• Here is another story from my past expereience.
• About 31 years ago I married a man from New Jersey. We had gone to TN to visit relatives who had been living there for 5 years and just loved it. After seeing the sights and looked into the jobs we decided to stay. I had met all of his family except his mother who had died 5 years earlier. My husband John and his brother-in-law had gone out for the evening so I was there alone. My sister-in-law was at work for the night. I went to bed around 11:00 and woke up at 1:00 to see an image of an older woman standing in the doorway. She had her arms folded in front of her and was wearing a blue print dress with a white collar. Her gray hair was neatly pinned to the top of her head and she was smiling at me. At first I thought it was a dream but then I sat up on the side of the bed and there she was still smiling. I remained there for a few minutes and decided to get out of the bed and get a closer look. I was about 3 feet away from her when suddenly straightened up and put her hand up to stop me. She was shaking her head no but the smile remained on her face. After a few more seconds she nodded and vanished away. I could not go back to sleep after that. The next morning when everyone was awake I started telling what had happened. My sister-in-law started to cry and left the room. When she came back she had a picture in her hand. When she handed it to me you could have knocked me over with a feather. It was a picture of the woman that I had seen. It turns out that it was their mother and she was wearing the exact same dress that she had on when I saw her in my room. It was the dress she was buried in. I had never seen this picture before and had never met her. It was a very strange feeling for awhile.

Here goes my Ghost Experience, for what ever is worth,... I am 38
The Goat Whisperer:

Years ago I worked in a government land management office in a position with a high degree of public contact. One of the characters that use to come into the office was a homeless man named Martin. He was quite old and succumbing to the ravages of aging. He lived in the mountains in an abandon cabin with his small heard of goats. Martin was what we might call eccentric. He had no regrets for his life style. Periodically people would see him in town and buy him lunch, or a new pair of boots or some other supplies. He didn’t bath often and you had to roll your window down if you gave him a ride any where. But he was a genuinely pleasant little man. He loved to tell stories about his goats. He claimed telepathic communication with members of his herd and other animals. He once told a story of a mother cougar that wanted to eat one of his goats, but he communicated with her through his thoughts and asked her not to eat his goats. He claimed the cougar agreed and often use to come and just hang around the cabin with no ill intent. One spring I saw Martin walking in town and I honked my horn and waved to him. He waved backed and looked good for the life he lived. Later, as I was talking to someone at work about seeing Martin for the first time since fall and they informed me that Martin didn’t make it through the winter. It appears that Martin made at least one more trip to town.

When “The Ghost Whisperer” first aired I had to laugh because I immediately thought of Martin and his goats. I always refer to your show as the “Goat Whisperer”. No… I’m not pulling your leg. Good show, keep up the good entertainment.
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yrs.

Place your cursor in an empty cell and start typing your story! Earliest Memory My earliest memory was of my maternal Grandfather, whom my brothers and I called “Foddy” because we couldn’t say “Grandfather”. It was Foddy who taught me to fish and play cards and he would take Stewart, Bryan and myself on trips downtown just to see the city. One day, when I was about five years old, I saw Mom and Dad all dressed in black and looking very sad, especially Mom. They had left a baby sitter with us. I was 5, Stewart was 4 and Bryan was 2. When I asked them where they were going, Mom told me that they were going to Foddy’s funeral. I didn’t understand, but I let it go. I didn’t find out until it was explained to me later. Foddy had been ill because of a couple of heart attacks he’d had in previous years. One day, he went to lie down on the couch at his and Granny’s house. He had a third heart attack and passed away while he slept. Granny came home and found him dead. After Foddy had been buried, I began having disturbing dreams about him. They consisted of myself being in the cemetery. I sank into the ground and I would be looking at him as though I was looking through a cross section of the ground and through the casket at him. Pretty wild for a five year old kid who knew nothing about death, only that his grandfather was in Heaven. About a year later, Mom and Dad took the three of us boys over to Granny’s house to spend the night. We had some dinner and then watched Granny’s color TV and then went to bed. Stewart and Bryan slept in the back bedroom and I slept in Foddy’s old bed. I had trouble sleeping beccause, not only was I in a strange bed, but I had the feeling that I was being watched. I sat up and looked over toward the bedroom door and sensed a presence there! It gave me a terrible fright and I woke Granny up and pleded for her to call Mom and Dad to come and get me. As soon as I became frightened, the presence vanished. Mom and Dad came and got me and took me home to where I slept in my own bed. Thinking about it now and looking back, I’m pretty sure that it was just Foddy looking in on me, checking out his beloved wife and his grandson. I never told anyone about this until last month. I told Bryan and it gave him the creeps. But that was the first. -Scott L. Spencer

The incident took place in Austin, Texas on August 14, 1995 between 11:30pm and Midnight. A friend of mine who I shall call James had been going thru some bad times of late. He had been suffering from partial paralysis from an injury he had sustained years ago in a diving accident. His business was failing, his bank account was dwindling and since he had lost his lease with the apartment he lived in, he had to live with a friend until he could get back on his feet. As sometimes happens in all of us, James lost hope and felt that there was no way out and so, committed suicide. I was told about this the next day by a mutual friend of ours. A bunch of us got together later to remember him & grieve. Two nights later, while at a payphone at the corner of S. Lamar and Barton Skyway (a well lit street corner) talking to a lady friend, I caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of my right eye. I looked to my right across the street and saw James! He was walking without any sign of paralysis at all! He looked completely solid. As he walked he looked at me, smiled, nodded, and then disappeared! Oddly enough, I was not frightened by the experience, but I sure was surprised. I went and told another mutual friend of ours of my encounter and he told me that he had heard that James' Sister In Law had also seen him. According to her report, she was making some sandwiches in the kitchen of the house she shared with her husband, Drew (James' brother), when she felt a chill, followed by the feeling that she was being watched. When she turned around, James was standing in the doorway of the kitchen a few feet away from her. He spoke to her saying, "I'm okay. Everything’s alright. Where's Drew?" She screamed and he disappeared. She and I are the only ones who saw him. Two days later, James was taken to Dallas and laid to rest there. As far as I know, his ghost has not been seen since. -Scott L. Spencer

Friday, January 28, 2006. While vacationing in Los Angeles, I went out to Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery in Culver City to take some pics of some celebrity graves. I got pictures of the graves of Sharon Tate, Bing Crosby, Bela Lugosi, Rita Hayworth, Rosalind Russell and wanted to get pictures of several others. As I was searching (in vain) for the grave of Mr. Jimmy Durante, I happened to look to my left and I saw, standing about 30 yards away, a young man who looked to be in his late 20's gazing at me. It was around Noon. He was a white male, about 5' 10' with thick, black well kept hair. He was wearing a long sleeve, white dress shirt and black suit pants. He looked at me in such a way that I thought he was annoyed with me or just curious. I took my eyes off of him for approximately 3 seconds while I got my bearings once again and then glanced back his way to give him a smile and a wave. Much to my puzzlement, though, he was gone. I scanned the area where he had been standing and he was nowhere to be found. In the particular area in which he'd been standing there are no trees and there is absolutely no way possible that he could have gotten out of sight so quickly unless he'd had a jet engine strapped to his back. One moment he was out in the open, the next, he was gone! My puzzlement became astonishment as I realized it was a ghost I saw. This ghost, however, looked slightly familiar, but I just couldn't place him. About a week later, after I had returned home, I started scoping out the Find A Grave website for celebs graves I'd missed. I clicked on one name and as I looked at the face of the actor there, I gasped! Before me was the very face of the ghost I had seen in the cemetery. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I saw the ghost of Vince Edwards. Who was Vince Edwards? In the 1960's he was best remembered as Dr. "Ben Casey". -Sott L. Spencer

My ghost story is kind of weird because I still don't understand it. I moved into this house with my family and until last month i slept in the downstairs room. But I just moved my things into the only room upstairs. That night I started having dreams about this little girl and then about radioactivity and crazy things that you couldn't even make up. I would wake up late at night and I could swear I heard someone in there. My phone charges right by my bed and it is connected to an extension cord that has an on and off switch. One night my phone kept making the noise it does when you plug it in to charge. It was as iff someone was flipping the switch on and off. Then when i got up to see what was wrong a sock got thrown at me. I looked around expecting to see 1 of my little sisters but no one was in my room. The next night I woke up again but when I opened my eyes I could see, not smoke, but fog in my room. I paniced because my 1st instinct was that there was a fire but when i went downstairs there was no smoke, no fog. Just in my room. I turned on the nightlight and the fog was still there. I couln't figure out what was going on so I called my mom into my room and when she went with me all the smoke was gone. So if anyone has ANY explination, enlighten me. _Love_

Okay, I'm not so sure if i even say anything but i know i have it on film and it's really creepy, i went to Gettysburgh Pennsylvannia with some friends to attend one of their Ghost tours. Well, we attended this orphanage tour and well, in it we had to climb inside of " the dungeon" and see where this woman chained up the little kids. while we were in it, me and my friends decided to take a few pictures and see if we could catch any orbs on film , in the end we caught a whole bunch. One in particular looked like a little boy, dressed in a night gown type thing and he had this utter look of horror on his face. and the real creepy thing was that he was looking directly at the camera..,..... it was the scariest thing i have ever seen.............. and if you all don't mind. Please visit my wiki page...................www.make-me-sing/wetpaint.com....i need something, anything, and hopefuilly you all can help, it's a page about anything, so post anything you want....thanx

The year before I was born, my 3 year old sister and 4 year old brother went to be with the Lord as a result of a tragic house fire. One day while visiting my grandmother she yelled into my room asking me who was I talking to since I was by myself. I told her that I was talking to the little boy and girl in my room and they were my friends and knew who I was. My grandmother just stood there a while, looking into my empty room. I never saw them again that I can remember, but I am sure that they must have been Jimmy and Patty. I also know I WILL see them again, and what a laugh we will have about scaring my grandmother! Blessings, Cindy Lou (NJ)

Back in 1979 I was married to a southern boy who played guitar in a country western band. He also played the lead singer most nights until 4 in the morning. I decided to go home to my mother. Going home to my mother was not like just going home. My father was a Presbyterian minister who had spent a lifetime moving around the country to different churches. They were currently pastoring a church in Montana. I didn’t even know where Montana was on the map. But on October 31st I packed up my bags and my 2 year old daughter and took a plane there anyway. They were living in a large old two story parsonage right next door to the church. Odd things started happening almost immediately. By November 4th it had started snowing heavily. And the temperatures dropped to 25 degrees below zero. My mother told me odd things happened when the temperatures got so low. I didn’t think much of this until one very cold night. Everyone was sleeping soundly in bed. A noise that sounded like an explosion in the upstairs hallway woke everyone up. I thought the hot water heater in the upstairs bathroom had exploded. My father thought the furnace had exploded. We searched every part of the upstairs. Then we searched everything downstairs. Nothing was amiss. My father said it must have just been the cold that caused the noise. And my mother was very upset that the church had not taken steps to put up the storm windows on the upstairs windows to keep the cold air out. The church finally did put up the storm windows. But not because of my mother’s constant complaints about the cold. One night about 2 am I was awaken by a noise. I found my 2 year old trying to crawl out our 2nd story bedroom window. She had managed to open the window and had kicked the screen out and was half way out the window before I grabbed her. When I asked her why she had done that she didn’t seem to remember any of it. The next day the church elders had the storm windows securely fastened on all the upstairs windows. As Christmas was fast approaching, my father decided to buy a real tree since he had a grandchild visiting. The tree was put up in the downstairs living room. My mother had not wanted a real tree to clean up after and was not happy about not being able to use her fake one. But she became even more upset about the tree when the branches started moving. The branches moved as though there was a breeze in the house. She checked the tree carefully for animals. None. She checked all the heating vents. She checked everything and could not imagine what caused the tree branches to sway in the totally still living room. She was telling one of the parishioners about this and laughingly said she thought the house was haunted. The parishioner responded was a resounding “I don’t believe in ghosts.” The utility closet door opened and a broom fell out and hit the non-believing parishioner on the head. My mom laughed about this, but was very glad to remove the tree after Christmas. One afternoon mother was looking for a skeleton key that opened something in the house (I have no memory of what the key actually was for). She could not find this key anywhere. My daughter went into the bathroom and opened a compartment that none of us had known was there and pulled out the missing key. When we asked her how she had known to look there she just stared at us. In February I managed to find a good job in Billings, about 100 miles away. I frequently came home on weekends to help my mother keep the large old parsonage clean. It wasn’t long before my mother began to complain that every time I left she would find broken toy pieces in a trail from the dining room to the living room. When I questioned her it didn’t sound like anything my daughter had. But pretty nearly every time I’d visit I would get the same phone call. One day at work I got stuck alone in the lunch room with the receptionist. This was not a good thing. Our receptionist was as stuck in the 60’s as Austin Powers. She always wore white go-go boots with a not very flattering mini skirt and talked non-stop about absolutely nothing. She was the absolute poster child for “air head”. There was no polite way to escape this woman. So I sat quietly and listened to her nonstop blabber. After a while something caught my ear and I began to really listen to what she was saying. She had been complaining about her ex-husband and his incessant drug use. She said she felt very sorry for him but could not put up with the drugs any more. Apparently his drug use was his way of escaping a horrible childhood. His father had kept his mother prisoner in their house. He had horribly abused his 3 sons. In fact, he had even murdered a little girl that had come to stay with them. He had murdered her by pushing her out an upstairs bathroom window. And he had gotten away with it because he was a pillar of the community. In fact, he was the minister of the Presbyterian Church --- the same one my dad was currently at. As soon as I got home I called my mother and told her this story. She was very quiet for a while. Then she told me she had started collecting the broken “toy” pieces my daughter kept leaving all around the house. The pieces fit together. And they were not from a broken toy. They appeared to be the broken pieces of an old fashioned picture frame. My mom started asking questions around town to find out more about the story I had told her. There had been a minister living in the house that had had 3 sons. The old woman across the street had given the boys piano lessons. When mom asked this woman about the boys she became very nervous and did not want to talk about them. The minister’s wife had had some sort of vague illness and he had set up a bedroom of sorts in the dining room downstairs. She had seldom left this area and never went upstairs. Mom also asked around town if anyone had ever died in the house. She was told a very young girl who had come to visit this minister had died while she was staying there. My mother asked if the girl had fallen out the upstairs bathroom window. The parishioners she asked just laughed at her. They said that at the time this had happened, the house was being remodeled and that there was scaffolding outside that bathroom window. They said the little girl had died of pneumonia. Mother was unable to ask any more questions, because the minister was very well thought of, frequently returned to visit the parish and she did not want to upset people. I don’t know if my mother ever finished putting together the old fashioned picture frame from the pieces that mysteriously appeared after our visits. I remarried and my new husband did not get along well with my parents. I seldom went down to visit after that and never heard anything more about the house. And within a few years my father retired from that church and moved to California. My mother passed away in 2000. ---rbrinkert---

My Hooded Figure I glanced at the computer clock, realized the time....midnight, and quickly closed out of my internet games, msn, and every other website that could slow down my computer. I turned off the moniter, so the display light wouldn't beat into my parent's room. Rolling out of the chair, while is squeaked it's moaning sounds as I got up, I peaked out the windows. I couldn't see much; we live in the middle of nowhere. The only lights were that of the security light beside our small house. It bounced light into the leaves of trees, the ground, and most of my mom's walkway garden. The trellis over the walkway was made of wood but, more importantly, hand made by my dad. It reminded me of something that should be in a Japanese garden. Blood stained a few pathway rocks below it. My dad had had an accident while making it. It had rained a few times (the summer had been extremely dry) but the blood remained. I walked out of the room, turned the lights off behind me, and proseeded towards the kitchen to get to my bed room. I looked out the kitchen's window that hovered over the sink. The trellis was still in view and the blood came back to remind me of my dad's small accident. I paused infront of the window, a creeping chill ran up my arms to my spine. An image of this television show popped into my head. It had been about a little girl who could see spirits, her parents were concerned when she always mentioned her, "friends". Her friend had been this older man, who passed away long before she was born, but above all was very friendly to the child. There was also this "hooded" figure. He wore a black sweatshirt and a pair of sweat pants. He had been a...as you would say villian? Either way, he had scared the girl and she felt harm come off of his aura. Somehow with the light beating against the trellis this hooded figure appeared near it. It looked exactly like the hooded figure in the television show, and another set of chills set off from my spine to my neck. I quickly picked back up my pace and headed to my bedroom. I shut my door and dived into bed. I pulled the blankets over my head and shut off the light. I stilled my breathing and thoughts of panic swept through my head. What if this is THAT man? What if it is just my friends playing jokes on me? Would my friends come all the way out here to do a meaningless joke? It was just my imagination, I'm sure of it. Okay! Now quit panicing!! It is just my imagination! The chills continued so I reached down from my bed and turned on my bed heater. I shuttled my hand back into bed as if something would bite me from underneath my bed. Darn imagination. I pulled my head under my blankets again. The chills subsided after I started thinking about the following day, when my brother would come visit for the day. Soon, I was suffocating in the heat, so I pulled my head out from under my toasty covers to get fresh, cold, air. I sighed in relief. I peared out my window to the security light beaming off the trees and the metal shed. The hooded figure slid infront of my window and reached out for the glass. I tried to scream, but I beared it in. I didn't want to wake my parents over my imagination. I pulled my head under the sheets to keep myself from peaking out the window. I soft thump hit the window like a person dropping a pillow on the floor. I recalmed myself and slowly slid back up to the pillows. It was okay, just tonight, I could live through my mind for one night. Couldn't I? I inhaled the air with relief, again. The cool air relaxed me. I couldn't resist the temptation so I looked out the window again. The figure was gone so I rolled over on my side to get comfortable. My breathing became even and my eyes were closed within time. I heard my door creak open to a crack. Okay, so I didn't latch it all the way. It usually does that when the air conditioning turns off and on. My mind also drifted back to the man. It's just the cat, he likes curling up on my warm bed... The door opened wide, like a person slamming the door in anger, the only thing different was the door was slammed open; Funny how silent it opened. The figure stood there. My breath caught and I broke into a cold sweat. Just my imagination! QUIT! QUIT! I'm dreaming I must me! I closed my eyes and reopened them. The body was closer. A cold presence drifted over me, though the AC was turned off. A wheeze was all the sound heard, but my terrified thumping, no, drumming heart. The hooded facade leaned over my bed, as if it was stretching its legs so it didn't have to get on the end of my bed. The hood held no definite outline. No skin. No body! I immediatly imagined I felt like the little girl, younger than I. How could she bear this? I, at 13, felt like screaming my head off; I would much rather do that instead of face this torcher. A smoky, hazy, cloud hovered directly over me. I was helpless. My imagination had bested me. A low moan escaped from the prisoned ghost. I looked around hopefully. Nothing to help me, so much for hopeful. I leaped over the side of my bed. My legs got caught in a blanket and I fell onto my floor. Surely my parents had heard that? I bounded towards my shut door. Why was my door shut? I KNOW that door was wide open the few seconds that seemed like hours, while I was in bed. I viewed, from the corner of my eyes, that there was no hooded image over my bed. No wheezing breath. No moaning. No proof. I looked to my suddenly iced over window. How could it be iced over when it had to be in the 70's? A single hand print was set in the middle of the glass. That hand was too big to be mine, and no one would reach up that high to touch the window. I turned my head to my bed then back to the window. I pulled at the string that looped to my ceiling fan lights. I sat on the edge of my bed with my arms crossed. I rocked back and forth, biting my lip. I must've had too much soda tonight. I leaned over the end of my bed. Two mud foot prints were there. Those were some big impressions. No one wore shoes into my room; the carpet was pale and it stained easily. How could they have found their way into my room? My bed made a sound that could make anyone laugh, but it made me jump. I looked behind me. No one. I heard a paper crinkle. Of course, I looked behind me again. A single paper was waded onto my pillow. The ball looked so tiny, resting in it's place. I debated on whether I should reach for it. My curiousness bested me; Strange how I my curiousness and imagination easily beat up my mind. It was like an unfair wrestling match, two against one. A vocabulary word popped into my head "Conflict: A problem that involves the four types of conflict, Man vs. man, man vs. nature, man vs. unknown, and MAN VS. SELF. Okay, in my case it was woman but I am sure it applied to the same consept. An urge to laugh engulfed me and I broke out into giggles. What did I find so funny? I was in the middle of a haunting. Maybe I was going crazy, maybe I AM crazy. I had a feeling that I was overreacting to some stupid television show. I reached out and opened the waded paper ball. The notebook paper had that yellow color of an older piece of paper. I wrinkled my forehead and smoothed out the sheet. Three words sprawled across the paper in an uneven, scribbled manner. "We are here.". I reread the words again. We are here had so many meaning. Who was this "we"? I already knew who that was. But, was there more ghosts that I didn't know about? Was I somehow linked to this person, or did they just appear to peak in on an average teenage girl's life? I set the paper on my desk and threw back my covers and climbed it. I turned off my lights and pulled the sheets up a bit. I breathed in my air conditioned fresh air. I quickly drifted to sleep and dreams of what happened flowed fluently and freely through my head. The next thing I knew I was being shook awake by my mom. I bared my arms as if to strike. She had scared me half to death, if she woke me like that I would be joining the cloaked figure. I continued out of my bed and to my breakfast. The rest of the day was normal. Too normal. So were the next few months. Ever since then everything has been normal. Sometimes when I got off my computer at midnight and looked out the kitchen window I saw the hooded body. Never had it came closer than the window of my bedroom. In a way I felt connected to this man. Never had this story been passed out of my mouth, let alone typed in words. Now, my mind is puzzled with why that one young girl was scared of the man. He was completely friendly to me; Atleast, I think he was always friendly, just scared my the first night. In some ways I found it neat to have my own supervisor in the night. But, was he just there in the night? Who said he couldn't be there, always, watching me? After a few more weeks I came to the conclusion that he was bound to just watch me. It was as if he had broken a rule of a Spirit Community of contacting a human and informing that ghosts are real. Then my final conclusion was that the reason of him spooking me one night was to notify me that the dead is living, they can live, they are real, ghosts ARE real. After I thought of this I never saw the ghost again. No hooded figure. I felt a strange saddening feeling in my stomach. Just like hearing the bad news of my dad's accident. Maybe he had "passed on", or maybe he had just moved on to spread the word to another mortal since I hadn't told a soul of my strange night. But, of course, I am leaning to the passing on and I hope that he has found his place in his new world. -I hope you like it. Haley Fulk

I grew up with a good friend who used her gift for contacting the otherside to help law enforcement break many missing person cases.

As I grew up she told me of thing I would be doing in my life, oneof the major forces would be joining the military and traveling overseas but I never quite believed her until she helped me with my friend.
At 16 I worked at McDonalds like many in the early 1980's, one summer friday night we had a crew party at one of our houses and deceided to go back to the store and make up some food for the party. I was to work the midnight shift and deceided to stay after everyone left to go back to the party. I was about two hours into my working and I was walking thru the dinning area and I saw one of the hostesses, Patty, standing there asking me to change the trash bin as she did every morning. I at first thought I was drunk or just tired but just 20 -------minuets later the group returned to the store saying that their was a auto accident. They were racing backing to the party and Jackie and Patty the two hostess were in one car and another two groups in two other cars. Jackie lost control of her car and slide out of control and into a telephone pole, the line came down onto the car preventing anyone going into the car. Jackie was killed on impact but Patty lived for more than an hour while FIre Departments tried to get her out. it was during this time I saw her at McDonalds talking to me. As most kids back then wee lived at work even when we werent working. The following day I wernt to my friend to ask what I should do, she told me to tell her what happen to her and it was time for her to leave work and go home, the next night I went to work and saw her again, cleaning the tables as she normally did. I told her what happened and she said she woke up with a headache and could not get rid of it. I told her we all missed her and it was time to go home, it was the last time I saw her.
stardustkidd@hotmail.com, Ohio

Ghost of John Lennon
My husband and I had won a trip to New York City to see The Elton John 60th birthday Show.
We are so excited, during the greatest show, M. Elton John makes an special honor to his friend Mr. John Lennon. At this time above his head a beautiful white light like an angel appeared to listen that song. The energy was so kindness and so happy. I have goose flesh and tears appeared on my cheeks. It was so wonderful.
Thanks Mr John Lennon we will never forget you.

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Ghosts

I have little things that happend around me, no long stories either. When my grandmother passed away four years ago, I was at home. My grandmother had a heart attack and they had preformed a triple bypass. My sister and I had spend the whole morning and afternoon with her. When my dad and my brother showed up we decided to leave. My sister and I had just agreed that my gradmother was probably just waiting for a one on one with my brother before she left us. That is what she did. The hospital called my sister to tell her. Later on that night I was sitting on the couch with my feet propped up on the corner of the coffee table, when I felt the big toe on my right foot being tugged. When I looked up, there were these two child like black figures playing around tugging at my toe. It startled me some because I have never seen anything like this before. I actually told them to leave me alone, but they kept at it. Next thing you know I heard my grandmother tell them to leave me alone and at that point I felt the evil come from the two figures. They left right then and there and have never seen them or felt them again.

In that same house, we had a little boy who would run up and down the hallway. I believe the corner room, which was across from my room use to be his. He was friendly, would not do anything mischevious just run passed my bedroom door when I was in there and the door was open. When we had company small children, you would see the child or children sitting at one end of the hallway looking down. I would ask them who they were playing with (not what they were doing) and they would tell me, "the little boy".

Across the street from the house I lived in was the house we all grew up in. Whenever I was left alone, the ghosts in the house would go into the kitchen and taked out the pots and pans and start banging them together. They only did this when I was trying to watch tv and wanted some quiet time. It was funny. My sister and her family moved into this house years later when my parents sold it to them. When my niece and nephew were little they would always stare at a certain corner of the ceiling in the living room. That is where the ghost hung out when the kids were born.

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Ghost
Once I was in the girls' locker room getting dressed. We have these cutains things you change behind, no one can sse in, no one can see out. You know the sound that flip-flops make when there wet? Well, I heard squeeky flip-flop noises then the sound of a locker trying to be opened but doesn't, all the locker room lockers are never locked. It repeated about eight times then it just stopped. I could tell the footsteps went right by me. I pulled on my shirt quickly and went around the locker room, no wet footprints. I don't know what happened that day, but it was wierd. I asked other people and they said that they had also heard some strange things in the girls' locker room.
~Meg
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Hello,
My name is Elaina and I am 13 years old! I have three brothers and one step sister. I have a few stories to tell you. Here we go!
The first story amazes all of my friends. When I was about 8 I had a birthday party. I was running around the house playing tag with my friends when I saw this little girl that looked about 7, skipping through my bathroom. She had curly hair and a lacy dress on as if she came from a wedding. She was throwing flower pedals aroung the bathroom. Suddenly she vanished. My house was made in 1895, exactly 100 yeard before I was born. The weird thing is that she was in black and white with orbs floating around her.
The second story is about my brother. We were upstairs playing a game where we had to hide and pretend to fight people. Well my brother looked in the closet and saw a dress starting to grow arms and legs. He looked away and looked back again and said it dissapered. I told the spirit to go away and it did for about 10 minutes. This time when my brother saw it again he said it had a head that was very small and was smiling.
Here is another story about me and two of my best friends. Casey, Jessica and myself were fooling around with a Ouija Board that I made myself. We had been trying to make it work wwhen all of a sudden we asked if there were any spirts out there that wanted to talk to us with the Ouija Board. The cup we were using slided to yes. We were amazed. We said that we had to go and it slided to the letter 'o' and then 'k'. We talked about what happened when we told it that it could come with us to our school classes. When I got up to walk to our class I felt a sudden jolt of pain in my leg. It felt 50 pounds hevier now. After a while it got off my leg and went to Casey's leg. When she walked too fast it would kick her. It dissapered when I got off the bus to go to my house. When I got inside I called Casey to ask her if she wanted to come over. She said yes. When she got over here she showed me a bruise on her thigh. I looked at my thigh and saw that I had one exactly alike. It was very creepie. I only used the Ouija Board once after that.
If you have any info about this please e-mail me at erb2001@msn.com.
Thank-You! -Elaina