1. The Gift
From 3 until 13 I lived in a nice home out near Yosemite national park, nothing super spectacular about it, 4 bedrooms, a den, dining room, the norm.
Just down a little dirt road and (if you’ve ever been around those parts you’ll know) miles away from civilization. My whole childhood I was visited by this girl in white, she never spoke, I would just wake up at night and see or feel her there.
I asked my dad and his response every time was ‘the men in our family can see ghosts.’ My rationale of this (I’m a skeptic, I remain that to this day but the story I’m telling made me question) was that we had some sort of mild schizophrenia running through our family.
It didn’t bother me, she didn’t look like other people. There was something ‘off’ about her. After my father died my mother decided to sell the house and went through a realtor. We never once had contact with the buyers, only knew them by name.
The buyers had a son who went to the same school as our old neighbors (dear friends of the family) and the son apparently came to school without sleep repeatedly, complaining that there was a girl who watched him at night and that he needed to get out.
2. The Basement
I am the eldest of 3 siblings and of course as we moved house to house I got the basement bedroom most times. I was fine with this being the eldest this let me have privacy. The last home I lived in with my family before I moved out on my own I spent 5 years in the basement bedroom.
Through those five years I experienced amazing night terrors and sleep paralysis on a very regular basis.
There were a few incidents where I would wake up and the closet on the far side of the room would be open just a crack, and I’d stare at it knowing I had closed it, and it would creek open just a touch more, then after what would seem like hours slowly close and click shut (not a slam, not a regular door close, a very slow methodical one if that makes sense).
On 2 specific nights I woke up, not suddenly like something jarred me, but just kind of rolled over and at the foot of my bed saw a girl standing there. She looked very young, black hair, dark dress, and she did not move, didn’t make a sound, and I never could make out a face.
Both times I reverted immediately back to being 5yrs old and hid my face under the sheets while my heart rate went full marathon pace. Eventually I would feel like it wasn’t there anymore and I’d peek out and it would be gone.
My parents are not believers in anything paranormal and I never told them anything thinking they would think I’m crazy. I chalked it up to night terrors and extraordinarily realistic dreams during paralysis. I moved out and far away, my next sibling in line got the coveted “adult room” in the basement and life went on.
I had a few Christmas visits and other holiday runs and at one point I remember going into that room to get a chair and seeing the closet door nailed shut from the outside.
I didn’t question it as I thought there’s no way it’s related to my experience. Not long after that on another return visit home I went and checked the door to that closet. The nails were gone but in place was a padlock and there was clearly bundles of sage/sweetgrass handing above the closet and above the only exterior window in.
I worked up the nerve to ask my mom what’s the deal with the basement and she reluctantly told me that my brother had seen “things” come in and out of the closet and that he had a girl appear beside his bed and terrorize him on several occasions.
Now, no joke, I still haven’t told them what I saw because I don’t want them to have to move or be bothered with their basement over this, they are both retired, all kids have moved out, and they seem happy. They have also since gutted and renovated the whole basement, I’ve stayed there a few times now with my wife and nothing has happened.
3. The Young Man
We moved into a house and everything was really quite the first 6 months or so. The neighbors told us that the people who lived there before had moved after their teenage son died in a motorcycle accident.
Then after that first 6 months my dad died, not in the house, after that, stuff started to happen. I would have friends sleep over and one night my friend woke me up because she said there was a young guy standing in my bathroom.
So I went and checked and nothing was there. Over the next few years just about any friends that stayed over night had said they saw the tall blonde young guy walking around the house. We did have a few other things happen like a wine glass was on the counter and it broke.
No one was touching it, it just shattered on the counter. Another time during the winter we had the heater on and my room was always the warmest in the house and it was ice cold as you walked across my bedroom to the bathroom that was connected.
The creepiest thing was when my boyfriend was sleeping on the couch in the middle of the night and he said he woke up to a young guy pushing him off on to the floor. He said the guy didn’t say anything, but my boyfriend at the time knew that he had to leave and he did. He wouldn’t stay at my place after that.
4. The Phantom Hand
To really get my story you have to have an understanding of my third floor landing.
There’s a single set of stairs that lead up to it, once on the landing it’s a T-Shape, with an Office the left, my bedroom to the right, and straight ahead is a bathroom with a shower.
Anyway, one night, ~10PM I’m taking a shower before I head to sleep. The glass panels on my shower is that like, concave/convex glass that blurs everything, so everything was blurred and unclear. I glance at the door and I see some kind of hand like figure.
Now, it was pitch black, so right there it freaked me out because I come from a family of pale white welsh people. What freaked me out more was how the hand seemed to come through the door, or at least an angle where whomever the hand belonged to would be visible.
All it did was hit the lights. That’s it. No noise, no attack or anything, it just turned off the fucking lights. So there I am, I just witnessed a phantom hand, and now I’m in my shower and it’s pitch fucking black.
I’ve never been so chilled to the bone before, something about being in the darkness of the night, with the only noise being the water hitting the floor beneath me, just reduced me to the most primal state of pure fear I’ve ever been in. I eventually get myself to leave the shower and hit the lights. The relief that came over me was immense.
I’ve never been able to explain it. The stairs up to the landing are old and creek like hell, I would’ve heard someone come and go down. No one was in my room, or the office. Weirder still, nothing like it has happened since.
5. The Imaginary Friend
I lived on 13 acres, most of it was forest. I was eight, hardly ever home alone but when I was this kind of thing would happen all of the time. Only when I was alone. The doors would open while they were locked, my young dogs would run up to the door and stay 10 feet away barking at something I couldn’t see while I hid behind the bar clutching a knife.
At the same home, my younger sister and I would play in the woods with just our dogs. At 5 and 7 years old we had an imaginary friend that we both would talk to and could hear what it was saying. Our dogs would follow it when it would walk away and run around it in circles as it moved around.
I revisited that house 8 years later and saw a figure moving along the edge of the woods, it looked the same size as our friend. When I told my sister, she told me she saw it too but no one else did. I didn’t realize until I was older that there was no way we both should have been able to hear it, or that the dogs shouldn’t have been able to see it.
6. The Other Mother
When I was sixteen I was sitting at a table with my mom talking about life, musing on the afterlife and reincarnation.. The usual. I began to laugh and say “you know, I’m pretty sure I remember my past life”. This was about the time her face went pale. I asked her why.
That’s when she began to list all of the details of my silly past life which I always felt was just a recurring dream I must have. She told me how I was the youngest child in a family of poor travelers. How my crib was the top drawer of any dresser where we would sleep and my mother was a tall, bony, angry looking woman with her hair pulled high, always wearing a long dress. All the details I was about to tell her, for what I thought was the first time.
“How did you know all of that? I’ve never told you before!” I said.
“Because that isn’t the first time you’ve told me”, she said, “you told me that story many times when you were a baby, after you first learned to talk.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“And the worst thing…” she said with a dark brow, “was when I would come to play with you…and you would tell me your other mother was behind me.”
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