My name is Maria. You may know my husband as he has posted on here Small Town Hospital, Big Hauntings, and I figured I would share a few of my experiences. My husband and I work at the same hospital in a small town, the name cannot be disclosed for privacy purposes, but be assured this hospital is a cauldron of good, bad and benign entities.
My first experience I would have to say was when I started working there in 2010. I am a psychic, healer, and clairsentient, so naturally I am extremely sensitive. It was a warm August morning and I was taken down to an, unbeknownst to me at the time, very haunted room. The first thing I noticed about this room was, despite it being bright and sunny, there was a very dense suffocating haze in the room. My instructor brought me just inside the room to learn the computer and how to enter patient information and despite being by the doorway as my instructor taught me, I felt suffocated and it became extremely hard to breath and very uncomfortable as if there was a hand covering my mouth and a deep depression in the room. As I was typing on the computer I found myself getting short of breath very quickly, but pushed on despite my discomfort, when finally she said the words I was waiting for, "let's go learn how to do patient rounds." And as soon as I stepped from the room it was like everything lifted off me and I could breath again, but I felt the eyes stare me down the hall.
On the same wing as the room I just described there is another room down at the end of the hallway that I would always see a dark entity in the corner of the room, even if the hall light was shining in the room. This was when I started my official shift on overnights. It never made an attempt to reach out to me, but always watched everyone's every move. I could talk on about the Hospital at which I work, but I have a few other good tales before all is said and done.
I will now proceed to my grandmother's house where I was raised, where her house held a dark secret. I didn't always know I was a psychic as it goes most of the time and it was always taboo in my grandmother's house so I always kept my mouth shut, but I believe my brother also felt the entity that resided there in the basement.
My grandmother's house is very very old, she lives in the Adirondacks and the area was well known for Native American activity, and the townspeople always were respectful of its rich heritage and early days. My grandmother's house, I was to learn, had found itself to be on top of a Native American Indian's grave, in which I think it was respectfully removed and laid to rest elsewhere. But as we all know a grave should not be disturbed, my grandmother not being any part of this process as the house is older than she.
In my grandmother's basement there resided in the back an old potato crib which she and my grandfather would store potatoes, obviously, but always made my brother or I go down to get some and no matter night or day there was a very powerful uncomfortable energy in the back that drove us out as quickly as we went down. As I got older this entity always seemed to prey on me the most. It loved to shift around the house just for me to where it would be a race to get the light on in the kitchen so I was comfortable and when I would get up for school I felt it lurking in the hallway, the only safe place being my bedroom.
More recently my husband and myself were at my grandmother's house and we were in the living room standing facing each other (take in mind I was much more psychically powerful as I learned my purpose and proceeded to let it grow, so the entity gave me my space), when all of a sudden I felt the entity surge through the floor right up to touching my feet, but it did not threaten me. And to this day we have more of a respect for each other because I learned this entity actually protects the house and its inhabitants. It just liked to mess with me.
Another experience at my grandmother's house was after my grandfather passed and someone came to live with us who brought along a guitar. I was a teenager still and the guest would sleep in the living room and stay up late playing. While it was pleasant to hear the tunes the guest would play on the guitar, one night they played well into 1:00 in the morning, or so I thought.
I was trying to sleep and I am a terrible insomniac, everything wakes me up and when I'm up, I'm up. So as I get out of bed, quite perturbed, and proceed to the stairway I notice the dining room light is on but the living room light was off. Something was not right. So as I walk down the stairs, the playing doesn't stop until I reach the last step and as I round the corner into the dining room where the guitar sat usually on its stand. My heart went into my throat as I realized the guest was sound asleep and nothing was touching the strings, so I raced upstairs never to speak of this again except to my husband later in life.
My last story also takes place at my grandmother's house involving our beloved deceased tan tiger cat Boots who lived to be the ripe old age of 19 years old. I wasn't always friends with this cat, not until I was older because I annoyed him as most small children do. But when we became friends he was attached at my hip and would always wait for me to return home from school and wait for me at the top of the stairs. Well, you can imagine that after he was put down we were all devastated and I no longer had my friend who waited for me.
It was a grey afternoon and I was home alone and I was coming up on the staircase with a bowl of soup getting ready to relax and watch TV when something caught my eyes and as I looked up at the top, I saw my friend's silhouette, filling me with a little fear but mostly joy. And as I passed I smiled up and said "hello." This occasion happened a couple times and to this day when I visit my grandmother I like to sit at the top of the stairs with my cat Reno.
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