As Halloween steadily approaches, I figure I’ll share some spooky stories. I’ll start with one of my favorite clown-related stories (since all this nonsense with clowns has been happening in real life, not in haunted houses)
Back in my junior year (I think) of high school, I was drafted for a trip to Ohio to visit a haunted house, well, actually it was five haunted houses all on the same grounds. We had a group of six, and I was there as the +1 for Sarah. We get our little haunted house punch card and start off to the first one, which took place in a carnival looking area of the grounds, with closed off game booths and a wide cement path running down the middle. They let the group in front us in and in a few seconds you hear everyone screaming, although, I mean, we were at a haunted house 5 for 1 deal, so there was screaming everywhere. Finally, it’s our groups turn and we step inside the little gate and immediately I just know what is going to happen, I can feel it in my bones. I take off, like sonic, just running full speed down the middle of the cement path, leaving everyone behind me in a daze of confusion, considering nothing has happened yet. From behind me I hear the first signs, honking. I called it. Clowns swarm out from behind all the closed off game booths and all my friends start screaming, but I, being the self-preservationist that I am, was already too far away for them to chase, so I was abandoned for my friends, who made easier prey. I scooted out the back gate, unscathed, but totally out of breath. Minutes later everyone else tumbled out, yelling at me, saying things like “Why didn’t you say anything?!” And I shrugged like “If we all started running it wouldn’t have worked.”
Needless to say, I’m not quite the best person to have at your side during a haunted house. I am all about saving myself first. Oops. Also, if there are clowns involved, sorry, but consider yourself a sacrifice for my safety.
Another spooky story that I have up my sleeve has to do with the house that I grew up in, which I’m 100% certain is haunted. This claim is validated by my uncle, who bought the house from us, who also told us that it is 100% haunted. Further backed up by my friend whose eyes water when people tell true ghost stories. And even further backed up by the friend I lost in middle school when the ghost flickered the light and pressed it’s hands into the side of the tent that we had set up in the basement. (She never came back over to my house ever again)
The freaky occurrences started when I was young, and I don’t really remember them, but my mom has told me about them. When I was around 4 or 5, I used to get up at night and my mom would find me in various locations around the house, normally in the spare room. (which used to be my nursery when I was a baby) When she asked what I was doing in there, I told her that I was “chasing the girl” through the house until she went through the wall and I couldn’t follow her anymore. Weird, right?
The first real thing I remember is when I was around 9 or 10, probably, and I woke up with a strange feeling. I rolled over in bed and saw a man, whose face I couldn’t see, standing in the doorway of my bedroom. He was wearing a hat and a trench coat, and just standing there, I assume watching me. I closed my eyes, and opened them again, but he was still there. Then I threw a pillow and rolled over to face the wall really fast, holding my breath. When I rolled back over he was gone and I got up, ran into my parents room, which was kiddy corner to mine, and screamed that they needed to search the house because there was a man in my door a moment ago. I probably almost gave them heart attacks, and my dad searched the whole house, but there was no man, no windows or doors had been open, and I never saw him again.
After that, I never saw anything again, but there were always the episodes with foot steps in the hallway at night, doors opening, and unexplainable loud crashes/bangs that sounded like someone pushed a couch down the staircase. Family members that stayed with us for prolonged periods of time were always spooked. (And heard the foot steps in the halls)
My uncle claims that when he moved in after my parents moved out, that the ghost/whatever it was touched him on the back while he was in the kitchen. Which, is a big step farther than anything that happened when we lived there, I never remember being touched by anything before. Although, I totally believe him, I could see that happening. Nothing has happened since I’ve moved though, at least to me, so I’m taking that to mean the house itself was the anchor and not one of my family members. I do still have the old ouija board from the 50’s-60’s though that my mom used only once and vowed to never use again. (Alex refused to put it in the moving truck from Pittsburgh and told me that if I wanted it, I had to drive it down in my car, which I did. Rude. And he says he doesn’t believe in ghosts. Psssshhh.)
Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever had a creepy unexplainable experience? I love ghost stories, so if you have one, I’d love to hear it! Share in the comments!!