So this week, as some of you may have noticed, is all about the spooks and ghouls!
Anyone who knows me, knows that I am particularly pathetic when it comes to being scared. I am the one who watched ET from behind the sofa. At a sleepover before high school, I squealed along with a bunch of girls to John Carpernter's Halloween. Not only did it put me off horror movies, but sleep overs gave me the fear too. What a film.
So I really can't imagine how I got into writing paranormal stories... truly I don't know. I would probably just die of fright if anything even remotely spooky happened to me like the things my poor characters have to suffer. Romance, yes, I can understand romance - who doesn't love a romance - but a ghost story? Yikes.
So instead of cosying up next to the fire with a bucket of popcorn and a chick flick this weekend, I am joining in the Haunting Halloween Blog Fest on Sunday. You'll recognise my posts by being the ones written in shaky writing from behind the sofa...
But then again, it is the time for pumpkin carving - I live in the UK and when we were kids, we used to carve turnips - can you imagine? It took about four days and a wrist splint - and you blunted all your mother's good knives... Hooray for pumpkins!
What vegetables did you used to carve?
Happy Halloween!
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ghosts. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
A true story -- really
As promised last Wednesday, I've got another strange story for you.
Yes, it's true.
Back in 2004, I was living in Ohio with my husband and two cats. I was working as an aide during the night shift at one of the nursing homes there. Strange things always happened within those walls, but this story has nothing to do with the nursing home.
It has to do with my home.
Some history. The old building I lived in was built way back in the early 1900s. The upstairs apartment was built by the one of the previous owners for his son who'd just returned home from the war. (That's World War 2.) I wouldn't have known any of this if I hadn't voted. Seems the lady voluteer at the voting place used to live in that old house. She saw the address and told me all about it.
My husband and I had lived there for about fifteen years before the strange things started to happen to me. At first I thought it was only because I'd been watching a lot of real-life ghost stories on the History Channel. But the strangeness still want on even after I'd stopped.
Late at night, after I'd turned off the light, I saw a dark shadowy figure moving through the kitchen. I also noticed the same shadows walking down the little narrow hall going into the spare bedroom. (We used it as a storage room.) I'll admit the shadows scared me, but I didn't let them bother me. I figured it was just my imagination.
Then one night I woke up frozen, knowing that someone was looking down on me. I felt cold, and it felt like my hair was standing up at the back of my neck. I couldn't move. I said a prayer and forced my hand toward the lamp. The feeling went away as soon as I turned it on.
This went on for a few weeks.(I worked four nights at the time.) My husband never sensed anything wrong.
When I mentioned it to my friends at the nursing home, they told me I should tell whoever it was to leave me alone. I started to do that.
Yet the feeling of someone standing over me still woke me up at night.
My husband was collecting unemployment during this time. (He worked a seasonal job at at local park.) He got bored sitting around the house so he brought some puzzles to put together. He set the puzzles up on an old drafting table we had in the back room. Winter was bad that year, making the back room cold and uncomfortable to be in for any length of time. He decided to clean out the register when he noticed that barely any heat was coming through it. (We'd never bothered doing it before because we rarely went into that room.) He found a lot of stuff hidden in the old heating pipe, so he decided to clean out the other ones again. Nothing was found in the living room one, but in the bedroom he found something caught up in the pipe leading down toward the basement heater. He really had to work at it to get it out of the disconnected pipe. When he finally managed it, he brought it out and cleaned it up. It was a Medal of Honor.
For a solder who fought in the World War 2.
The medal also had a name on it.
I thought 'wow'.
My husband checked in the phone book for someone with the last name. There was only one listing. He called and a woman answered.
The Medal belonged to her father-in-law.
He'd died six months or so before we found it caught up in the old pipe.
Almost at the same time I'd started sensing someone looking down at me in the middle of the night.
My husband took the medal to her. She was setting up some type of remembrance for him, and the Medal of Honor finished the memorial.
I never sensed the shadowy figure again.
He'd found what he was searching for all those months, and he finally found peace.
And so did I.
True story.
Yes, it's true.
Back in 2004, I was living in Ohio with my husband and two cats. I was working as an aide during the night shift at one of the nursing homes there. Strange things always happened within those walls, but this story has nothing to do with the nursing home.
It has to do with my home.
Some history. The old building I lived in was built way back in the early 1900s. The upstairs apartment was built by the one of the previous owners for his son who'd just returned home from the war. (That's World War 2.) I wouldn't have known any of this if I hadn't voted. Seems the lady voluteer at the voting place used to live in that old house. She saw the address and told me all about it.
My husband and I had lived there for about fifteen years before the strange things started to happen to me. At first I thought it was only because I'd been watching a lot of real-life ghost stories on the History Channel. But the strangeness still want on even after I'd stopped.
Late at night, after I'd turned off the light, I saw a dark shadowy figure moving through the kitchen. I also noticed the same shadows walking down the little narrow hall going into the spare bedroom. (We used it as a storage room.) I'll admit the shadows scared me, but I didn't let them bother me. I figured it was just my imagination.
Then one night I woke up frozen, knowing that someone was looking down on me. I felt cold, and it felt like my hair was standing up at the back of my neck. I couldn't move. I said a prayer and forced my hand toward the lamp. The feeling went away as soon as I turned it on.
This went on for a few weeks.(I worked four nights at the time.) My husband never sensed anything wrong.
When I mentioned it to my friends at the nursing home, they told me I should tell whoever it was to leave me alone. I started to do that.
Yet the feeling of someone standing over me still woke me up at night.
My husband was collecting unemployment during this time. (He worked a seasonal job at at local park.) He got bored sitting around the house so he brought some puzzles to put together. He set the puzzles up on an old drafting table we had in the back room. Winter was bad that year, making the back room cold and uncomfortable to be in for any length of time. He decided to clean out the register when he noticed that barely any heat was coming through it. (We'd never bothered doing it before because we rarely went into that room.) He found a lot of stuff hidden in the old heating pipe, so he decided to clean out the other ones again. Nothing was found in the living room one, but in the bedroom he found something caught up in the pipe leading down toward the basement heater. He really had to work at it to get it out of the disconnected pipe. When he finally managed it, he brought it out and cleaned it up. It was a Medal of Honor.
For a solder who fought in the World War 2.
The medal also had a name on it.
I thought 'wow'.
My husband checked in the phone book for someone with the last name. There was only one listing. He called and a woman answered.
The Medal belonged to her father-in-law.
He'd died six months or so before we found it caught up in the old pipe.
Almost at the same time I'd started sensing someone looking down at me in the middle of the night.
My husband took the medal to her. She was setting up some type of remembrance for him, and the Medal of Honor finished the memorial.
I never sensed the shadowy figure again.
He'd found what he was searching for all those months, and he finally found peace.
And so did I.
True story.
Labels:
ghosts,
Medal of Honor,
solder,
Theresa Stillwagon
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
A strange incident
Because this is October, I thought I'd post about a couple of strange things that happened to me years ago.
Way back in time, when I used to live in Ohio with my husband and cat, this not-so-scary thing happened.
His name was Dipstick. (The cat, not my husband. Even though sometimes...) My husband picked out the name not because the cat was stupid but because he walked around with a little curve at the tip of his tail like a dipstick. My husband was his favorite human, yet he did tolerate me at times. Especially dinner time -- and at night. He loved sleeping in the bed cradled next to the small of my back. I liked having him there. That cat was a good pick-me-up when I was feeling down. He tolerated me at those times, letting me hug him until I felt better.
One night, after I'd turned off the light and settled on my side, I felt him jump up on the bed, walk toward me and settled down. I could feel the slight pressure of his body against me. But, to my amazement, when I reached behind me to pet him, I touched only air.
Nothing.
Yet I could still feel him pressed against my back for a few seconds.
Then the feeling disappeared.
Strange?
Next Wednesday, I have an even stranger ghost story for you.
So what about you? Do you believe in ghosts?
Way back in time, when I used to live in Ohio with my husband and cat, this not-so-scary thing happened.
His name was Dipstick. (The cat, not my husband. Even though sometimes...) My husband picked out the name not because the cat was stupid but because he walked around with a little curve at the tip of his tail like a dipstick. My husband was his favorite human, yet he did tolerate me at times. Especially dinner time -- and at night. He loved sleeping in the bed cradled next to the small of my back. I liked having him there. That cat was a good pick-me-up when I was feeling down. He tolerated me at those times, letting me hug him until I felt better.
One night, after I'd turned off the light and settled on my side, I felt him jump up on the bed, walk toward me and settled down. I could feel the slight pressure of his body against me. But, to my amazement, when I reached behind me to pet him, I touched only air.
Nothing.
Yet I could still feel him pressed against my back for a few seconds.
Then the feeling disappeared.
Strange?
Next Wednesday, I have an even stranger ghost story for you.
So what about you? Do you believe in ghosts?
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