17 People Share Ghost Encounters

User provided.noknockers.:

My grandma called us late. She said her brother had just visited. I knocked. She got up, answered, and waved him off as he left.

We told her it was a dream. Everything was fine. Her brother was healthy. The next morning, we got the call. He died that night, around 11:13 pm, if I recall.

User provided.Nihl.:

I never saw a ghost. I rented a haunted house for a year, unexpectedly. It was an old house built in the early 1800s. The rent was fair, and it was near a bar we frequented. When we moved in, a couple rented the first floor; we occupied the second.

My roommate and I noticed strange things. Some I could explain, others I could not. A door that stayed open for weeks would slam shut as you entered the next room. Some items flew off the mantle, not falling gently, but a few feet off the shelf sometimes. My roommate's computer would start loading Rainbow Six in the middle of the night, though I found no scheduled task for it. His clock radio played the radio at random times during the night.

My roommate worked nights, so I was alone. Each night, I went to bed, lay there, and felt someone standing in the doorway watching me. It wasn't anger; just the feeling that someone was definitely there. I kept closing my eyes, feeling watched, opening them, and looking at the doorway again and again.

Things seemed to increase after changes in the house. Soon after moving in, the couple downstairs broke up. Things happened more often while she moved out. Six months later, the boyfriend moved out, a new couple moved in, and the activity picked up again. My wife would not enter the house if I was not home; I often found her waiting for me on the front steps. One night, we blew a fuse (an old screw in the fuses!). I was home alone and had to go down and change it. The basement had a dirt floor. Down there, I thought, this is from every horror movie!

User provided.evilarts.:

My mom lives in this old, 1800s-era house. There are surely drafts and loose boards. I was alone upstairs when I heard a loud noise. I went downstairs to the basement and found the Sam's Club-sized bottle of powdered detergent hurled from next to the washing machine into the far wall. That was a huge mess to clean.

User provided.Dslashdx.:

I fell in love with an amazing girl. We moved in together after two months of dating. I moved in because her rent was cheap in Santa Barbara. Before I moved in, she told me, "I don't want to freak you out, but my house is haunted." As the rational, scientific guy I was, I said, "Sure, whatever you say." I believed none of it. I still don't expect people to believe this story today.

This house was an old shotgun style. Peeling paint covered the outside. Forty-year-old plaster and lath filled the inside. Morning glory vines covered one whole exterior wall. They grew through windows and cracks. One vine found a cupboard, wrapped around an old martini glass, lifted it slightly, and suspended it in the air.

The lease, under an old roommate's name, expired five years ago. The landlord had not been there much longer. Someone built an illegal addition onto the back of the house at some point.

I fell in love with the house right away.

The story she shared, which she researched at the library with others, goes like this: When Spanish settlers executed a Native American, they hung the body from a tree. After the person died, they cut the rope and buried the body where it fell. The Native Americans called that spot 'The Place Where the White Oaks Grow.' This became my new backyard. Digging deeper than six feet was illegal. It was an 'Indian Burial Ground.'

One day, I sat alone on the floor in our room, working on my computer. I reached into my pocket for my smokes. Before I put one in my mouth, I felt something bounce off my knee. My lighter, sitting three feet away on my turntables, was now on the floor next to me.

Another time, I read on our bed and heard something under it. I felt scared but still curious. I looked over the bed edge. An empty wine bottle rolled out from underneath, then back, and again.

I stood at my mixer, playing records. Suddenly, something grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled it hard. The front of my shirt pressed against my Adam's apple for a moment, then the tension stopped. My heart pounded; adrenaline surged like Niagara Falls. I spun around, fists up instinctively, finding nothing. I leaned against the wall to calm down, but it happened again. A quick jerk of my shirt's hem, but this time, there was a plaster wall behind me.

Things happened, but this post is long enough. I never felt threatened. My rational mind faced a challenge I never thought possible. I have no explanation for that house or what happened, and I don't think I ever will.

From adeleted Reddit user:

I slept in my bed one night. I heard a dragging sound on the carpet next to the bed. It sounded like someone slowly dragging a foot across the carpet for a few seconds. I thought nothing of it and stayed there. Then I heard it again. It was distinct; it was not my imagination. I sat up, seeing nothing in the dark. I thought, 'If that happens again, I'm out of here.' It happened.KKSSHHHHHT, right next to me. I moved to the couch and refused to sleep alone in my bedroom for about five months. I got over it a couple of months ago. Who knows.

From usereyemyth:

I was at a friend's house. His stepfather was in the hospital. We finished watching a movie about the Holocaust and talked about it in his living room. Then a blood-freezing moan of despair came from the next room. We stared at each other, asking, 'What in god's name was that?' We both thought maybe his mom heard about his stepfather's death. He went to check on her, but she slept in her daughter's room on the other side of the house. No one was on that side.

From usersohowlongcanmynamebe:

I slept on a friend's couch. Someone sat down behind me and started rubbing my back. I rolled over to tell him I was not his wife and nobody was there.

From usermorally_inept:

I was probably seven and shared a room with my two brothers when I saw something. I woke up in the middle of the night. I saw a small bar of light dancing on the heater in the room. I was terrified and tried to wake my brothers. Being on the top bunk and too scared to move, I failed. Then something said my name, and I almost lost my temper. It vanished. Minutes later, my mom started screaming that there was something in her room.

From useravnerd:

On Thanksgiving years ago, we planned to eat at my cousin's house. I had a turkey and dressing ready, but I had other baking to do. So, I took the turkey to their house to roast. I arrived early in the morning, and my cousin's husband let me into the front door.

Their house looked old but got a fix. A hallway led from the front door to the kitchen. A door to a small bathroom sat in the hallway. The bathroom door opened into the hallway. My cousin's husband walked ahead to close the bathroom door. He stepped into the bathroom and shut the door so I could keep going into the kitchen with the heavy roasting pan holding the turkey.

Passing the now-closed bathroom door, I felt a strong energy move through the hallway, like a hard wind. It also moved through me. I took a couple more steps toward the kitchen. A very large man stormed by me, walked through the kitchen gruffly, and went through the swinging door into the side dining room.

Just then, my cousin's husband popped out of the bathroom and entered the kitchen. I stood there, still holding the turkey. I asked him, 'Did you see that?' Then I looked at the still swinging door. He, a very aggressive New Yorker, looked me in the eye and said, 'I don't want to talk about it!' Then he turned and went upstairs.

I put the turkey pan down and went into the dining room. No one was there.

userNihl.:

Last year, my brother and his family moved back from the West Coast. They stayed with my parents for a few months before finding their own house. Each year, my parents host a big family party on Christmas Eve. This past year, my 33-year-old cousin went to my parents' room to take off his and his wife's coat from my parents' bed. He said he walked into the room and saw an old guy standing next to the bed. He said the guy wore a red plaid shirt, dirty overalls, and had a full white beard. My cousin was confused but thought maybe he was a neighbor or someone my parents invited. I was there when he came down and asked my mom who the guy in their room was. My mom thought he was acting tough then forgot about it.

My parents started thinking back. A few weeks before they heard a loud bang in the house. They searched everywhere, looking for a tipped shelf or anything, but found nothing out of place. A few minutes after they stopped, they heard it again, around nine at night. A few weeks later, my five-year-old nephew suddenly told my mom, 'You have a ghost, you know. He has a white face.' My mom tried to act cool, but it scared her since my nephews lived there then. A few weeks later, he said, 'Your ghost is gone now grandma,' and they have had no other experiences since.

userAnutensil.

I woke up startled a few years ago by a ghost standing by my bed while I slept on a sunny afternoon. Others were downstairs on the deck having a barbecue.

He wore a dark cloak and hood, head bowed. He appeared to hold a small book. Other visitors saw him many times, but I never saw him again. My mother later admitted a similar figure appeared in her bedroom, just below this room, within one month of her living in the house (which she built). He held nothing in his hands, though he held them out. He wore a black tri-cornered hat.

His hands stay in front of him; he usually holds something. He also appeared twice as a woman, wearing something like a wedding veil and holding flowers.

I researched the land's history. A French trading post existed about 90 miles away in the 1700s. You can still see the remnants of an old railroad track foundation in front of this house, which existed before the lake formed.

user avnerd:

"The first memorable one happened at a family friend's house. She moved to our town and invited me for tea in her kitchen. We sat at a small table and talked. She left, and I sat alone. I looked to the stove and saw a man hanging by his neck. I did not feel scared, but I was not scared. When I looked again, he was gone. When my friend returned, I told her, 'I don't know if this matters, but I just saw a man hanging by his neck over there,' pointing toward the stove. She turned white and said, 'You don't know this because we didn't tell anyone, but our roommate hung himself in our basement two months ago.'"

That is when I got goosebumps.

user undeuxtroiskid:

"My family bought a used car. It had random stuff, nothing strange, just normal trunk items. One item was a nearly full bottle of cologne. I never wear cologne, but my mother told me to keep it for some reason, so I did."

Flash forward to the end of tenth grade. That day, we were due to turn in schoolbooks. I had a psychology class with three books, but we mainly used one, which I planned to return that day. I sat at my bed's foot, getting ready for school. Out of my eye, I saw the cologne bottle tip, then I looked back up. I immediately snapped my head to see the cologne bottle standing on top of my other psychology books that I was supposed to return.

user andaru

I am a skeptic and atheist. After my mother died, I needed to explore weird ideas. So, I took a 'new age' course to unlock the mind's powers. I committed to debunking and disbelieving anything strange. This kept me from letting other people influence me.

It began simply. Thought exercises helped me relax, recall forgotten things, or solve problems. On day two, things changed. We started learning about each other's minds. We focused on a random person in the room, trying to get images of their life and then describe them to everyone.

I focused on a girl. I 'got' an image: a small town with mountains in the distance, a bakery, an apartment with a terrace, and a dog jumping. I thought my imagination made this up. So, I shared some of it and asked the girl to add details.

The conversation went like this:

Me: I saw a small town near some mountains, and a shop on the corner...

She: A bakery?

Me: Maybe...

She: That was my grandfather's bakery. I visited him sometimes.

Me: I also saw an apartment nearby, with a terrace...

She said, "Wow, that was his home!"

Me asked, "Did he have a dog? A black and white dog?"

She confirmed, "Yes! He died jumping from the terrace..."

This freaked me out.

From user ckdCosmo4805:

I was at camp in the Adirondack Mountains (way upstate New York), sleeping on a tarp on the beach of an island in Lowe's Lake. My troop went to this lake for the meteor shower that night. Looking up, we saw an orange star moving at 90-degree angles. No satellite, plane, or helicopter does that. Crazy.

From a deleted Reddit user:

A friend and I walked through a field. Two schools bordered the field: one to the left, which had a field behind it for hundreds of yards, and one in front. Both schools were old, built around the turn of the 20th century or earlier. The one ahead was abandoned. While passing through, we heard a loud, echoing sound of prepubescent, girlie laughter from our left. We bolted, scared.

Things to consider: It was late, past 10 PM. It was the middle of summer, so school was closed. We were far from the school, yet we still heard it. The sound did not come from speakers or a megaphone; it had an echoing, airy quality.

From user MikeLinPA:

I am the youngest of five, the only boy. My next sister is two years older, and we were very close as kids. We walked hand in hand, and she translated my baby talk for our parents. She was my 'little mommy.' We remain very close.

I often hurt myself—klutziness, car accidents, cuts, falls—and sometimes she felt it. Not always, but sometimes she called asking if I was okay, or asked about it the next time we met. Sometimes her pain matched an injury I had.

When I give blood or get blood drawn, the techs always use the same vein on the same arm. I ask them to use the left arm so my right arm doesn't hurt, but they state the veins are poor there, so they use the same spot on the right arm. This makes using the mouse painful because my elbow aches. One day, for no reason, that spot on my arm hurt. It felt like an IV needle in my arm, the big one for blood donation. Rubbing it did nothing. I felt that needle in my arm. It hurt like that for three days without any reason I could find, and nothing helped.

A few days later, I visited my sister. I asked if she had given blood that week. She stopped, stared at me for a minute, and asked why. I explained the phantom pain. She then told me her daughter, my niece, had just driven back to college, and I missed her by a few hours. She had blood drawn that week, and the tech messed up the vein badly. Her arm was purple from shoulder to wrist on the inside, and she was very sore from it.

I do not know why this happens sometimes, or never, or if it is just coincidence. It lacks consistency for testing or validation, and I have no rhyme or reason for it. But sometimes she feels my pain, and once, I felt my niece's pain.