My name is Meghan and I am from a small town in Southern, California known as Moorpark. Now, I have had a few encounters with I guess would be considered the paranormal. Two of which will stay with me forever.
The first one occured in my childhood home. I was sleeping on the couch with my brother because it was the holiday season and we had family sleeping in our rooms. We had just gotten done with watching some TV before going to bed. The couch rests in front of a very large window with the tv across. I had just began falling asleep when my brother said "Meghan stop making noises". I wasn't making any and just ignored him. He then kicked me and said "This isn't funny, stop making those noises". I got annoyed and jumped up and said "what are you talking about"? That's when I heard it. The sound of finger nails, tapping on the window. "That's not me", I told him. I moved the curtains and we both saw it. A black figure standing at the window, staring. We both screamed and my dad came running down with a golf club. He went outside and there was nothing there, just the back gate swinging open. Never will sleep down there again.
The second one wasn't as scary and I did not sense any evil. It was around 10 pm and I was driving home on Fallbrook Ave in the San Fernando Valley. It's the Valley, the streets are usually lit up with billboards and street lights. I made this drive almost everyday because my boyfriend at the time lived over there. Something was off that night, no joke. It was quiet, no cars on the street. I was going a little faster than I probably should which caused me to slam on my breaks when I saw this old man in a suit with a top hat and gray flushed skin walking in front of my car. Basically he was black and white, straight out of the early 1900's. I was going to hit him. I couldn't stop in time. I shut my eyes and came to a stop. Expecting me to hit something, I was shocked when I didn't. That second, a semi truck ran a red light going very fast. It would have hit me if I didn't stop. I looked over at this black and white man, he looked back, tipped his hat with a little smirk and went on his way. I blinked and he was gone. No joke. Still today I get the chills thinking of it. I told my parents when I got home, they didn't believe me. Only a year ago, I was visiting my grandparents and stumbled upon a family portrait of my great, great, grandpa in the same attire and same face. My great, great grandpa came to save me that day.
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Your second story was more heartwarming than scary. I love stories of deceased family members watching out for their loved ones. Like Tweed, I have always thought the concept of seeing a ghost in black and white was interesting. Thanks for this post!