I have many paranormal experiences to share, so I decided I would do so in chronological order starting with my first ever notable experience. My Biological mother, who I no longer speak to on a regular or even yearly basis, was a self proclaimed 'Ghost Hunter.' While she was off across Ontario hunting the paranormal I was at home being raised by my dad (my parents were no longer a couple at this time) and his parents alongside my older brother. The few times I did see my mom was Summer Vacation and the odd Holiday as we didn't live any more than five hours from her house. My Summer's were filled with Ouija boards, ghost stories and visits to haunted areas when she couldn't get anyone to babysit us (my brother and I.)
This isn't everyone's childhood, and it really got to me - I developed an anxiety disorder, severe night terrors almost every night and despite being diagnosed with it when I was really young I was put on medication for insomnia and I do blame the developed night terrors for that.
Despite all this I never wanted to stop seeing my mother, she was my mom after all, so I never told my dad what was really happening when we went to visit her. I just assumed my brother felt the same way as my dad to this day still doesn't know.
I saw things very early in life, flickering lights, faces and figures in the dark, whispered nothings while I tried to sleep - only when I was twelve and getting sick of my mom's antics did I really encounter my first real and terrifying paranormal experience.
It was Christmas evening in Prescott Ontario, a small town situated against the St. Lawrence River, and old battlegrounds during the war of 1812. The fort there homed many soldiers, and the Methodist Church on the outskirts was used for services. As a kid I called it the Blue Church, this tiny little bright blue chapel with no more than twelve pews and hand crafted stain glass windows. It was built in the early 1800's by the Heck family as they introduced Methodism to Canada, and fell out of use in the late 1800's after the owner, Barbara Heck was brutally murdered and the church was partially burnt down. It was re-established as a sort of monument and still (at times) hosts services, but very rarely. Outside is an old and decrepit graveyard, headstones broken and toppling over with very little visibility to the names and dates of the deceased; the newest grave I ever found dates back to 1888.
My mother, bored out of her mind after a great Christmas day suggests we go to the Church for some pictures and EVP's. I knew I had no say in the matter, so in moments we were bundled in warm coats and scarves (It was nearing negative 25 Celsius that night) with flashlights in hand, we drove down to the Blue Church. The creepiest part of the church is it was not modernized like most things after being rebuilt, it was still lit with old candles, the alter and pews were all original, same with the stain glass windows. The alter was marble, and there was a leather bound book in the corner on a pedestal, signed with signatures from people all over the world, visiting and relishing in a little piece of History I'd rather forget all together. I could see the light flicker of a candle through one of the windows as we pushed our way through the mounds of snow, thanks to the useless groundskeeper.
Inside it smelt like mildew and old wood, chilly as it had no internal heating system. I heard the large double doors close behind me, and huddled up close to my brother's side as my mom began taking EVP's, talking to the spirits the only way she knows how - by aggravating them. The Church, as I'd visited it a handful of times, always felt ominous to me. Other's loved it, it's quaint location and beautiful crafting. Weddings were held there, services for funerals (despite the decree made that no one else is allowed to be buried in it's graveyard) people adored it. I hated it, I hated its past, knowing that the owner and founder of the church was decapitated on it's steps and her body thrown in the ditch by the side of the road, knowing how many soldiers had services there and then died the next day. I did not, and still do not like the Blue Church.
My mom called my name at one point, and asked me to try and speak out. Mind you I was twelve years old at this time, scared out of my wits, no kid should ever have to endure this but alas here I was. So I did, I called out. I was kind, unlike my mother who liked to agitate. I asked simple questions, and after a while grew wearily comfortable until I heard the smallest breath of air by my ear, as though someone were right beside me, my mother and brother standing at the alter far ahead of me. I called out to my mom and told her we needed to go, immediately, and after about five minutes of my brother coaxing her out we were back on our way home. That night I slept in the living room with my brother, light on and TV on. I barely slept.
The next morning my mother came tearing into the living room, waking my brother up (I was already up) with her laptop in her hand. She'd been scrolling through EVP's all night, playing with them and so on. Apparently some were good, but there was only one that was absolutely amazing (or so she said) so I popped in the earbuds and listened. I could hear my brother and my mom talking in the background, this was a recording off the phone I had in my hand cause I could hear myself talking louder, more clearly, then after a minute or so you can hear a voice whisper my name, clear as day, as though whoever it was was right beside me. About two seconds later you hear the words "Don't Go" and "Come back."
I had those EVP's on my phone for years, even after my mother and I stopped talking and I stopped going to see her. Only when I forgot about them, trashed that phone and bought a new one did I realize I'd totally gotten rid of the only piece of evidence, legitimate evidence of the paranormal, that I had. Now all I have is the memory of the breathing, and later the voice that had stood beside me that night, asking me to stay with it, saying my NAME. I've never gone back to the Blue Church, I don't ever plan to - but ever since that night, as time goes on I still experience oddities, all the time, seemingly constantly and I can't wait to share the rest of them with this community. This story is definitely the more tame of the others I have.
I have to say that your mother was very good at aggravating spirits. She aggravated my spirit. I couldn't imagine bringing children to such a location, after filling their heads with frightening rumors, just because I was bored.
Regardless, I hope in the time since you posted this story, you have been able to reconnect with your mother. ❤
I don't know if this is good advice or not, but maybe you might return to the church one day. Leave some flowers somewhere. The way you have described the voice on the EVP makes me feel sad.
Best Wishes, Maria ❤