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I Hear Ya Knockin'...
Submitted by "Joey."
Hailing
from: Not Specified
Where it happened: Not Specified
Posted on: 8/9/03
This
is a story that is not mine. It actually happened to my boyfriend, Nic
many years ago.
The only reason that I truly believe that this happened to him, is that as he told me the story, he had this look of terror on his face and I could see it in his eyes that he wasn't lying. Coming from a tough 6'1, 250 lb. former football player, it had to be believed.
This is the story as it was relayed to me.......
Nic's
parent's house is situated in a small community in Southwestern Ontario,
smack beside one of the communities graveyards. Rather fitting for a ghost
story, wouldn't you say?
By all accounts, the graveyard is kept up beautifully and is not creepy at all. I remember thinking when he first told me that his parent's lived beside a graveyard, that I wouldn't be too keen about visiting, but when I did, I didn't get any negative feelings at all.
At one time the house was thought to have been either a church, school house, and/or even a barn. The house is so old, that no one quite knows exactly what it was built as. After extensive renovations, the house became quite livable, and comfortable.
The first floor has been renovated to take on an open concept. This renovation is still in progress, and soon to be finished. Off to the side of what is to be part of the living area, are the very steep stairs heading up to the 3 bedrooms. The stairway going up is very narrow and dark from the oak wood paneling that was installed 10 years ago. The rest of the upstairs is decorated in the same fashion, making it dark and very hard to see.
As you step up on the landing, directly in front is his bedroom, to the left are the other two bedrooms and a very small bathroom. The way that his bed would have been set at that time, is that the headboard would have been located on the other side of the wall that faces the landing, then there's the doorway. This is important to note as part of story.
This one particular night when the rest of his family was out, Nic was laying in bed waiting to fall asleep. He told me that the time was around 1:00. Pretty normal time for a 16 yr. old to be up. All was quiet for a long time, when he heard a noise that sounded like a knock at the bottom of the stairs. He really didn't think much about it, house settling, animal perhaps, the knock was very faint anyway. So he forgets it and is waiting for sleep to come.
A few minutes later the same noise is heard. and it is definitely a knock. This time it's a bit louder. Once again, he brushes it off, thinking that there was some logical explanation for this to happen. Then again, a bit later, the knock is heard coming from the stair wall....it sounds as if this knocking is continuing up the stairway...this time it's even louder than the previous two times.
Now Nic is scared, thinking that someone has broken into the house and is slowly making their way up the stairs. After a bit, all is quiet, and there are no more knocks or noises. Nic relaxes, thinks how silly he is for being afraid and is trying yet again to fall asleep. Just as he's almost asleep, he hears the knock again...and this time he figures it's about at the top of the stairway. By now, he's fully expecting to see someone pop their head into his room...maybe one of his crazy friends that likes to pull pranks...anything that he can think rationally. Once again there is silence...this time it holds out longer.
Nic still doesn't know what to think about all that's going on. All he knows is that he's not going to be leaving his bed for anything! Just then. as things have calmed down yet again he hears the knock again, but this time it's directly above his head on his wooden headboard! He knows it was his headboard because he could feel the vibrations from the headboard. All he could do at this time was to look to see if someone was around the bed...playing a joke, but no such luck. There was no one there.........
That was the last he heard of the knocking that night, and for the rest of the
time he spent living there. I do know that he was scared to sleep in that
house for many months after the incident. When he told me that story, I was
almost in tears I was so creeped out.
I hope you enjoyed my story
One
of the best submissions ever!!! That would have scared the "you know
what" outta me! Especially considering that unless one is willing to
bail out the window, the ONLY way out is down those stairs!
This one gets creepier the more one dwells on it...
He Came Back...
Submitted by "William G."
Hailing
from: Liverpool,England
Where it happened: Liverpool,England
Posted on: 8/9/03
A few months after my father-in-law died my wife and I went to visit my sister-in-law. My sister in-law lives just yards away from the cemetery where her dad is buried. I can see his gravestone now, as I write, there is a photograph of him embedded in the top right hand corner of the stone.
My sister in law, her name is Jane, had a strange and spooky story to tell us when we arrived.
This is
what she told us:
One evening, a few weeks ago, her young daughter, whom she had just put to bed, ran
to the top of the stairs and called her. Her daughter, Michelle, told her that
she had just seen a man in her room and he had disappeared under her bed.
Jane told her that she was just having a bad dream and she should get back into bed and go to sleep. Michelle (Shelley) said that she had seen him before. On that occasion she was down stairs watching television when she heard a noise in the hallway. On going out into the hall she saw a man at the top of the stairs. He then floated down the stairs, and on spinning around, vanished.
She told this same story to my wife’s brother-in-law when he had visited her. Noticing that Shelley was becoming upset at the telling of the story said to her that he would go upstairs to her room to make sure that there was nothing to be scared about. He went upstairs to Shelley’s room, and, moments later ran down the stairs, through the back door into the garden, and there he was physically sick. He left the house as quickly as he could and later, on subsequent visit, said that he did not see anything in Shelley’s room.
Nobody in the family believed him.
BRAVO ! ! ! I loved this one! It has all the stuff that makes my hair turn white! Do you believe this was your father-in-law or something more sinister?
Piano Man...
Submitted by "Jackie P."
Hailing
from: Roanoke,
Virginia
Where it happened: "Somewhere
near the Virginal/ Tennessee border, July or August 1981."
Posted on: 8/9/03
Don't be fooled by my email address, I am an amateur writer but I didn't
make
this up. In fact, I am not even sure it is a ghost story. (That part
will make more sense when I tell you my story.)
It only happened once, to me. There was a church about 1/2 miles from my
uncle's house, and it was his job to mow the churchyard whenever it was
needed.
It just
so happened on this trip myself, my brother Jason and cousin
Dana accompanied him to the church. Jason would help mow and Dana had
planned on going in the church to practice the song she was going to play in
church the next day. I was going in with her to listen to her practice.
Leon (my
uncle, now deceased) and Jason had started unloading the mowers and mowing when
we, realizing we didn't have the key, had to go get it from Leon. (Keep in
mind, the key had always worked in the past.) Dana put it in the door and
IT WOULDN'T TURN. I tried it, and it wouldn't turn. I, to this day,
don't know why we did this, (the church was empty, there were no cars in the
parking lot). but we put our ears to the door, and HEARD
THE PIANO PLAYING.
That scared us, and we ran to get Leon and Jason and told them about it.
We
got Jason's attention first, and he tried the key. It wouldn't open for
him and he had to put his weight against the door. He pushed and suddenly
the doors opened, at that exact moment the piano stopped playing.
The first thing we did was look in and see who was playing it. (We had a clear view of the piano from the front door.) THERE WAS NO ONE THERE. By this time, Leon had joined us. We then walked through the church, starting at that door and ending coming out of the only door that lead outside from the basement.
We found
nothing and nobody. We were literally on the steps coming out of the
basement, when we all heard a noise and turned and looked. It was the
sounds of sledge hammers on concrete. (The basement is made out of cinder
block.) We turned back around and practically ran up the last few steps to
get to the outside.
Scary, huh.
However, there are a few things I need to point out so you will have all the
information. The basement exit we came out of was never locked. I
don't recall there ever being a door there to lock.
I know what you are thinking, someone came in the basement door and exited
the same way without us seeing them. Possible. Except, and I
swear on a stack of bibles it's true, the piano stopped playing at
the EXACT moment we opened the doors.
The way the church is constructed, it would have been impossible for anyone to leave without us seeing them. The person would have had to get up from the piano, go into a small room, its door being right next to where the piano sat, walk the length of the room, about 7 or 8 feet, then turn and go down the staircase that lead to the basement. This being the case, we should have seen them at some point before they went down, especially since that is the way we went to get to the basement. In the off chance they could do all of that with us not seeming them, their escape would have been easy, down a small hill to the railroad tracks that ran alongside the church, or down the road that lead to the church. There is a hill where the road crosses the railroad tracks, so we wouldn't have been able to see them if they had gotten that far.
(Just for your info. the tracks are approximately 10 feet from the church. The
road where it crosses the railroad tracks, is approximately 30 feet away.)
I was around 10 years old when it happened and I still wander about it. It
scared me so bad; I didn't go back to that church for about 3 years. One
strange footnote to this story is that after my dad and half-sister heard the
story, they said they had had similar experiences in that church.
I, at one time, thought it was connected to my grandfather. He died before
I was born and I thought he was buried in that graveyard for the longest time.
I thought it was him letting us all know he was around. I found that kind
of comforting. I didn't find out until years later he was buried in
another graveyard, probably 10 miles away.
I have ABSOLUTELY no idea what the deal was with the sledge hammer sounds. There
was no work going on the church at that time, of any kind. There were no other
vehicles in the parking lot besides ours. Creepy.
Any comments, suggestions, thoughts, etc. welcome at: horrorwriter2b@hotmail.com
Thanks Jackie! Let us know if you get "buried" under e-mail and we will remove your address... Too bad you couldn't find our if they had "lost" a musical soul...
Driving with Granny...
Submitted by "Kathy L."
Hailing
from: Not Stated
Where it happened: Not
Stated
Posted on: 8/9/03
My story is from almost a year ago.
As a child growing up, I lived with my grandparents for the first 8 years of my life, with my 4 siblings, and for the teen years. Somehow, as the youngest child of the set, I became a "favorite" of both my grandparents.
In their elderly years, they both had to be put in nursing homes, and my grandmother, with her loving ways, but ailing heart left us first. I was there with her, holding her hand when she looked over my shoulder and smiled. She simply held my hand, said my name and looked past me. I looked over my shoulder to see what she was looking at. I thought perhaps there was a bulletin board, or something of that nature there as in some nursing homes, but it was a bare wall.
At that moment, I knew something greater than me was with us whether it was another person that has passed on, or what, I do not know. But that is not the scary part. Grandma died the next morning at about 7:00am. She had asked me not to let her go to heaven without her wedding rings. They had been misplaced during heart surgery years earlier. She insisted that she wouldn't go to heaven until she had those.
The
nursing home called and felt that she was on her way to that bright light.
I
jumped in my car and drove to the nearest Wal-Mart (no jewelry stores were open
at that hour). I purchased two pieces that were as close as I could get to
her original rings. She
died at the exact moment that is on the receipt for purchase of those two rings.
Then,
about a year ago, when my grandfather, affectionately grampy, came down with
aspiration pneumonia for the 5th time in 9 months, we knew it was only a matter
of time. I had spoken to my eldest sister the prior week, and indicated
that I was deeply saddened by this event, as I knew that although I would love
to have him by my side forever, I knew he could not go on suffering so.
During the night, I had the most real vivid dream/experience I have ever had. I was in the car with my grandmother. The car she owned when I was 15 and she had come to get me and take me home with her. She was telling me that everything would be okay and cupping my face with the palm of her hand as she drove home with me. I could smell her there with me. I could hear her voice just as if she was there physically in the room with me. I "came to" with a start and realized I was sobbing hysterically. In an instant I had an overwhelming urge to call my sister (she lives in another state). It was 3:00am.
In my
panic all I could think was that my grandfather had passed and grandma had come
to get him in their favorite car. Grampy used to call it his jalopy. My
poor sister was awakened by a panicked sobbing voice and had no idea what to
say. Then she said "You know, I think Grandma just came to let you
know, that even though the end is near for Grandpa, you are going to be
okay."
Incidentally, I sat for three full days with Grampy while he was unresponsive,
but alive and read to him from his favorite Louis Lamour books. I told him each
date and time of day every so often. He frequently had bouts that he would
look at the ceiling and shake his head violently and wave his fists as though he
was
angered and was "putting his foot down" as he used to say when us kids
would
get into trouble.
I had to
leave his side when all of the relatives except my parents had arrived. I
had to pick my parents up at the airport 2 hours away.
I told
Grampy what the time was, I told him what day it was, and kissed him
goodbye for the last time. I was called at the airport within minutes of
arriving and told that Grampy had passed. The family felt that he didn't
want me to see him go, and he trusted I would bring his son to him.
I miss him.
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