In The Spirit Of Halloween People Share The Spookiest Experience Of Their Lives
I was with my little brother home alone when we suddenly heard a creepy voice from the other room saying "Panda_Panda come here. I want to talk to you." We didn't know who or what it was and immediately ran upstairs. While we were running to our room, we heard someone nearby say "Do you boys think you can run from me? I see everything!" At this point we were terrified, locking the door to our room, grabbing our mini baseball bats and crying. We were certain we were going to be killed or eaten by some monster. Then, it happened, a loud bang came from the closet and the monster sprang out. We both screamed, my brother fell, and I threw the bat at... my dad wearing an IT clown mask and laughing hysterically. Turns out he was behind the whole thing. First, he had put all the cordless phones in the house on speaker and said he was leaving to run some errands. Then, he proceeded sneak back into the house, hide in our closet, and scare us.
Growing up, my bedroom was the only one that faced the front of the house/street. When I was about 8 or 9, I woke up to my dad calmly but firmly telling me to get up, go in the bathroom, and shut the door. I was annoyed because I was half asleep, but I listened. Apparently I was more tired than I realized, because I feel asleep on the bathroom floor. The next morning I asked my mom what happened. She seemed oblivious and confused. I looked at my dad like she was crazy, and I asked him why he had woken me up. He denied doing it. I was becoming frustrated to the point of tears, but I ultimately let it go.
Fast forward to college. I was home one break, and I decided to ask again. I had thought of that night off and on for years, and it still bothered me. This time, my dad goes, "Ha! I was wondering if you even remembered that." Turns out that a lot of houses on our block were being vandalized and robbed all those years ago. Someone had broken into the garage and was inside the house. My room was partially over the garage. My dad heard it happen and quietly got me to safety. Police were called, the guy ran. He was never caught, however, and my parents didn't want a terrified kid on their hands, so for years they pretended like nothing had ever happened. It wasn't supernatural, but it was unsettling for sure.
When I was a kid, I woke up in the middle of the night to my bed shaking. Normally that would scare the crap out of me, but instead I was just kind of annoyed. I rolled over and muttered, "Stop it."
The shaking stopped immediately. Then a male voice speaks right beside me, saying, "Sorry." That's when I freaked out. I'm pretty sure my childhood house was haunted.
When I was 16 in the mid 90s, aka the "I know everything, I'm invincible and you can't stop me" age, I got in a fight with an acquaintance while a whole bunch of us were hanging out at his house. Stupid fight, can't remember what about, but I decided fuck it, I was going home. I lived about 5 miles away, but I didn't have a car, and since it was 2am, there were no buses. I was going to walk home.
In the middle of the night, though a not-as-safe-as-it-seem neighborhood, as a tiny 16 year old girl.
So I did. I think, in hindsight, my friends either didn't believe I was going to do it, or were too startled by the sudden argument to realize what I was doing. I left the house and started hoofing it. About a mile out, the suburban housing neighborhood melted into a main street, with highway access. I started to notice a greyish minivan following me. It would follow me, pass me, turn a corner, and about 3 blocks later, it would do the same thing. I mean, really really obvious what it was doing. I crossed over to the other side of the street so I was walking the opposite of traffic flow, and thus no car could come up behind me. It kept doing it, on the other side of the street. About a mile later, there was a 24-hour Fred Meyer (west coast USA chain grocery/all-purpose store), lights bright, but parking lot emptyish. I immediately crossed the parking lot and went to head inside.
Just before I got to the doors, the minivan that had been following me, pulled up into one of the parking spots. A guy called out from the driver side and said:
"I don't want you to walk over here, just stay there and listen. I just wanted to let you know what I was doing. I saw you walking a while back, but I also saw a dark car that was following you. A couple of times you went to turn around, or stopped, so it started following you down a parallel side street. When I saw it, I started to follow you both, just to make sure you were safe. Go inside the store, and call someone to come pick you up, please. I haven't seen the car since you headed across the lot."
He waited until I was inside the store, and then pulled away. I didn't have anyone to call, so I just let the night cashier know what was going on, and hung out with her for about an hour and a half. Then I finished the walk home. I've never forgotten the incident, or that man, whoever he was. During the walk, I never saw the dark car he mentioned, but I've always been convinced he saved my life that night.
Not to me, but to my sister.
Her husband and her had just had their first child a few months prior. My brother in law was working the graveyard shift at his job as my sister stayed home taking care of my nephew. Around 2am, she heard loud knocking on her back door. She went to go check it out and saw a lady banging on the door asking for my sister to let her in. The lady told my sister that her husband had just beat her down the street and was looking for her. My sister was hesitant to let her in since she had a newborn in the house and didn't want to interfere. She told the lady that the best she could do was call the police for her. The lady told my sister to not call the police and to let her in. This is where my sister got suspicious. She went to get her phone and called 911. When she went back to the door, the lady was gone. The police arrived a few minutes later and they told my sister that the same situation happened a few streets down. Apparently the couple would do this act to get into peoples homes.
I'm sure this is very common but having it almost happen to my sister and my nephew just creeps me out. Some real Clockwork Orange shit.
I was home alone once when my parents were out of town. We had just moved into our house, so there was an empty lot next to our house, with a house half built. My parents were the types to leave the outdoor side garage door unlocked, dumbasses, I know. Well, while they were gone I was watching tv, and all of a sudden the door that leads into my garage from the inside starts to wiggle. I put my TV on mute and I listen again, I see it actually move that time.
I start freaking out and I'm kind of in shock looking for the phone, can't find the house phone, so I search for my cell. Remembered I left my charger in my parents car so I'm frantically looking for the house phone. Our house was so new, my mom hadn't even put blinds or drapes up in the kitchen or living room. Well, whoever was wiggling my garage door knob starts banging on the windows in my living room. Again no blinds or phone, and at that moment I realize this guy is seeing my every move, so I shoot upstairs. Again looking frantically for the phone and also trying to figure out how and where I'd jump out of my house to get away from the maniac that's outside my house if I needed to.
He then starts pounding on my front door. I can tell at that point, he's using something metal or plastic by the sound of the thumps. I really thought he was going to shoot my door open. I remember at that moment I was pissed at myself for being a dumbass teenager that frequently talked on the phone because I always just left it lying around, never putting it back on the base. I wanted so badly to push the the button the detects where my house phone is, but I thought if he heard where it was, he'd break the window nearest to it and take it.
I then remembered I left the phone in my moms room, and as I pass the hallway to her room I see two people pacing in front of my house. I'm freaking out trying to find my dads gun in my parents bedroom. I find the phone and call 911. As I'm on the phone, the window breaks. I'm upstairs and am scared to death. Suddenly everything goes silent. I'm waiting in my parents pitch black closet for what seems like an eternity, then I hear the sirens.
Cops show up but there is no one to be found. I figured that they hadn't gone too far since it had just occurred. Cops never found my tormenters. On the plus side, the company building the house next door, same company that built ours, hired over night security to stay on our street until the house was built which was definitely refreshing.
On a way to a camping trip, I passed by an old, painted up car with decorations of muppets and stuff on it. Obviously owned by a crazy person who couldn't drive over 50mph.
Without stopping, we passed the same car 40 minutes later.
One night, about ten months ago, there was a pretty heavy snow storm in my area. All of the roads were closed and a curfew was issued for everybody except emergency medical personnel.
I had been shoveling snow for most of the day and was dead tired come nightfall. Didn't have the energy to do much of anything besides eat dinner and lay down. I fire up some OG Star Trek and begin to doze off.
A couple of hours later, around 1AM, I hear the sound of a door rattling and a slight whisper saying my name, "vladimir_pwnin". I sit up a bit and realize it's coming from my parents' room, becoming fainter with the passing time. After 10 minutes or so, I gather up the courage to see what the hell is going on.
Shitty folding knife in hand, I peak out into the hallway and don't see anything. The noise is still coming from the room next door, the rattling becoming more rushed as I approach. Cautiously, I open the door and sneak inside. It's pitch black and I can't see anything.
My eyes are taking entirely too long to adjust to the darkness. I'm shuffling forward, and all of the sudden, something grabs and pulls on my leg. At this point I was so freaked out I jumped back. As the whispers continued, I recognized my dad's voice. He was asking me for help.
He had a stroke while walking to use the bathroom around 1AM that night. After he fell, he was able to use his left foot to rattle the door to his bathroom. My mom fell asleep on the couch in the living room and wasn't around to help or hear. I was able to grab the house phone and call 911, and despite the weather, the police and an ambulance arrived within 10 minutes.
That was the scariest night of my life. The doctors told us there wasn't much hope for my dad before going into surgery, since he had a hemorrhagic stroke and there was a massive amount of bleeding.
Fast forward 10 months and my old man is cognitively the same, just paralyzed on his right side. He had every infection under the sun while in the hospital, but he staved them off and is still with us today. He was my best friend before the incident, and my hero after.
Was sitting in my room at like 11:30 pm, heard lots of shit downstairs, assumed it was my mum. Heard her walk up the stairs to my room, stop, I called out to her, she didn't say anything and walked downstairs. I went down about a half hour later to find a piece of paper with the words "You're lucky I'm scared too" on it, and a whole bunch of shit was missing. Called mum, she still hadn't arrived home from a dinner she was at with her friends. I called the cops and locked myself in the bathroom, but I think they left when they realised I was still home, probably the most scared I've ever been when I was hiding in the bathroom.
I've had multiple times when i've woken up in the middle of the night and was sure I could see a figure in my room until I turned on my bedside light.
Usually this scares me a bit but my most memorable one was waking up thinking I saw some short figure at the end of my bloody bed and saying "fuck off I'm trying to sleep" then returning to burying my face into the comfort of my pillow.
Seems like it worked.
On my previous job when our building was still under construction, the only floors that were occupied were the 1st,2nd,5th,6th and 7th. One time I was alone inside the elevator going from 1st to the 6th floor when suddenly it stopped and opened on the 3rd floor. Normally I would just disregard it but rumors where all over that a ghost child was playing around on the vacant floors. So I pressed the closed button as I fast as I could. When it closed I heard noises like someone was tapping their fingers on the walls of elevator.
Walking towards a pack of howling wild dogs on the other side of a bushline (going to get rid of them to protect cattle)..... several hundred metres away they got our scent on the wind. Those howls turned to growls and snarls... 10 year old me booked it back home.
That moment you realise they know you and where you are was creepy.
Edit: Obligatory "this blew up" "posted when I went to bed" "highest rated comment". and minor text fixes
To clear something up for everyone asking, I was with my Dad and 17 Year old brother. They were both armed. When we got in growling range and heard them, I freaked, looked at dad and said "I'm going hoome " and legged it down hill toward my house. Dad said later he didn't even think my legs touched the ground I was going that fast. I remember coming to a barbed wire fence and not even slowing down, just dove into an army roll under it and kept going.
Dad and my brother continued on, when they go around the corner of the trees and in sight, 1 adult and 4 half grown pups charged them. Brother froze. Dad saw that the Alpha was still sitting and growling so he had a quick pot shot. Just missed but it was enough to scare them off.
When I was around 16 my rapidly growing family finally moved from the house I had spent my entire life in. As you would expect, we spent a lot of time fondly remembering things we used to do in the house as we were packing everything up. At some point I decided to go into the downstairs closet with a flashlight and read, something I used to do when I was younger to get some peace and quiet.
Now, this is one of those deep closets that goes under the stairs; it went back around 8 feet and then had a left turn into a very low maybe 3 foot high space. This space was largely occupied by a mountain of old blankets and stuffed animals. Of course, this is the most fluffy spot to sit and read.
About an hour in I shift a little to get comfortable and I hear a low, slow, warped, hoarse voice say "you always make me happy". I flipped my shit, hit my head on the low ceiling, and practically broke the door down getting out. After hyperventilating and explaining to my family why there was no color left on my face I went back to see what it was. It was my stuffed Little Bear from when I was 3 or 4 years old that I happened to lean on juuuuust right to press his belly. When I pressed his stomach again though, nothing. This poor bear I hadn't played with since I was a toddler used the last of it's power, used it's dying breath to tell me I made it happy.
You make me happy too little bear.
When you're not making me piss myself.
I used to work as a 911 operator in a relatively large metro area. One night at about 3 am or so I answered a call from an elderly lady who said she didn't feel good. I tried to get more info about what was wrong - chest pain, trouble breathing, headache, is she diabetic, etc. She gave me her address and phone number and said no one else was home but the front door was unlocked so they could come in. I toned the call out as "general illness" and kept trying to get more details. No matter what else I asked about what was wrong, all she would say is "I just don't feel good, can you send someone to help me?"
After a few min she said "I'm gonna put the phone down for a minute, I need to go to the bathroom." I tried to get her to stay on the line with me, told her she can do whatever she needs to get ready but I'd like to be able to stay in contact in case there's a problem. She said "I'm gonna put the phone down, I'll just be a minute." And that was it. I stayed on the line and asked for her every so often but got no reply.
A couple min passed, then the fire department called on scene so I just disconnected and didn't think much about it. Told them the caller advised front door is unlocked and she was in the bathroom. A couple more min and the one of the firefighters called over the air with a weird tone and said "Dispatch...uh how exactly was this called received?" I told them the call was first party from the patient's home phone approx 8 min ago. He didn't respond over the air, but called the desk from his cell phone (which usually only happens when something is going on that they don't want broadcasted since anyone can listen in on the radios).
On the phone he said "are you sure this wasn't a third party call from a family member or something?" I said "negative, caller advised 'I don't feel good' and said no one else was home, so to the best of my knowledge, the caller is the patient...have you made contact?" He said "yea, she was in the bathroom like you said, but she's probably been dead for about 12 hours. Cold to the touch, fully livid, full rigor, we're gonna need a deputy out here."
Afterwards we pulled the tapes of the radio and phone calls and checked the time stamps, address, phone number, and went over everything a few times to see if I missed something. I called them back in the morning after the shift to see if they had anymore info, but they were just as weirded out as we were. The phone was still in the living room and the patient was dead in the bathroom.
Back when my grandfather died, his children and some of the grandchildren took turns in staying over at grandma's house. We'd spend the night and help her out around the house, while also having some time alone in the house we all love and spending some final moments with grandpa, his (embalmed...?) body in the living room where his big old desk used to be.
The house was on a pretty big plot of land with a nice big barn, and while grandma loved her gardening, grandpa used to take care of the lawn. One day he had felt a bit weezy while mowing the lawn, so he went inside and eventually ended up calling the doctor and going to the hospital. He unceremoniously died three weeks later, unwilling to fight the cancer that had formed in his gut over the past few years.
As one of the older grandkids, I stayed over one night as well. Bluntly speaking, I was a bit on edge with just having a dead body in the house, but nothing really eventful happened that night. Said goodnight to my grandfather (ya, felt weird) and went upstairs to rest.
The next morning my grandmother was already preparing dinner for all the people that would be coming by to pay their respects. She, quite sternly, told me she wanted to do this particular thing alone, so I decided to start the day by mowing the stretch of lawn my grandfather never got to finish. I knew how big he and grandmother have always been on having the garden in top shape whenever there were people over and I didn't want to let him down. It wasn't a small patch of grass, but I figured the electric push-mower should be more than enough. I hooked it up using a long, orange extension cord and got to work.
Now, you have to know, my grandfather was a skilled, but supersafe, handyman. He was an electrical engineer by trade and always working on the house or tinkering in the barn, doing the bigger gardening projects my grandmother couldn't do, making us toys or fixing our bikes, etc. We always got to help him out, but he always kept an eye on us with whatever we were doing, making sure we were using the tools in the correct way, weren't running around with screwdrivers in our pockets, teaching us how to work with the electric mower and how to handle the long extension cord to not run over it with the mower.
When I was mowing the lawn, I was thinking about all of that instead of actually minding the extension cord. I fucked up. I ran over a coil of it, slightly damaging the cable down to the copper, but not cutting it in half completely.
The safest way to proceed would be to unplug the cord, roll it back up and get another, not-damaged one. What I did puzzles me to this day; I was nearing completion anyway and decided to continue a bit longer, (now...) carefully avoiding the cord. After finishing up, I went to roll up the cord around my arm, as I always did, as my grandfather taught me. I was thinking about him, how hard this was on grandma, and I stopped minding where I grabbed the cord. I grabbed straight into the exposed copper. I felt a short, sharp jolt in the palm of my hand and immediately realised what happened. I tried to let go but my hand and arm cramped up. At the time, naively, I thought I was gonna die, and I thought how stupid I had been, and how this would impact my already grieving family.
It must've only been a split second, but it felt like I had stood there for ten minutes. Suddenly the reflexes in my arm kicked in and I threw the cable to the floor. I took a moment to breathe and stood there, dazed out of my mind, listening to the wind in the trees and trying to figure out what had happened. I made my way into the barn to unplug the cord from the wall.
It wasn't plugged in.
I figured I must've yanked it out of the wall with my (not-so)Ninja reflexes, but quickly realised the angle for me to be able to do that were all wrong, and besides, there was a tonne of slack in the cable.
I checked in and around the barn, but there was noone on the property. I could see my grandmother through the kitchen window, still working on preparing meals for the tens of people that would come around later. The dog was still in his own enclosed section of the garden on the other side of the house, ears pointed, tail in the air, eyes fixated on me and the barn behind me, nervously whimpering and pacing back and forth.
I had never believed in something of a spirit world, an afterlife, souls or 'energy' staying behind in the physical world, any of that. But as silly as it sounds, on that day I did.
On that day, I was convinced my grandfather was watching my back to make sure I wasn't doing anything stupid.
Alright so it turned out to be quite long, and I'm sure this will be buried (as opposed to my grandfather; wrapped in cloth and cremated on nothing but woodboard, his choosing) but it felt good to write this out.
This is not paranormal, but was immensely creepy at the time:
I was visiting my hometown and decided to pick up my old high school friend from his house and take him to dinner and a drink to catch up. He is kinda stressed and tells me that his ex, with whom he had broken up with over 2 years prior, has been stalking him and harassing him.
I drive him home afterwards, and it starts to drizzle. As I drop him off at his house (the neighborhood was dark and quiet by now), we both notice a bag tied to my side view mirror...it was likely attached when we were at the restaurant. We open it to see a poorly taken photo of a tree taken at night with flash. There was a brief letter, obviously written from his ex, that said: "I buried our first love letter under this tree years ago. This tree is growing from our love." I made sure my friend got into his house all right and got the heck out of there.
We rented a house that never felt like home. You always felt creeped out walking in there like you were being watched. My bf and our roommate both worked nights so I would be there by myself a lot.
One night I was doing my usual stuff and watching some TV before bed. I had this overwhelming feeling all night that I should avoid the hallway and not look directly down it, it was creepy. The feeling of being watched and terrified lasted or about 2 hours before I decided to suck it up and make my way to my room. I left the hallway lights on and went to bed. Just as I turned of the side table light I heard a drawer being pulled out and hitting the stopper. I turned on the light and nothing was out of place. This went on about 6 times before I decided I was sleeping with the light on. I curled up under the covers and waited for the bf to get home.
He comes rolling in about 3am. He's laughing at me for being such a pussy gets into bed and turned the light off and that's when all hell broke loose. All the doors down the hallway slammed shut 1 by 1 then our closet doors started rattling. The sound coming from inside could only be described at total destruction, it sounded like the shelves the pole and everything in there was being tossed around. The bf joined me under the covers and we were both terrified. After it stopped it took 5-10 min to convince him to go check around the house. Nothing was out of place and our roommate had drove 3 hours back home that night to be with his family so we knew it wasn't him. We slept with the light on the rest of the night and moved out soon after. I still can't drive by that house without being creeped out.
Although nobody believes me, I know what I saw. And it wasn't a stealth bomber.
I was about 14, and at about 10:30 I was in bed trying to fall asleep on a school night. I started to hear a hum that quickly began growing in intensity, as whatever was making it got closer. So I bent the blinds on the window behind me and peered out. Something bright was steadily approaching, and it was flying very low.
As it got closer, I began to see more detail. In the middle was a bright white sphere. It had long shafts coming out radially from this central sphere. At the end of each of these shafts (maybe 10-15 in total) was a smaller sphere, each illuminated with a different color (noticeably dimmer than the central sphere). It zoomed right overhead - couldn't have been more than 20 feet over my house.
I ran downstairs and told my parents. They told me to go back to bed. Next day I told my friends and teachers. They laughed at me. They suggested it was probably a stealth bomber because there's an AFB nearby and stealth bomber sightings aren't rare. This thing was the opposite of stealthy.
So I have no idea what it was, but I'll never forget the night I saw the psychedelic sombrero.
My family told me this.
I had fever very often when I was young. The medicines didn't help. One day, a stranger on the street asked my mom if I was always sick and who was the elderly following me. My mom was confused as there was no elderly nearby. The stranger pointed into the air and described my dead paternal grandmother's look, the hair style and clothes she wore to her grave. My dad was from a different town and my mom would have known it if the stranger was a mutual friend. The stranger instructed my dad to call my grandmother to go back. My mysterious fevers stopped.
My parents hiring muscle to hurt me and my wife, slashing the tires on my car, sending me texts with photos of me taken from hiding, I had to go underground, leave my job, move to somewhere they don't know, they're still looking, the police doesn't believe they would hurt their son, I don't even order food using my real name, I don't know when or how they're going to find me, but I'm trying to leave the whole country, how's that for a real life scare? I had a phone interview last week and I'm still terrified it could be a private detective out hunting me, three of my relatives died and I found out by chance, including my grandfather who died thinking I was dead, they even had a funeral for me.
This is the story of how a creepy encounter with a scary man at a harbour caf saved me from something even more terrifying. It was in the autumn of 1994 and I was 19 years old. At the time my dad had been working for almost six months abroad, and I was planning a surprise visit. My dad and I have always been close, I am an only child and my mother died of cancer when I was still a baby. So it was just my dad and I really, a tiny little family but he made up for it by being the most awesome parent ever. Now that I wasnt a little kid anymore, I appreciated that more and more. I had had booked the ticket and was ready to go, it was gonna be great fun to surprise him with a visit. I had to take the ferry though, and I had just gotten my driving license and felt really unhappy about having to drive my little car onboard the ferry, and decided to not bring a car at all, and just rent one once I got there. Having time to spend I decided to have coffee at a near by caf since I was early and they hadnt started letting people onto the ferry just yet. At the caf there were lots of truck drivers and I soon realized I was the only woman there.
One man, a 40-ish bloke with ice blue eyes and tattoos all over was eyeing me from across the room. Something about him made my skin crawl.
I got up to leave, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable, and to my utter horror he followed. What do I do now? I asked myself. This was before everyone owned a cell phone, I might add. I decided to try and look busy and maybe he would leave me alone. So I pulled out my ticket and tried to look like I was reading it carefully, when he suddenly snatched it from my hand and said: Im on the same boat. Ill have hours of your company then, how lovely in a voice that was an absurd combination of jovial flattery and hidden hostility.
I felt it very strongly that if I got on that boat, with this man who now knew my booking details, Id be in grave danger. I cant explain why the feeling was so overwhelming, but it was, and I decided there and then to not get on the boat. The ticket had been cheap anyway, I could get on the next one instead. I hid in the ladies room until I knew the ferry had left and then I went to rebook my ticket. The story could have ended here, a creepy encounter with a stalkerish man, but it doesnt. I was right in the assumption that getting on that ferry would have been unbelievably dangerous. Have you figured it out yet? The date was September 28, 1994, the name of the ship was M/S Estonia, and that cold night she sank in the Baltic sea, taking 852 people with her, resulting in the worst ferry catastrophe to strike Sweden to this day.
I still recall that day with horror, and wonder what would have happened if this creepy man had not taken an interest in me? If I had not listened to my instinct and gotten on board instead of waiting for the next boat... Would I have been among the survivors? Or would my dad have seen my name on the list of lives lost in the Baltic sea?
Back when I worked Night shift as a Security guard, I would experience mild hallucinations due to my poor sleep schedule. I was doing my patrol and I was feeling particularly out of it, so I kept getting those flashes of movement in the corner of my eye, but I was convinced it was just my brain fucking up. At the site I was working, there is a large warehouse filled with chemical waste that has only one light on in it. As I'm going along, I see a pale shape on the ground and quickly recognize it as a body. My adrenaline spikes and I nearly pass out.
Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a CPR dummy the workers left out for training.
Edit: Since it seems to be a point of interest, I figure I'll clarify. "Pass out" is probably not the best description of my reaction. It was more like my mind blanked and it took a second for me to regain my senses. I was truly scared that I just found a dead body, as I am not an armed guard and was over a mile away from any assistance. Definitely, it was more my imagination overworking what was actually a simple situation.
I was sitting in our office room home alone when I was 19. I was typing a paper for one of my college classes. The office room used to be my sisters room before she moved out, so a lot of her decorations are still there.
She had a photo of a mountain range, an oval shaped mirror, and three different hangings that read "faith", "hope", and "love". This makes 5 total things hanging on the wall in the room.
Suddenly, I got random chills. Which happens all the time it was pretty cold. But this time, as soon as I got the chills, everything in the room hanging on the walls fell off simultaneously. This really freaked me out, but it got a tiny bit worse. I got up and walked out of the room only to notice EVERYTHING hanging on a wall in my house had fell (besides the television in my room). All the pictures in the living room and other rooms, all the trophies in my room from little league sports, and even a stand that held candles.
I wasn't sure what to do. I picked up all the stuff and hung it back up, which actually took me around 15-20 minutes. Then I drove to campus to finish my paper. Never told my parents.
It's also worth mentioning this happened around noon on a sunny day three winters ago.
15 years old. I had just got home from work, so I went to my bedroom to change out of my work clothes and get ready for bed. I'm in the middle of undressing when I look to my bedroom window to catch my reflection... and I see a man's face. I dropped to the floor and turned off the lights, scrambling to get dressed, still watching the window. The face is gone, but I'm still watching, then... a fucking camera. No face, just a camera pointed at me sitting on the floor. I bolt from my room and tell my mom and brother. My brother went outside, and our ladder from the backyard was lying there. But nobody around. Couldn't sleep for a year after that, just stared at that window. Haven't thought about that in years.
Cop here. I've posted this story before so it may sound familiar. I was dispatched to a house at about 1 am for a prowler. We get there and talk to the residents. Long story short they saw 2 people wearing masks (one Jason style hockey mask, don't remember the other) in the yard across the street. It was like 2 weeks past Halloween so it seemed believable. We check the area and don't see anything. 10-8. It's worth noting the residents didn't seem drunk/high/crazy at all. A few times you'll get a similar call and get there to find the resident is strung out on meth and seeing things. However, back to the story. An hour later we get called back. This time we have our dispatcher on the phone with them while we are surrounding the area. We (about 5 of us) are in a perfect position, dispatch tells us they can still see the prowlers in the next yard. We start to move in. Dispatch says the residents saw the two prowlers wave and move into the shed. Guess where I am? That's right, next to the shed. I give verbal comands, bang on the door, and nothing. Fuck it, fine. I'll come in after you. Doors open and......empty. I even think to check for a trap door. Nothing. It is raised about 4 inches so there isn't even a possibility of a door leading out. Again check the area and find nothing. I talk to the residents. They said as I was moving in on the shed the two put their finger to their lips (giving the shhhh sign) and then they both waved. They moved into the shed as I was next to it. We went over every possibility trying to come up with an explanation. If the caller was just fucking with us they had no prior history of it (as in repeated calls for service at the address). I'm not much of a believer in paranormal stuff but I can still appreciate a situation where I can not logically explain what just happened.
Doo dee doo dee dee doo.......
A few years ago my family moved to new Hampshire. First off, let me explain that the basement had a door that you could open in the backyard and that the door was made out of plywood -if someone wanted to break in, they could have. Well, myself, my three sisters, and my brother were in the living room one night (basement door in the living room). My brother is trying to scare everyone and starts saying he can hear things coming from the basement. Finally he gets up and opens the door to the basement. We see someone's shadow and hear someone running at full speed down the basement stairs. We scream bloody murder, step dad comes down with butcher knives ready to kill, he's in the basement and no one is there. The door is still intact outside and ever since then the dog wouldn't go into the living room (never would go into the basement either). I was 16, so a few weeks after that I left to live with other family members. Nope.
Racism is an insidious, and unfortunately prevalent, force in all of our daily lives. Maybe we're on the receiving end of it, being treated differently and losing opportunities because of others' preconceived notions.
Or maybe we're on the other side of things. Even those who aren't actively racist or discriminatory still have to process the world through the filters of the things they've been told about people who are different.