My ghost story.
breakinporcelan asked about people's paranormal experiences, and I kinda wanted to talk about mine since I don't think I've ever gone into much depth on it before. Well, it got long, so it moved from a comment to an entry.
My old apartment in Kent is probably my top "paranormal experience." It was an old, run-down apartment building that had been remodeled dozens of times, and was connected to an old house through another remodeled apartment.
I don't necessarily believe in ghosts, but that place was definitely freaking haunted.
I knew most of the people who had lived in all the apartments for the past decade. I started hearing stories before I even moved in there, so many that me and a friend actually went to the records office to try and disprove (or prove) the stories. The entire lot had always been sold as a set. The building I wound up living in was an old grocery store built in 1906, while the house that it was connected to was listed in the records office as "Year built: Old."
Not long after we researched the shit out of that place (the land had once been owned by the Haymakers, one of the founding families of Kent, and also owned pretty much half of the town), one of the apartments opened up and my friend (the one I'd been researching with) and I wound up moving into it.
Soon after we moved in my roommate and I kept having things go missing. At first we blamed the cats, but the things that went missing and where we found them were too strange and often impossible for the cats: books under the sink (what), venus fly-trap (which the cats HATED) under my roommate's bed, my keys in the drawer of my desk (I always left them in my purse). We started blaming a ghost, mostly as a joke because of what we'd researched, and then one day my roommate's glasses went missing. She yelled at the ghost, saying that it wasn't cute or funny anymore, and five minutes later we found her glasses on her bed, where they definitely hadn't been when we were in her room looking for them earlier.
My roommate and I were never really freaked out by the ghost. I actually kind of liked him. (And yes, I know it was a dude, and I'll explain why later, along with why I liked him.) He seemed to just like playing pranks. I'd come home and find the faucet on, or find my window open. It was little, harmless things, so we just accepted that we had a third, invisible roommate that just didn't pay rent.
I started thinking I was hearing things, hallucinating, or was just nodding off and half-dreaming. I kept hearing my roommate's cell phone go off, hear her answer it, and hear her start talking on it. Ten minutes later, I'd hear her come home from work or school and realize that she hadn't been there when I'd heard her on the phone. After a few months of this, I finally shared this with my roommate and she said she'd been hearing my phone go off, hear me answer and start talking on it - always when I wasn't there.
This ghost was apparently very fond of impersonating me, especially. It wasn't just my voice, either - either my roommate or some friends who came over would actually see me in places that I wasn't. One friend saw me at the kitchen sink before she went into the bathroom, and when she got into the bathroom she could hear me talking out on the porch through the window. (The real me was the one on the porch.) Another friend saw me looking at CDs in the living room, and then went outside and saw me talking on my phone in the parking lot. (The real me was in the parking lot.) My roommate said I unlocked the rear door for her when she locked herself out, but I was in a completely different part of the state at the time.
I came down with the flu when I was at work one day. I puked when I was still at work, drove home, barreled through the door and puked again, and then collapsed in my bed. A few hours later, somebody woke me up by physically shaking me, and I heard a man's voice saying, "you've got to get up right now." When I finally sat up, they said, "Go to the bathroom. Go to the bathroom. Krissy, get to the bathroom right now." I stumbled into the bathroom and pretty much tried to go back to sleep on the floor. Somebody shook me again, and I heard the man say "Sit up. You've got to sit up and puke. You'll feel better." I really did not want to move, and I shook my head. The guy kept repeating, "You've got to sit up. You'll feel better. You've got to." I finally pulled myself up to the toilet and went to puke again, and I felt somebody holding my hair back. When I stood up, I definitely did feel better, and I was about to go back to bed when I heard the guy's voice again: "Get some ice first." I grabbed an ice cube tray and went back to bed.
I woke up a few hours later soaking wet and my roommate asking me why I was asleep with the ice cube tray on my chest.
She wound up getting sick that same day (definitely of the same thing), and our neighbors had band practice. We were both so sick that neither of us could get up and ask them to cancel practice that day.
I was burning up really freaking bad, and I started hallucinating. (In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the hospital, but I didn't realize how bad it was until I got better.) I watched the music dance on the ceiling, I thought my bed had turned into a boat and was rocking back and forth, and I thought I had extra limbs. (Don't ask. It's a weird, weird feeling to think you have three arms and four legs.) It was a pretty rough night, but every once in a while I felt someone grab my hand, I would cool down, and my bed turned back into a bed and I again only had two arms and two legs. Whoever it was would eventually leave, but they came back whenever it started getting really bad again.
I never asked my roommate, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if whenever he wasn't with me he was with her.
So yes. I liked him. He was full of mischief, but I am fully convinced that he helped me.
I moved out of the apartment when I moved up to Cleveland, and another friend of mine moved into my old room. My original roommate moved out about two years ago. My other friend only moved out a few months ago, but the reason she moved out is because the building was being knocked down. It was tied up in City Council bureaucracy for months before the decision was made to demolish it (and all the neighboring buildings) to make way for a gas station and a project to remodel the bridge across the street from it.
She said after the decision had been made, the last few months were hard: she felt like someone was watching her, and she kept hearing loud bangs and occasionally crying. She was the last one to leave the apartment complex, and when she was packing there were times that she just had to leave because she felt like something was going to kill her.
They knocked the building down just before Christmas this year.
Some friends who had lived there and I idly wondered how many pet graves had been disturbed (there were a plethora of cat graves due to a problem with strays around the lot), but I also wonder about that ghost. It clearly was his place, and he definitely knew what was happening in the end.
A lot of it can be chalked up to coincidence, I guess. If I hallucinated this guy when I was burning up with a fever, then he was the best hallucination ever. I kind of wonder if he moved on when the place was knocked down.
On the other hand, it would be hilarious if he winds up haunting the gas station.
My old apartment in Kent is probably my top "paranormal experience." It was an old, run-down apartment building that had been remodeled dozens of times, and was connected to an old house through another remodeled apartment.
I don't necessarily believe in ghosts, but that place was definitely freaking haunted.
I knew most of the people who had lived in all the apartments for the past decade. I started hearing stories before I even moved in there, so many that me and a friend actually went to the records office to try and disprove (or prove) the stories. The entire lot had always been sold as a set. The building I wound up living in was an old grocery store built in 1906, while the house that it was connected to was listed in the records office as "Year built: Old."
Not long after we researched the shit out of that place (the land had once been owned by the Haymakers, one of the founding families of Kent, and also owned pretty much half of the town), one of the apartments opened up and my friend (the one I'd been researching with) and I wound up moving into it.
Soon after we moved in my roommate and I kept having things go missing. At first we blamed the cats, but the things that went missing and where we found them were too strange and often impossible for the cats: books under the sink (what), venus fly-trap (which the cats HATED) under my roommate's bed, my keys in the drawer of my desk (I always left them in my purse). We started blaming a ghost, mostly as a joke because of what we'd researched, and then one day my roommate's glasses went missing. She yelled at the ghost, saying that it wasn't cute or funny anymore, and five minutes later we found her glasses on her bed, where they definitely hadn't been when we were in her room looking for them earlier.
My roommate and I were never really freaked out by the ghost. I actually kind of liked him. (And yes, I know it was a dude, and I'll explain why later, along with why I liked him.) He seemed to just like playing pranks. I'd come home and find the faucet on, or find my window open. It was little, harmless things, so we just accepted that we had a third, invisible roommate that just didn't pay rent.
I started thinking I was hearing things, hallucinating, or was just nodding off and half-dreaming. I kept hearing my roommate's cell phone go off, hear her answer it, and hear her start talking on it. Ten minutes later, I'd hear her come home from work or school and realize that she hadn't been there when I'd heard her on the phone. After a few months of this, I finally shared this with my roommate and she said she'd been hearing my phone go off, hear me answer and start talking on it - always when I wasn't there.
This ghost was apparently very fond of impersonating me, especially. It wasn't just my voice, either - either my roommate or some friends who came over would actually see me in places that I wasn't. One friend saw me at the kitchen sink before she went into the bathroom, and when she got into the bathroom she could hear me talking out on the porch through the window. (The real me was the one on the porch.) Another friend saw me looking at CDs in the living room, and then went outside and saw me talking on my phone in the parking lot. (The real me was in the parking lot.) My roommate said I unlocked the rear door for her when she locked herself out, but I was in a completely different part of the state at the time.
I came down with the flu when I was at work one day. I puked when I was still at work, drove home, barreled through the door and puked again, and then collapsed in my bed. A few hours later, somebody woke me up by physically shaking me, and I heard a man's voice saying, "you've got to get up right now." When I finally sat up, they said, "Go to the bathroom. Go to the bathroom. Krissy, get to the bathroom right now." I stumbled into the bathroom and pretty much tried to go back to sleep on the floor. Somebody shook me again, and I heard the man say "Sit up. You've got to sit up and puke. You'll feel better." I really did not want to move, and I shook my head. The guy kept repeating, "You've got to sit up. You'll feel better. You've got to." I finally pulled myself up to the toilet and went to puke again, and I felt somebody holding my hair back. When I stood up, I definitely did feel better, and I was about to go back to bed when I heard the guy's voice again: "Get some ice first." I grabbed an ice cube tray and went back to bed.
I woke up a few hours later soaking wet and my roommate asking me why I was asleep with the ice cube tray on my chest.
She wound up getting sick that same day (definitely of the same thing), and our neighbors had band practice. We were both so sick that neither of us could get up and ask them to cancel practice that day.
I was burning up really freaking bad, and I started hallucinating. (In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the hospital, but I didn't realize how bad it was until I got better.) I watched the music dance on the ceiling, I thought my bed had turned into a boat and was rocking back and forth, and I thought I had extra limbs. (Don't ask. It's a weird, weird feeling to think you have three arms and four legs.) It was a pretty rough night, but every once in a while I felt someone grab my hand, I would cool down, and my bed turned back into a bed and I again only had two arms and two legs. Whoever it was would eventually leave, but they came back whenever it started getting really bad again.
I never asked my roommate, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if whenever he wasn't with me he was with her.
So yes. I liked him. He was full of mischief, but I am fully convinced that he helped me.
I moved out of the apartment when I moved up to Cleveland, and another friend of mine moved into my old room. My original roommate moved out about two years ago. My other friend only moved out a few months ago, but the reason she moved out is because the building was being knocked down. It was tied up in City Council bureaucracy for months before the decision was made to demolish it (and all the neighboring buildings) to make way for a gas station and a project to remodel the bridge across the street from it.
She said after the decision had been made, the last few months were hard: she felt like someone was watching her, and she kept hearing loud bangs and occasionally crying. She was the last one to leave the apartment complex, and when she was packing there were times that she just had to leave because she felt like something was going to kill her.
They knocked the building down just before Christmas this year.
Some friends who had lived there and I idly wondered how many pet graves had been disturbed (there were a plethora of cat graves due to a problem with strays around the lot), but I also wonder about that ghost. It clearly was his place, and he definitely knew what was happening in the end.
A lot of it can be chalked up to coincidence, I guess. If I hallucinated this guy when I was burning up with a fever, then he was the best hallucination ever. I kind of wonder if he moved on when the place was knocked down.
On the other hand, it would be hilarious if he winds up haunting the gas station.