "Over there with the lady holding the baby."
My wife and my mum stopped in their tracks. Of course it became my job to take the walk down into the area he had pointed to.
As I approached the graves it got even more strange. The first grave was that of a young lady who had died with her newborn. Next to that grave was that of a young boy who had died in a mining accident aged 11. The next grave was his sister a 13 year old who had died of tuberculosis ( I think that’s what it was). We hurriedly picked my son up and made our way back out. My son asked if he could say good by to the other lady we said no very firmly and continued on. Now my mother, who suffered from polio when she was a child, couldnt make it down to the three graves we were running from but she had already made it to the exit path. My son looked up straight to where she was standing and said, "Bye Mary."
My mum turned white there in front of her with the headstone facing her was the grave of Mary Thomas. Suffice to say we never went graveyarding again...
My friend Marnie lives in an apartment building which used to be a bakery that burnt down and there are rumours that a little girl died in the fire. I believe them to be true considering my experiences. This is story is a series of events occuring in the apartment.
One day creepy/weird things started happening in her apartment that everyone would experience except for her brother.One day just me and Marnie were there alone and in her computer room there are 2 chairs, one always against the wall and turned slightly, it was never moved and always stayed that way. So we were in the bathroom getting ready, and we heard weird noises like sqeeking and creeking so I went out and looked around and looked in the computer room. The chair was completly straight, and the picture had be pushed off the desk. Marnie had been in there alone and the picture would just go flying off the desk.
One day she and another one of our friends were there and her bedroom door can only be locked from the inside. So Marnie and the other girl were getting ready to go out and Marnie went to get something out of her room and the door was locked. There is no key for the door, she didnt lock it, that would be stupid. Then randomly it just opened. One day her mom saw the little girl running across the apartment, wearing a white dress.
Then one night Marnie and 2 other girls decided to a seance, at 3:00 AM. They sat in around her kitchen table with all the lights off and a few candles lit, all doors and windows closed. They started talking to the ghost. It was recently Marnies birthday and she had a tinfoilish birthday thing, and it started to move and make lots of noise, the cupboards started banging and then one girl got scared turned on the lights and called her mom and left. Ever since then nothing creepy has happened.
This incident happened way back in the ’70s, but it has stuck with me to this day. I was ten years old and my mom, dad, sister and I all lived with my Grandmother in a 100 year old farm house in upstate New York. My parents and my sister slept in bedrooms upstairs while my Grandmother and I had rooms on the first floor. One night in early autumn, when bad electrical storms can still roll through the Hudson Valley, I was raised from a sound sleep by an oncoming storm.
Lightning brightened my room like a strobe light. The thunder rolled and the wind picked up. With the wind there came this other sound. It made goosebumps race over my body. It was an ungodly howling. A wailing that didn’t, couldn’t have come from human lips. No animal I knew could wail like that. The Howler seemed to be right outside my window.
I was terrified. I jumped out of bed and raced to my grandmother’s bedroom. She was already sitting up in bed. I climbed in next to her and pulled up the covers.
"What is that, Grandma?" I asked. She assured me that it was just the wind. I knew it wasn’t the wind. And I knew she knew it wasn’t the wind. The wailing came around the house.
It got closer. It had to be right on the front porch, right outside Grandma’s window! Grandma put and arm around me and held me tight. The howling was right outside her window now, just a few feet away from us. I buried my face in her shoulder. After what seemed like an eternity the sound began to move away. It faded into the distance as the storm hurried on its way down the valley. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep.
Early the next morning I woke to sunlight streaming in the window. Grandma was already up. I climbed out of bed. And peaked out the window. I saw her outside already with a mop and a bucket, cleaning the porch floor. I hurried to the front door and stepped outside. From there I could see what my Grandma was cleaning. There were muddy footprints all over the floor! They were little, tiny footprints. The kind that might be made by a toddler. I got goose bumps again. I asked Grandma what made the foot prints. She didn’t answer and she kept cleaning.
At this point my sister, a year younger then I, came out to see what I was doing. She saw the foot prints too. I mention this because thirty years later when I was telling my wife this story, my sister was able to confirm seeing those tiny foot prints. She didn’t hear the Howler in the storm.