There were three hauntings I have had in my life that stand out and to me are worth telling.
The first was when I was child living in Van Nuys, California on Sherman Way. The house we lived in was an old house that was on 3.5 acres right in the middle of Van Nuys, with an apartment building on one side and a welding shop on the other. But it was still like living in the country for us.
There was an small orchard, grapevines, trees all over and out buildings leftover from when it was, I guess, a farm. We had chickens, dogs, cats, horses, and a few goats. My parents were into show-type business and my father had built a small western town out back. They and other like-minded family and friends put on benefits for people to come watch. They put on shows for handicapped kids and people.
The house was very dark and spooky and no matter the time of day or night, I always felt like someone was watching me. Every night I could hear someone walk, like they were walking from the back of the house to the front, wearing heavy boots. They would walk from the back through the dining room and kitchen and into the parlor or second living room (the house had hardwood floors), across the living room towards the small hall where the two bedrooms and bathroom were.
It would walk down the hall to my parents' room, turn, and then walk to my and my sister's room and then I felt like it was standing there looking in. I could hear like heavy breathing, though I never saw anything because I kept my head covered or laid really still with my eyes closed. Then I could hear it turn and walk away and the footsteps fade off. Almost every time after they faded there was the sound of like someone breaking a plate glass window.
For the longest time we would all jump up and go see what was broken but after time and time and time again of it happening, we just stopped getting up. This happened until my mom divorced my father and moved my sister and me to Louisiana.
About a year before we moved, there was a really old lady that lived close by and my mother mentioned this to her. She said that a long time ago a worker was killed on the property so we figured it was him checking up on us.
Several times, while playing in the sheds or the orchard, I felt like I was being watched. A friend of the family stayed the night because he and his wife had an argument. He was sleeping on the couch and we heard him say, "Hey, get off my feet... I said get off my feet!" We all went in to see what he was hollering about. When my dad hit the light switch, the family friend jumped up and said, "I...I thought the kids were messing with me and sitting on my feet, but I don't think it was them." He got dressed and left in the middle of the night and never stayed the night again.
A couple times I would hear someone call my name, like they were far away, and I would think it was my mother and I would run to where she was at and ask what she wanted, I heard her call me, and she would say she didn't call me, but yeah she needed me because we were going somewhere or she would say she was fixing to call for me. But I swear it sounded just like her voice calling me even if I was way in the back of the property and she was in the house.
The second haunting was when my husband, who was in the Navy, was stationed in Groton, Connecticut. We lived off base in a small house next to a big Victorian house (our land lady lived in it).
There were places very close by where there had been Civil War battles. One they had made into Griswold Park and another had the trenches still there and along the wall, off and up the embankment from the river, were the places they had set up cannons. They had a memorial marker in the middle of the field by a little spot with an iron fence surrounding it that talked about the General that had died on that spot.
Anyway, one night we were walking back from a friend's house that lived on the other side of that battlefield. We had crossed through it to take a shortcut home.
That night we were in bed, my husband asleep and our little dog on the floor by the bed. I had just started to drift off and I startled myself awake because I was crying and didn't even know it until the tears rolled down my face.
All of a sudden there was this loud bang like a gun went off and a flash of light right in the room. The dog jumped in the bed and we both jumped out of bed and I ran to the window to see if maybe it was a car backfiring driving by, but there were no cars and no headlights or taillights going either way down the street. It kind of shook us up a bit but we went back to bed. The dog would not get out of our bed so we had to let him sleep with us.
After a couple days, strange things started happening to just me. I would get up early and get my hubby off to the Base and then go back in and lay down to catch a few more zzzzs and every time I did, I would be half asleep and then try to get up but couldn't. I would fight and fight to get up but I couldn't even open my eyes. I wanted so bad to just relax and go to sleep but in the back of my mind I knew if I did, I would never wake up. This would happen every morning but never when my husband was there.
The last time it happened before we moved. I had packed some boxes and my husband was at the Base getting his transfer orders, etc. I had picked up a book I had been reading and just felt so tired, so I set it on top of the little fridge, right in the middle, and went into the bedroom.
I laid back on the bed and just barely closed my eyes when I was going through the same thing but I could sort of open my eyes and on the wall across from my bed I saw a swirling circle. I felt like I was being pulled towards it and I knew if I did, I was a goner but I couldn't move, not even my head. I tried and tried but still couldn't, and all of a sudden I heard a slam come from the kitchen that was right off our bedroom. It slammed hard enough it jolted me out of whatever was happening.
I jumped up and ran in there, and on the other side of the kitchen was that book I had sat on top of the fridge. It was laying like it had been thrown against the wall. I always felt like someone saved me that day.
My husband came home and I told him what happened. We finished packing and left right away, even though we had planned on staying that night and leaving in the morning.
Third one was when my husband and I split up for a while. I moved into a small 2 bedroom apartment. Not long after I moved in, I would be sitting in the second bedroom where I kept my computer. After I got off work, I would chat with friends or write emails, etc every night.
One night the lights started flashing in there and the door started closing on its own. At first I thought it just needed new light bulbs and it must be the a/c kicking on and making a draft. It happened several more times and I changed out the light bulbs and thought okay we're good now but it kept happening.
Only the lights in there would flash, never lights in any other room and the door would start to slowly close. I had my landlord check out the lights. It was a ceiling fan type with the lights under it. He checked it all out and put new bulbs in it, although I already had.
Once again I thought okay good but the next night, same thing. So the next night I made sure the a/c was off and I checked the bulbs, made sure they were screwed in tight... Same thing. Lights flickered and the door started closing. I got up and said, "Okay, if there's someone here, stop it." Oh, I forgot to mention I lived across the street from a cemetery, so I thought... Could be a visitor.
This continued every night for a year... Every night. In my head I always pictured a man in a black suit for some reason. Anyway, one night my grandson, who was almost two at the time, was with me and we were in there and I was writing an email to my sister and it happened. My grandson, who was sitting beside me playing on the floor with some toys, looked out the door when I got up to block it open and got scared and kept pointing and saying something I couldn't understand, but you could tell he was scared to death.
I looked out to where he was pointing but didn't see anything, so I asked him if he wanted a cookie. I picked him up and started out the door and he went nuts and tried to crawl over my shoulder to get away from whatever he was seeing. I finally got out part of what he was saying was man. I don't know why but it ticked me off and I hollered, "Look! I don't know who you are but you are scaring my grandson and I WILL NOT put up with it so go the hell away."
My grandson stopped squeezing my neck, looked back towards the living room and said man gone. We went in and I got him a cookie and he was okay the rest of the night.
He would spend almost every weekend with me but he had never said anything or acted scared, even when the lights flickered and door slowly start closing. It never closed all the way just halfway. But that night he saw something I couldn't.
The next night my grandson was at his home and I was in the room chatting when the lights flickered and the door started closing. I jumped up, walked into the living room and said, "Now listen hear. I don't know who you are or what you want, but do not EVER scare my grandkid again. If you need some help crossing over, need to say something to me, then let's have it. If not, go away and do not come back." I don't know why, but I wasn't scared at all. It never happened again the last two months I lived there. My husband and I worked things out and have been together ever since.
I haven't had any more experiences since except where I work at an early childhood program. We took our class on a field trip to see the police dept in the town I live in. We were standing looking at the two cells they used to hold prisoners until the bigger town could come pick them up and I started getting light headed and felt like I couldn't breath. You could just feel the heaviness of past people that were scared or upset, knowing they were in trouble. I got so nauseous and shaky. I told the other teacher I needed to get out of there. She looked at me and said, "Oh my! You're pale as a sheet."
The police officer was leading us out and said, "Oh, yeah. The reason we only use the cells as storage is because a few years ago someone hung themselves in one of them. I said, "That one" and pointed to the one on the right and he said yeah, then asked me if I was okay cause I was fixing to hurl.
We got outside and I finally felt like I could take a deep breath and the nausea left.
Well those are my stories. All true.
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