Paranormal Activity - Your Ghost Stories. I just wanted to share some things that have been going on my house with people that I knew would appreciate it. Before I start let me give you some background info. My family and I live in a very Historic Town in Central Virginia called Fredericksburg. It's really big on all of the civil war battles that happened in this area.
We have lived here for over 1. I believe that most of what goes on is due to poltergeist activity and not actual haunting's, but we have seen apparitions from time to time. Also, the people who owned the house before us, (the first owners) fought all the time and eventually got divorced, they left a lot of negative energy behind them when they left. Well, I have 1. 0 years worth of experiences, but I'll try to highlight the main ones. When we first moved in my dog refused to go in the basement, she barks and growls at the basement door at random times. One day when she was doing this, we heard a huge bang down there, it sounded like someone was throwing all of our unpacked boxes around, but when we went to investigate everything was as it should be. My dog won't go down there unless we make her, she terrified of it.
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The scary part about my dog barking is she's an Australian bark less dog, she never ever barks! My mom is very musical, and she has a lot of instruments on our first floor. We hear her playing a lot when she isn't home. We've chalked it up to the walls releasing noise that they have absorbed but NEVER does it when she is around. Also the toilet in her bedroom will flush by itself when no one is up there.
Now comes the really creepy stuff.. Our first floor is very open with the kitchen dining room and rec room just flowing into one another. One night we were watching TV and 2 lamps that hang on the wall in our breakfast nook flew off the wall.
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They didn't fall, it as if they were thrown, the cords were even yanked out of the wall. No one was in the kitchen but several people saw it happen.
One night a few months ago we were woken up in the middle of the night by all of our fire alarms going off. There was no fire, and the alarms we had didn't have a Carbon Monoxide tester. The batteries didn't need to be replaced either. After unhooking all of them from the wall and removing the batteries the alarms were still going strong. We had to wrap them in blankets and hide them in a closet in our basement so that we could go back to sleep. My sister has seen a man in grey coat with only one arm walk through our backyard and then vanish at the property line, and when my nephew was 2, we were all in the back yard and he asked us why there was a man buried back there.
When we asked him more questions about it he refused to answer, and started playing again. One time when I was about 1. I were in the foyer fighting, full out screaming at each other, I don't even remember what it was about now. The chandelier above us started swinging back and forth really hard and 2 bulbs burst.
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I have felt and seen an oppressive black shadowy figure in my room. I could move and speak when I saw it, but it frightened me so much that I didn't sleep in there until I put up protective measures. One if those measures I read about a while ago: You get glass orbs and paint the inside silver while whispering blessings over it. You then hang the orbs by every entrance to your room or home and they block out evil spirits.
This actually worked until about a year ago.. I felt the presence again and had to sleep on the couch, the next day when I went into my room the mounting and wires for the orbs were there but all of the orbs were missing. I never found them, they were just gone. I haven't been able to sleep in there much since, I stay at my boyfriend's or I sleep on the couch.
The few times that I have stayed in there I have been plagued by horrible nightmares. The only part that frightens me is the thing in my room. I will be completely awake when I see him.
For some reason I keep wanting to call it 'him.' I don't know if most of this is poltergeist activity that my mom, my sisters, and I have created with our own energy but I know some of it we can't possibly be doing. The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by yourghoststories. Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, jwhitfi, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion. To publish a comment or vote, you need to be logged in (use the login form at the top of the page). If you don't have an account, sign up, it's free!© The ghost story Paranormal Activity is copyrighted to jwhitfi.
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Real- Life Ghost Story: A Hand on the Mirror. On Sunday, May 8, 2. That was when I discovered a handprint on the bathroom mirror in my home. The day it appeared was the first anniversary of the death of my husband, Max Besler.
We had been married for four years when he was found, at the age of 5. Six months later, he was gone, devastating me and my 1. Tanner. In his final two months, Max spent a lot of time during the day with our friend and housekeeper, Helen. He insisted that I continue working—I was the publisher of the Sacramento Bee—so I went to the office and drove home at lunch for visits.
One day, Helen and Max were in the kitchen. The sun was shining outside—until it suddenly poured. We both just stopped and looked,” Helen recalled. I told him, ‘I know you don’t believe in God, but this is something God created for us today. After you’re gone, if you can find a way, let us know that there’s something out there, that it just doesn’t end.’”Max agreed he’d try. But it will be up to you two to see it,” he said.
The Hand Appears. A year after Max’s death, Tanner and I were still working through our grief. On this Sunday afternoon, he and I were sitting at a table in our yard in Sacramento, California. I was comforted to have him there, and I smiled as I noted his habit of moving his lips while he read.
I was catching up on reading from work. After a while, I got up to go inside and bring us a snack. Our home was U- shaped, and on the right side of the U were our kitchen, a guest bedroom suite, a laundry room, and the exit to the garage. Max had spent the last month of his life in the guest room because he was more comfortable in a bed by himself, as he was in grave pain. Before entering the kitchen, I stopped in the bathroom in the guest suite.
That was when I saw the handprint. It hadn’t been there when I’d gone in an hour earlier. I froze. Had someone played a trick? That was doubtful—Tanner and I would have seen or heard anyone. I shouted, “Tanner, come here.
Hurry!”“Mom, what’s wrong? Are you OK?” he asked, running over.“Look,” I cried. You didn’t do this, did you?”As I spoke, I knew that Tanner couldn’t have made it, because he’d been next to me the entire time. Still, I asked him to hold his hand up next to it.
It was much larger than his and shaped differently. It was no ordinary handprint.
Seemingly made of a soft, white, powdery substance, it showed the entire bone structure, as if it were an X- ray. Like most wives, I could recall precisely what my husband’s hands looked like. The wide palm with the long, narrow fingers was reminiscent of the shape of Max’s hands. The clock had stopped at 1. Max’s death. Content continues below ad. We stared at the print, speechless and awestruck. We knew we were witnessing something astounding.“Mom, I don’t get it.
What is that?” Tanner asked.“I’m not sure what it is, Tanner.” Then I asked him, “Do you think there’s any relationship to Max, since it’s the first anniversary of his death?”“Maybe, but how weird is that? And how could he make it happen if he’s gone, Mom?” Tanner asked. I had no answer, only a sense that I needed to remain calm and inquisitive.
I guess for now we don’t know. Why don’t you go out to the driveway and shoot some baskets?”I hugged him and said I’d join him in a few minutes. I grabbed my camera and took several photographs. I should have done more, like taken a sample of the powdery substance for analysis or asked a forensics specialist to examine the fingerprints. But I was so stunned that it didn’t occur to me.
Was Max visiting to let me know there was more? I’ve always been open in life, and I wanted to be open now. But I was scared too.
Entering the unknown was intimidating. Time Stands Still. This wasn’t the first unusual occurrence.
Max died in our living room at 1. Saturday in May 2. In the backyard beneath the overhang of the roof just outside the door were two heavy wind chimes that he and I had hung. Both were sizable—one produced a deep musical sound, while the other one reminded me of the gong of a buoy at sea. I thought it was fitting that they both rang the instant that Max died, filling the house with rich, melodious tones. As a group, we stopped to listen. And as we turned our heads to watch the chimes, we noticed something peculiar: There was no wind.
Then, one week later, I took Casey, our yellow Lab, for a walk. It was Saturday around 7 a. Tanner was asleep.
I returned an hour later, and as I was unhooking Casey’s leash, I glanced up at the large, round clock over the fireplace in the living room. The clock had stopped at 1. Max’s death. At first, I didn’t process it. I thought, Time to get Tanner up for breakfast. Then it sank in. How could the clock show the time of Max’s death instead of eight o’clock, the proper time? I walked to Tanner’s room.
Wake up. Wake up. You’re not going to believe what I just saw,” I told him. He stumbled sleepily down the hallway with me to the living room.
The Man in the Grey Suit and Other.. Ghost Stories? October 9, 2. Published by justin. By Autumn Mentink, Blennerhassett Hotel staff member. The Blennerhassett Hotel is said to be haunted. The Blennerhassett, like any old building, has a few ghost stories.
I’m not sure why. Possibly it is only natural a building more than a century old has picked up a few ghosts. Chief among these wandering spirits is an older gentleman in an old- fashioned, three- piece grey suit.
Staff who have seen him describe him as having slicked back hair and a beard; sometimes he has a top hat and cane as well. He appears quite solid, though he has a bad habit of vanishing in the blink of an eye. He’s believed to be the ghost of William Chancellor, the man who built the hotel.
He’s rather a mellow sort of spirit, much more inclined to be smoking a quiet cigar somewhere than disturbing guests. Often, in the library and on the second floor, cigar smoke is all that is seen of him.
Also on the second floor, ghostly children are said to play tag in the halls. One bellman admitted to having seen, out of the corner of his eye, what looked like a little girl in a fancy dress disappear around a corner. Another admits to hearing a whistling noise on more than one occasion, as though someone were trying to get his attention. But when he checked, no one was there.
Another child, this one described as a “turn- of- the- century newspaper boy,” haunts the kitchen, tugging at the sleeves of the cooks, or hanging around on the lower level in front of the elevators. Perhaps he’s a member of the group on the second floor who just wanders off occasionally, or perhaps he just prefers to pester the living. Speaking of pesky spirits, a particularly mischievous one, called “The 4 O’clock Knocker,” is said to knock on the door that leads to the coffee bar at the unreasonable hour of 4 a. Don’t try to set your watch by this ghost, though. Months will go by where nothing is heard or the ghost will knock at other, stranger hours— like, say, 2: 1. If knocking, cigar smoke, and children aren’t enough, there’s a party in the Charleston Ballroom that has no interest in ending. One staff member, working late, once heard music and laughter from the Charleston, but when they reached the ballroom, it was empty and quiet. But at least one member of this long- ago fête is said to still be hanging about— a man in a white tuxedo occasionally appears in the hotel’s mirrors, several of which hang in the hallway that passes by the Charleston. One more note: a great deal of stories report our elevators as haunted as well.
Though we’ll admit that they do stop at random floors and open their doors without provocation, this is because they’re old, slow, and easily confused. People tend to give up on waiting for them and take the stairs. Event Job Meeting Planner. Then again, perhaps one of our resident haunts, who have all the time in the world to wait for an elevator, is using them instead. Have you ever seen one of the Blennerhassett’s spirits?
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