I've heard children complain about things in their closet; my story actually happens to be real. During the early years of my life, my grandparents were a major part of my life, for they lived very close. It has been 4 years since they're passing (they both passed in the same year) and my memories are somewhat scattered of them, but I still remember a few instances of memory.
I remember going to clean up my room at the age of somewhere around 5, and my grandmother was at my house that day. I was told to hurry up cleaning, and since my creativity was in serious lacking in my early age, I put them in (where else) my closet. My grandmother walked into my room and couldn't believe I cleaned my room in such a short time (I thought it was so cunning as I twirled my imaginary handlebar mustache, lol). My 'cunning-edge' plan had died literally after my grandmother opened my closet door to reveal a mass of toys. I helped her clean up the mess (of course) and never did it again, but that was only one instance with a closet and my grandparents I had trouble with.
I can still remember even 4 and a half years from the last time stepping into that house with both of them there, they had a small house on the outskirts of BWI airport. When you walked in, you were never turned away or unwelcome, always greeted with a 'Hey there, bud!' by my grandfather and a 'Hey there, hon! We're in the kitchen, come on in.' by my grandmother (they were a very nice little down to earth kind of people who loved others very much).
They had a split foyer house (I never went in the basement), at the top of the steps you had an intersection. To the left was the family room where we'd set up the Christmas tree and search for our Easter eggs; it was the special occasions room, really. It wasn't that formal, either. Straight forward (at that intersection), you'd walk onto the laminated wood floor into the small kitchen, and on the right it was lined with dark wood furnishings, a small sink, and an oven at the end. On the left side, you had a small table with a wood bench and on top of the table was a microwave, and a bunch of napkins to the left of that. Now, on your exact left you had an 80's cream refrigerator, and next to it was a doorway into the living room. On that doorway though, we'd always mark our height with a pencil of how tall we were (around every month or so). The living room had real wood floors (covered by a pretty cheap oval rug), was green, and had more pictures of people in our family than ancestry.com. When you walked in, to your left was a tv that all of us used to crowd around. Straight ahead, you'd have a three-seat couch, to your right would be a rocking chair with a small footstool, and behind that chair was a large opening to the dining room. There was a big table always lined with a different plastic table cover every time, and at the end of that table was my grandfather, smoking Kools while either playing with a calculator, looking through the yellow pages, or looking at the maps.
Anyways, at the right of that intersection back at the stairs (remember?) was a pretty long hallway, and at the end of that hallway you could either go left of right. To the right was my grandmother's room, and to the right was the spare room. Now instead of a closet, that spare room had a spare room (Insert a Yo, Dawg! Meme here). Now in the spare room's spare room, there was a closet (we'll just call this spare spare room the storage room, shall we?). Now, it was dark as hell in there, and to be honest, whoever's currently reading this, you probably didn't mind the dark when you were a kid. But me man, you could not pay me enough to go into that room, and I always tried to avoid it, because there was always some eerie kind of vibe in that room, especially in that closet.
Like I said, I used to sleep with the lights on (Even today I still sleep with a light or two on, mainly my closet light as a matter of fact. That's only out of pure habit, as to be expected.) You see, around two years ago, after my grandparents passed, and I had 'moved on', I still slept with those closet lights on, man. Only this time, for at least 7 months, my closet lights had been burnt out; dead, no mas. Then one day, for some odd reason, out of nowhere, my closet lights worked. I ran down the stairs and asked my parents, asking them 'Hey, did one of you change my light bulbs?'. Neither one responded with that yes I was expecting. This made me somewhat chilled over, especially since my mother was still coping with their passing around this time.
One characteristic that I do remember about my grandfather is that he always loved getting a good laugh for himself for the price of someone else's dignity. In fact, I remember when we were really little, he used to hide in the bathroom (in that long hallway) and scare the hell out of us when walking by, so I thought 'Well damn, he must be trying to contact me somehow.'
Ever since that time, we have had multiple contacts to them, whether it be pure fate or by actual higher powers. In fact, the most recent of the contacts was when my sister got a random number drawn up for running a race, and that number matched the address of my grandparent's house. Today I experience the phenomenon of what you ghost professionals call "Shadow people", otherwise small movements in and out of the corner of your eye. In fact even now, as I write these words to you, I see these shadows dancing. I'm sitting right next to my closet with the doors off (I didn't like them).
I personally like to believe it is my grandparents watching after me today, but I have no idea what it is. If you could, since I am not much of a ghost hunter, give me your personal analysis of this phenomenon. Also, if you could, tell me if you have had any experiences like this. Thank you for taking the time to listen to me, everybody, and I hope to see you in my comments!
Loading comments....
