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This is a question Tales of the Unexplained

Flying saucers. Big Cats. Men in Black. Satan walking the Earth. Derek Acorah, also walking the Earth...

Tell us your stories of the supernatural. WoooOOOooOO!

suggestion by Kaol

(, Thu 3 Jul 2008, 10:03)
Pages: Latest, 21, 20, 19, 18, 17, 16, ... 1

This question is now closed.

The fame of Jade Goody
.... Stumps me every time.
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 10:06, 6 replies)
My experience in California
Although I now live in Wakefield, I was actually born in the western suburbs of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and spent all my formative years living there. I wasn't the most academic of students, and actually spent most days skiving off school playing basketball. Things were pretty uneventful until a pair of dodgy-looking chaps started causing a bit of a kerfuffle in my local area, and unfortunately I ended up in a minor scrap one day. I thought nothing of it, but my mother freaked out and completely over-reacted, deciding that I should leave home and go and live with my Uncle Philip and Aunt Viv in their big house in California, right on the other side of the country! The flight there was pretty dull - the only thing that stood out was the personalised number plate and fluffy dice that the idiosyncratic taxi driver had - but on my first night there I saw A FUCKING GREAT BIG GHOST!
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 9:50, 5 replies)
I was once haunted
by a jumper I owned.

Then I found out someone had died in the wool.

(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 9:20, 6 replies)
.....And in the morning

All of their old noses had grown back!

(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 9:17, 1 reply)
This happened a few years ago
...a strange shadow was seen moving through the back gardens of peoples houses late at night in Morriston, Swansea. A few people had noticed odd sightings of this strange vision for a while, until eventually the Police were called in as the shadow got stuck in one garden.

The shadow? Some nutter in a ninja suit complete with sword in a sheath on his back "patrolling the area". Apparently he'd been doing it for weeks keeping the area safe. From other nutters, presumably.
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 8:58, 2 replies)
I'm actually a skeptic, and do not believe in ghosts, but....
In my current house, odd things have happened...

For instance, having just put all the cutlery away after emptying the dishwasher, I have gone back a little while later to find, in the draw, that they have all been swapped around... I've taken out a mug to make a cup of tea, put the kettle on, left the kitchen, only to return to find the cup back in the cupboard. Any time this has happened there has been no one else about... To be honest, I'm probably just losing my mind :)

Then came something that really did freak me out a just bit... My dog started barking for no reason. I found him in the livingroom, wagging his tail and barking like mad at the wall... Still not figured that one out yet, but at the time it reminded me so much of poltergeist that it was just a bit unfunny...
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 8:44, 1 reply)
Psychic Time
I often correctly guess the current time and after checking I am usually correct down to the minute.

I put this down to either coincidence or subconsciously seeing a clock shortly before but it happens far to frequently.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and know what time it is before rolling over to check my clock.

Its not a trick I can perform on request it only happens if the time just pops into my head so I can't even prove it!
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 8:41, 6 replies)
A rather large bunch of people,
obviously lliterate, most of them in industrialized countries, living under the enlightment of the XXIth century... who believe in ghosts!

(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 8:38, 7 replies)
also heard about
this street where sausages suddenly started appearing overnight in peoples letter boxes, on their front lawns, on their roofs...

Always cooked...

For weeks on end...

No-one could explain it...

Some sort of nightly spectral infestation? or maybe a mean jest..


I heard they were thick and long...
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 6:27, 1 reply)
Ghost Ship
I served 3 years in the Israeli navy on a small 60m ship. my ship was the oldest ship in the israeli navy and i'm 100% sure it was haunted.. i have alot of ghost-like stories but i will tell you one.

So, it's 3 o'clock at night, i'm standing and guarding the ship alone. not a single person is awake and the docks are dead silent. like every hour, i went down to the machinery room to write down the generator statistics. i got into the control room with my back to the machinery room, and then i heared a loud noise behind me (it sounded like someone jumped from the hatch above, which is 3m high from the metalic floor, and i heared quick steps towards the exit door.

I turned around (after almost pissing myself), and no one was there. my first though was that someone's just fucking with me, so i went to check it out, i went through every room inside the ship, no one was awake. went outside of the ship, no one there..

I finished my last 30 minutes of guarding with my heart in my pants, and afterwards i had a bit hard time falling asleep...

This is only one of the weird shit that happened there..
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 6:24, 4 replies)
at last I know I'm not the only one...
"i found myself in the really weird position of having seen it all before. not sure how that could happen - but i was really dis-orientated as it was such a perfect replica of my dreams, or my dreams were of such perfect form of the reality - bazza van der trance"

It was kinda spooky reading that... I don't know how many times I have had seemingly innocuous dreams of simple, everyday situations that then occur weeks or months later.

I have mentioned it to my wife & brother at times & had those dreams dismissed as just 'similar' to expected, normal situations.

But here's the crux: How can my brain POSSIBLY imagine/construct being somewhere I have never seen before?

example: We moved into a new rental place 8 months ago. A few weeks ago I was sitting at the dining room table with my young kids when I get the feeling I have been there before... I remembered seeing that EXACT situation (where I was sitting, where the kids were sitting, how old they were, etc) in a dream I had BEFORE we even moved from our old house...

So how could I know:
1) what the new house would look like?
2) what age my kids would be in that situation?
3) where we would all be seated?

Oh, and it's not just the look of the scenario that I dream about - I also know how I'm feeling & what I'm thinking about in these dreamed situations.

I have these dreams often enough that I'm not afraid of them, but invariably as soon as I get that feeling of 'this is familiar', I start really paying attention to where I am & what's happening around me.

These dreams are always in the 1st person, so it's only ever situations that I will find myself in later. & it's completely involuntary.

strange? spooky?

Sorry for length - first time & all that.

Would have been longer if the missus had showed up..
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 6:09, 3 replies)
On the way to and from work
my friend Matt used to pass this old house. It was reputed to be haunted, had sat empty for years, was mostly ruined inside and was scheduled to be torn down. I remember the house myself, though I don't have a story about it.

Matt had never seen anything particularly odd that he couldn't explain, though people in the neighbourhood were full of stories.

One night, on his way home from a nice day at work, Matt looked up to see a light in the third-floor window of the house and the silhouette of a person walking back and forth in front of the window.

'Aha!' thinks he. 'All the stories of ghosts are due to homeless people camping out in the house!'

And then he remembered that the floors of the top two storeys had collapsed completely several years earlier.
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 5:15, Reply)
Flying Bread
I was looking after a friends house once and as I walked past the side of it, two whole slices of bread swooped from the sky and landed at my feet. I looked up and saw no sign of birds, so thought that my friend might be back and decided to have a bit of bread-based fun. Inspection of the house showed no sign of my friend. There was nobody else on the street at the time and the house is an end of terrace. I still have no idea where the bread came from.
(, Wed 9 Jul 2008, 2:58, 6 replies)
To be honest, very little freaky has ever happened to me...

I do live pretty close to this:


which now makes it difficult to sleep properly, even though the kids were blatantly faking it.

EDIT: JESUS! Just as I was re-reading that, getting myself nicely into imagination overdrive for bed time, the fucking cat just crashed against the window in a stupidly loud fashion. Little furry bastard!
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 23:03, Reply)
Two stories:

My dad's a surveyor. He's a rational sort of chap and has been in countless houses over the years and he says there's only ever been one that really shit him up.

Sometime in the 70s or 80s, I forget which but before I was born, he used to do surveys for British Rail before it was privatised. They asked him to inspect these two semi-detached cottages that were pretty much derelict and a good 500 years old. So my dad duly goes to have a look and he said they were the creepiest houses he has ever been in, with a real sense of evil and a generally bad atmosphere. Aside from that, when my dad was downstairs it felt like someone or something was upstairs and vice versa when he was upstairs. He couldn't get out fast enough.

Needless to say, he told them to demolish the fuckers.

The second instance involves my mum. When I was 10 years old and the night before Christmas Eve (that was a fun Christmas in our house), my grandma was taken ill and died suddenly.

My mum remembers my grandma (her mum) collapsing with suspected pneumonia and them calling an ambulance. My grandma was alive and just about conscious when they put her in the ambulance. My dad went with her and my mum followed behind in the car, having made sure me and my brother were being looked after by a family friend.

My mum says she was driving behind the ambulance, panicking about her mum, what would happen to her, thinking she would have to come and live with us as she was getting old and so on. At this stage, nobody really thought my grandma would die, just that she was very ill. Anyway, my mum stops at some traffic lights, thinking a million thoughts at once and then all of a sudden she is totally calm for no reason. It later turned out that this was at the same time as my grandma died in the ambulance. Probably a coincidence but we like to think maybe it was my grandma's way of telling my mum not to worry.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 22:49, 3 replies)
Mysterious tales from a bygone era

I have enjoyed immensely reading your internet pages after finding them by chance last week. Monica, my wife of 47 years, commented that 'beater.com' would be more suited to a wife-slapping pornography site, but I think that that is most unfair.

The reason that causes me to write is that I noted with interest your request for ghostly, supernatural tales. I believe that I may be in a position to help. I was born in Sheffield 82 years ago and spent most of my formative period living in Beighton, Sheffield. As a result of a decorating accident I now live in Natal province, South Africa, but it is of great comfort to me to know that Beighton is still alive and well, and not bulldozed for scrap as was recommended by the Labour council in 1953.

My grandfather related a tale to me - a tale taken from his childhood - over a warm glass of egg-nog one dark, wintry Christmas night. Initially, I believed it to be something he had invented on the spot to scare me, but shortly after hearing the story I was introduced to several of his fellow inmates who were also resident in the Beighton area during the period that this story relates to, and who each of whom solemnly confirmed the story was true.

My tale revolves around the death of one Lawrence Baines-Kennington. Lawrence was a man of middle-age who was found in the middle of Wood Lane in Beighton, as dead as the stones with which it was cobbled. No rational explanation for what happened can be given. Only otherworldly reasons can possibly fit the facts. The story runs as follows.

Lawrence Baines-Kennington was a popular bachelor of the parish - a well-liked, well-off friend to many who was fond of visiting with his friends at the 'Pike and Lantern', a public hostelry standing near the site of Our Lady of the Brothel Church, just off the High Street. In those days, it was the fashion to found churches dedicated to the more minor or obscure characters of the Bible and in this case the rather - in my opinion - misguided congregation of the Our Lady of the Brothel Church were in the habit of offering their praise up to Mary Magdelene, the notorious prostitute from the New Testament. Further down the street was a chapel dedicated to the man who held Lazarus's jacket. This is what happens when churches enter into theological contest with themselves, and such is the stuff of religious schism. But I digress.

Baines-Kennington spent the evening in question dallying with Lemuella Tubbs, the farmer's wife. She was clearly smitten with him and many thought foul play was afoot, but I am not so judgemental. "Judge not, lest ye be judged" say those ridiculous, fatuous christians, and I like to think that I am tolerant and broad-minded enough to accept their wisdom. Presently, Farmer Tubbs himself entered the tavern and upon seeing the scene therein of his wife and a local bachelor in such cosy conversation, he abandoned his idea of a quiet few pints of the local 'Beighton Rotgut' (I'm sure you are familiar with it also), and elected to grasp his wife firmly by the hair and to drag her - kicking and screaming - into the street and thence away home to the farm. The barroom returned its attention back to the pressing matter of ale and soon forgot the distasteful event that had just occurred, dwelling instead upon happier matters.

Three hours later, after carrying on to drink what must have been his own weight in Guinness, Lawrence started on his long, tiring journey home along the High Street. He was a little the worse for wear, but he knew the terrain well and could have made it home blindfold if need be needed.

What happened next is muttered in hushed tones even to this day by those who remember its telling. A witness, Norris Lampendew, saw an eerie shining rise up behind the hill near the gate of Tubbs Farm. The light at the crest of the hill grew brighter and brighter still, and then almost without warning a pair of ghostly lights rose over the top of the hill and began to bear down upon Lawrence at demonic speed. They were accompanied by a devilish sound - a sound to make the heart freeze and the blood in your veins crystallise with fright. It sounded for all the world like 'cocketty-cocketty-cocketty', with an irregular, fearful grinding noise. The sound and the lights drew nearer, and before Norris Lampendew could cry out a warning, the thing was upon Lawrence. There was a bang, and then Lawrence was thrown physically from the place he was standing, high up into the air, to land some three feet away from where he had stood moments before. The lights turned a corner, and vanished, and the noise faded like the memory of the smell of a childhood pet.

Norris ran like the wind, and when he arrived at the scene, there was clearly no hope for Lawrence Baines-Kennington. He was dead, evidently from satanic possession. Whatever the lights and noise were, they had possessed Lawrence and shattered his body. It was just too late.

No-one was ever able to explain the events of that night, so many years ago. Only one witness - Norris Lampendew - was there to relate the tale I now set before you, and he was so afeared that he nearly went mad with fright. It is said that Norris died but a few months later, never to recover from what he had seen, and in a pool of his own urine, faeces and puke.

Equally terrifying and mysterious was the damage done around the district that same night. A local reported hearing a great collision in his yard, and went out to find his gate smashed to smithereens. A woman claimed that she had left her table out on the pavement overnight to dry, and in the morning had found it crushed as if by some great force of evil. And Tubbs himself had woken up in his barn and gone out into his paddock to find the front of his delivery van damaged almost beyond repair, as if the devil himself had given his radiator grille a fucking good kicking.

None of us could explain, but we always feared the return of the phantom lights and noise. Grown men would cast a glance about before crossing a road in the dark, and children would be told not to go out at night, lest 'Daddy Cockkety-Pop' get them.

I hope that I have answered your call in some small way, and please feel free to share this story with your readers. If you wish to get in touch, I would be happy to see what else I am able to dig out from this tired old memory!

Until then, Sir, I remain your obedient servant,

Lewis Creamshields (retired)
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 22:48, 2 replies)
Completely Inexplicable
I've got a transfer exam tomorrow morning. What this basically entails is giving a talk to two professors about what I've been doing for the past year, before they're allowed to question me probingly and at length (oo-er) and then decide whether I'm worth keeping on for the rest of the phd.

The inexplicable? For the first time in my life on such an occasion, my stools have not taken on a texture akin to either a baked oblong of clay, nor anything which would interest a geologist. Something's not right...

Also, the first thing I did this morning was - in an attempt to be helpful - knacker a piece of equipment. It was a fragile little deeley and anybody could have made the same mistake. I just felt a bit bad, given it had only been delivered the week before and we'd been waiting a few years for it.

The inexplicable? My supervisor's response was simply: "Ah, well, shit happens."

EDIT: Change of mood. "Tomorrow morning" has become "in about forty minutes" and I think I'm about to lay an egg. So at least my state of mind has returned to normal.

I'll of course let you know if I do actually lay an egg. That would probably count as something "unexplained." Or maybe just "bloody weird."
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 22:21, 2 replies)
And another thing....
Now, on the very same night as I felt the dog asleep on my legs, there was another puzzling incident.

I had leapt up and not thinking too much about the dog thing, realised I was going to be late for work. I changed my trousers, then as I was about to do my belt up decided to go for a piss. Leaving it undone, I strode the 5 steps to the bathroom, and as I did so, felt my Leatherman slip off the belt and heard it hit the floor. In Piss-Mode, I didn't stop, burst into the bathroom, drained the lizard, then went back to where I had dropped the Leatherman.

Of course the fucking thing wasn't there, despite my fingertip search. I use it all the time at work, so spent more time than I should have, combing every inch of that landing, along with the bedroom I had set off from. Nothing. I looked down the stairs, on the stairs, still no sign. Eventually I left for work, I'd find it later.

Except I didn't find it later. I absolutely turned the house upside down over the next few days looking for it, but still no sign.

The little pup must have taken it, she was a little bastard for chewing stuff up, perhaps she took a fancy to the leather sheath and slyly taken it into the garden for a chew-up.

I instructed the gardeners (OK, OK, my parents) to mount a recent-burial search, but all to no avail, the fucking thing was gone.

In late January I was resigned to never seeing my trusty tool (steady!) again, so faced up to the prospect of shelling out for another one (they aren't cheap!).

As I looked on-line for a good deal, I saw something out of the corner of my eye, something falling straight down, and heard a muffled thump. I looked, could see nothing, put it down to "one of those things", then decided to leave ordering another Leatherman for that night and go to work. I took one step away from my chair and stood straight on my missing Leatherman, which was sitting in the middle of the floor.

I wish I could say it was red-hot, or lying next to an ancient coin, but it wasn't. I was however, most pleased to be reunited with it, and I did thank "them" for returning it to me. Best to keep them sweet eh?
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 21:21, 6 replies)
A Dog-gone tale
Two years ago, Christmas, I was having my usual early evening nap, face down on my bed.

As per every day, I slept for an hour and woke at about 7pm, I had work to go out to do. As I lay there groggily, I felt my little dog lying on the back of my legs, a small ball of heat, as she also did every night.

Which is when I abruptly realised the little dog was 6 months dead.

OK, so I'm wide awake now, no panic, but I can feel the weight of the dog on my legs. Comforting, but strange.

Now, being a dog-person, home is not home without a dog, so there was now a little puppy in residence. I rationally worked out she had managed to get upstairs and onto my bed and found a nice warm spot to sleep, the crook of my legs.

Mystery solved, I turned my head on the pillow......and came face to face with the puppy, fast asleep.

So she was up there, what was lying on my legs? I wish I could say, but I was up off the bed like a fucking Exocet!

Suffering from Narcolepsy as I do, I have plenty of hypnopompic/hypnogogic/hallucinatory experiences, along with sleep paralysis incidents, they are run-of-the-mill to me. I am used to them and can rationalise them as they occur, they are just part of the wonder that is the human machine.

The dog thing was strange though, it felt "different", but not unpleasant.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 21:15, Reply)
Miners that disappear into thin air
My town, like many other towns “Ooop Norf” is riddled with mine shafts all over the place. Word has it, that you can walk from one end of where I live to the other underground (in theory). And locally to me, a few houses collapsed asunder due to a collapsed mineshaft that couldn’t take the weight. My town is one of those 1960’s “New Towns” where they built tonnes of houses and banged an industrial estate on the outskirts.

Panteneman Snr was a security guard many moons ago, and many of the factories had been built over where the mines used to be and were long sealed off, concreted over and factories stuck on top of them after they were closed down some time ago.

He once mentioned a factory that he used to do night watch on, and one area of the factory was strangely cold, a cold patch if you will that was just in a random area of the factory. The guard dogs would often not walk through it, and often walked completely around it as if it was some strange circular “no go area”, and would bark randomly at it for no apparent cause.

One time, he had heard word from a terrified employee from one of the factories and he had quit working at said place. It turns out that one night during the nightshift, the employee was reported to have seen a miner walk through the factory, in full mining regalia and davey lamp, and then vanish into thin air.

It turns out that some 150 odd years ago (excuse the inaccuracy) there was an underground explosion in one of the mine shafts that took out something like 50 miners or thereabouts. There has been reports of strange instances like this occur in other factories that are nearby in the same location.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 21:13, Reply)
Coming home?
Sitting at the kitchen table, one Summer's day a couple of years ago, having breakfast and reading the paper, I had left the back door open for the dog to go in and out as she pleased. As I sat there in silence, I distinctly heard someone lift the hanging beads away from the door and step into the house, I heard their shoe connect with the step. Now I rarely leave the door open unless I'm near it, especially after a mink incident (one day I'll doubtless relate the tale here) and more pertinently, in case some scrote strolls in and helps himself to my stuff, as is their wont, evidently.

I couldn't actually see the back door from my seat at the table, it's in the utility room, so I said nothing, I didn't move, I just lifted my eyes and waited for whoever it was to move further. Nothing.
I glanced down at the dog, who had been waiting to scrounge some of my breakfast, and she had turned her head to the doorway and was sitting expectantly too, ears pricked.
I heard a newspaper being folded, and at that point thought
"Fuck it, this is obviously a burglar", and leapt up and across to the utility room doorway, screaming "Banzai!!!" or more probably "Motherfuckeeeeeer!!"

As you would guess, from the general subjects in this QOTW, there was no-one there. The beads weren't moving, nothing, just an empty room. I obviously called the dog a cowardly bastard and ran into the garden to see if there was anyone trying to escape, but nothing.

I was slightly disturbed, I KNOW the beads had moved and someone had stepped into the house, but I wasn't scared, just puzzled.

A few days later I was informed that the old boy who used to live next door, who had reluctantly gone North to live with his son as he was getting too old to cope on his own, had died that week. Sitting quietly, reading his newspaper, apparently.

His house had been bought by a builder who has extended it, and moved the doorway etc. and I like to think that the old chap came "home" on his death, didn't recognise the place or the layout, so came next-door to see if the neighbours were still the same.
I was, I still was cursing and swearing, this time at some invisible visitor with his paper under his arm.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 20:40, Reply)
One time
I had a tough charlie-horse in my right thigh. And I was on a school bus on the way home from a band trip.
Well, during said charlie-horse, moron freshman decided to try to tickle me like a good band student.
I said through gritted teeth, "stop now" and took his hand and threw it back at him. Well, right when I threw it back he got a charlie-horse in the same place.
Cue my evil chuckle.
Freaky, eh?

Charlie-horse: slang term for muscle cramp.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 20:21, 10 replies)
About twelve years ago - I would have been only eleven or so - my family had encounters
with a bizarre entity that regularly passed through our house. I'm not superstitious or religious. I've tried to rationalize it to this day, so any logical explanation would be welcome, though I've heard many and none can account for this completely.

My dad has always been a workaholic, so it came as no surprise that he would often invite colleagues home to conduct business after work. Though we live in the States the company is largely European, so I was also quite used to meeting men who didn't speak much English. They'd stay until the wee hours talking work and sports, and always remembered to say goodnight to my brother and I. It was like a big extended family, and they were all quite friendly...apart from one man.

The Spanish-speaking man.

Everyone had assumed he was another work colleague, but Dad had no idea who we were talking about. It did strike me as odd that I'd seen him roaming the upstairs hall in the dead of night, then gone down to find him in the kitchen staring out the window longingly. This continued for years, at least once a month I'd see him.

I never thought he was a ghost, as he'd clearly interact with things and respond with ¡déjeme en paz! when I'd talk to him. Everyone had apparently seen him except my dad, though no one seemed to react as strongly as I felt they should.

"For God's sake, there might be a crazy vagrant loose in our house! You've seen him yourself!"

"He's harmless," they'd say.


I started thinking I was crazy. My strongest theory was that I'd been suffering from hallucinations and my family had simply been playing along for fear of upsetting me. But I didn't speak Spanish, how could I hallucinate it?!

One night, the man changed into something else.

He came to be called Epanta. I'm uncertain from whence this name originated, though it resonated through my brain in his presence. He became impossible to look at, unfathomable, like trying to focus inside a dream only to find things becoming more vague - like an outline of a creature, an impression of presence with no form. I caught only glimpses of him from that point on. His voice had become shrill and electronic, as if being run through a high-pass filter. He became everything a ghost should be.

What the hell was wrong with me? The others had stopped seeing him. They'd say he was sick, unhealthy...or was it myself?

I felt betrayed. My family had disregarded the vision with infuriating indifference toward my rapidly waning mental stability, and Epanta no longer responded, no longer sang his Spanish tune by the fireplace. It hadn't occurred to me earlier, but I loved him like an old friend.

A foul combination of bitterness and fear welled up inside me as I trudged down the stairs one night in late December, ready to confront the being.

"¡Epanta! ¿¡Por qué no hablas más!?"

"Niño, niño, niño...Soy débil, y... y voy al cielo ahora. Lo siento, niño."

I started crying. I was angry. My mother descended the stairs to find me hitting the stones above the fireplace. Somehow I'd ended up with hand-shaped bruises on my arms and a broken nose.

"What happened?!" she screamed.

"Nothing, it was one little fight."

But my mom got scared. She said, "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air."

I whistled for a cab, but when it came near the license plate said FRESH and it had dice in the mirror. If anything, I could say this cab was rare and I thought - nah forget it - yo homes, to Bel Air!
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 19:25, 8 replies)
When I used to stay at my friends house aged between nine and fifteen, I used to wake up at around 4am every single time I slept there feeling someone watching me from the end of the bed. At first I got scared but then after a while I just got annoyed and learned to ignore it and go back to sleep. Apparently the house was haunted - her stepmum used to wake up in the middle of the night with someone shaking her, and her dad once said he woke up in the night to the sound of someone playing the piano. I don't know how much of it's true, but the house did feel weird. We also used to hear footsteps and bangs in the attic. I am sceptic about it all however.

The most horrible thing that's ever happened to me because it is entirely unexplainable happened one night when I saw someone walk past the french doors in our living room. Both me and my mum saw it, and convinced someone was in the back garden we went into the conservatory (which is next to where the french doors are) to tell them to bugger off. However there was no-one there, and it immediately became apparent that this person would have to have walked through the trellis and the garden chairs to get to where we had seen them. Spooky and horrible.

My best friend used to live next to the graveyard in a house where the previous owner had hung themselves. Lots of spooky occurences in that house, including me seeing a shadow walking along the corridor near the bathroom (in the middle of the day), appliances switching on and off, and my dad (who is the biggest sceptic ever) personally seeing a toy train switch itself on and off. It was a playgroup meeting (my friend has a small brother and I have a small sister) and one of the children had just said 'Wouldn't it be funny if the train stopped by itself?'. It immediatley did, and my dad shat himself.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 18:44, 1 reply)
About 3 years ago, I lost my virginity.

....That's about it.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 18:15, 1 reply)
The number 10.
My first home away from my parents was a number 10 where I stayed for many years, as was the last one I had where I lived for 7 years, my present abode happens to be a number 10 (4 years) and belongs to my other half whose parents have just moved house, to a number 10.

I never in any way picked any of the previous flats/houses for their number, it just seems to happen a lot.
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 18:10, 5 replies)
The mystery of the phone bill.....
I live in a student house with 3 other girls and the other day we were looking through past phone bills to work out whether Tiscali had changed their pricing (they had, but that's beside the point) when me and my housemate came across a very strange list of calls for the 21st of January. The calls were timed from midnight til 4.20am, and were all a variation on Brighton 311311, but slightly different each time. They eventually reached the speaking clock. Now there is only one housemate who is ever up at that sort of time (and she's a tale of the unexplained on her own!) so wondering if she was drunk, we asked her if she could remember what she was doing that night, and she couldn't. So there, a tale of the unexplained!

Sorry for boringness, but I don't believe on ghosts or UFOs or anything, I'm a scientist!
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 18:05, Reply)
Top of the stairs...
Many years ago mum Wenzel was very ill with cancer, shortly before she passed away, she repeatedly saw her Aunt Mary stood at the top of our stairs. Nothing wrong with that you say, except Aunt Mary had been dead for 30 odd years...

The day mum died, I did the horrible task of ringing all relatives to let them know... when it came to ringing relatives in the US, my aunt there answered the phone and new straight away what had happened (to be fair it was expected) but she said she know she died as the rocking chair mum sat in when she was over there started rocking like mad, and she had the exact time of death. My aunt was a very superstitious type and said it was mums spirit visiting all her friends.

Move on a few years and we had moved my grandad (mums dad) in with us as he was 90 odd and needed the care. One day he was really ill and we had to phone for an ambulance. When the ambulance crew arrived they got him stable, and as they were taking him out of the front door in the chair he looked straight up the stairs and said "don't worry daughter, I'll be back soon"

The ambulance crew were looking upstairs and seeing my reaction to this comment one asked:
paramedic: "who was he talking to?"
me: "my mum, his daughter..."
paramedic: "oh, where is she?"
me: "been dead 3 years"

Both went white and left quickly and quietly, given the things paramedics see on a daily basis, I wouldn't have expected them to be struck by the fear so much.

Length? like i said, top of the stairs...
(, Tue 8 Jul 2008, 17:53, 4 replies)

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