Submitted By : Anonymous
Well this isn’t something I talk about with just anyone. I didn’t realize that not everyone can do what I can until I was about 10 or so years old. I just thought everyone could see and hear too. Turns out, nope. They can’t and I was considered a bit odd and crazy for even talking about it.
I have always had “ghosts” around me. I attract them. I hear them a lot, and in every language. Some times they get too loud and I can’t sleep, so I have to sleep with a fan all year round. Try explaining that one to the hubby when he is freezing his butt off. “Sorry dear. I can’t turn off the fan. The spirits are loud tonight.”
I hear a lot of singing, I can sense “angels” and the invisible energies that bring in life and take it out. I can tell when Death is there to claim someone. The death angels know that I know, and there is a mutual respect. (I guess)
Being in the medical field, the people who pass in my care, have messages they want me to give their families, but come one. Would you want to be at the hospital when your dad died, and some person comes out and says, oh he told me to tell you Blah blah. Nope. That doesn’t go over well.
The ones that come to me in dreams, the newbies, show me how they have died. It isn’t surprising anymore to dream of a bad wreck only to find out that someone I talked to a few days before died in the wreck, and I was dreaming it and they were showing it to me as it happened. I have several of these instances, and witensses to them. The last being a little boy. His mother and I met 2 days before he died. Only in passing.
We had a mutual friend. So, 2 days later, I dream of wet pavement. Glittering glass flashing blue and red, sounds of sirens, people talking in muffled tones, and I was laying on my side. When I looked around me, I was holding a small boy.
He had massive head injuries. He couldn’t have been more than 8 years old. It was the son of the woman I had just met. He was showing me, as it was happening, that he had died. He wasn’t angry, or sad. He felt peaceful. I told my hubby as soon as I woke up. A few hours later, the mutual friend called to let me know what had happened.
The father had been coming home late from a friends house, and fell asleep while driving his red, extend cab truck. The boy had been asleep on the back seat. The truck rolled, and the little boy had struck his head and died instantly.
We have a little girl ghost in this house. She died here a long time ago – about the early 1900′s, from colera. I was telling my friend about her, and her odd name. Mary Adelia. At first, it was confusing. I wasn’t sure if her name was Mary or Adelia. She kept telling me her mother was named Mary. I didn’t catch on right away. When we got the title and owner history on the house, I found that a Mary and her husband had owned the house, along with 8 children.
One was named Mary Adelia. Which would then answer why she went by 2 names. She was called by her middle name to avoid confusion. I wasn’t surprised to find this name in the history. My friend was.
There is an angry spirit in our cemetery that will jam your camera if you try to take pictures of his grave. Usually, they look for people who will make them feel – well, not so much alive, but give them recognition that they crave. They like to have their presence known and be talked to. Some, not all. Some are just onery.
Great places to take pictures is at auto junk yards. I hear the Alamo and other sites where bloody battles ave occured, are a great place to find some too. Old houses. Hospitals. Funeral homes too.
I don’t know if Adelia would let me take a picture of her or not. She isn’t shy – she is actually quite onery by hiding stuff or moving things around. She turns on the faucet in the bathroom alot. She loves to do that when my daughter is in the bathroom, because it always startles her.
Especially first thing in the morning, when she is still half asleep. My son plays with her a lot and so does the cat and dog. She loves to play with my son the most though, and he will entertain himself for quite awhile just chattering away to the wall or ceiling – or talking to Adelia.

Submitted by : Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc
“My name is Andy and this is a true account of one
Halloween at a store I worked at, a Halloween I will
never forget.
I have always loved Halloween and was so happy when I
got a job working at a very large costume/Halloween
shop one year ago. The hours were long, the customers
not always pleasant and the pay was trivial, but boy
was it fun!
As Halloween approached many of the “return” employees
started talking about the “presences” in the building.
I listened with keen interest as I am an empath (one
of the real deal, not some fake that says I am, for
the attention) and had felt some very scary things in
the back room where all the “overflow” and damaged
merchandise was stashed.
The building had at one time
been a furniture store and so it was not only
monstrous in size, it was also two stories. It was so
large that the front of the building was used for the
shop and the back for storage, damages and for the
employees to eat and what not.
The bathroom was there
as well and THAT was when I began to feel the
presences, on my way to the bathroom and to re-fill my
water bottle at the water fountain by the bathroom,
when I went on break.
I loathe being an empath and tried to ignore what I
felt but there was no ignoring it. There was something
there. One room in particular that I called “the
kitchen”…I have no idea why I called it that, as it
looked more like a break or lunch room than an actual
kitchen…however, the name stuck and that was what I
called it…terrified me to no end.
I used to go and
simply stand at the edge of the room, too afraid to go
in. There was *something* in there.
So, as all of the “old timers’ sat and swapped
stories, I confessed my empathic ability and one of
the women I worked with jumped right on it.
Her: “How about this then…what about the back room?”
Me: “It freaks me out.”
Her: “Have you ever been upstairs?”
Me: “No.”
Everyone else in unison: “Take her upstairs!”
So upstairs I went, stopping by the “kitchen” on the
way there to look in. The girl that took me, came
running back down the hallway claiming that she feared
“they had gotten me.”
I followed her to the back room
to a hallway, so far so good and to the end, where
there appeared a flight of stairs. She stood at the
bottom of the stairs. At first I felt nothing. She
looked at me.
“I’m not going up there, no way, It’s your turn!”
So I shrugged and walked up the stairs. It hit me
immediately…there was something, something evil,
something forboding and something terrible up those
stairs. I forced myself up them and when I got close
to the top, I stopped and began shaking violently.
I heard a litte girl’s voice and it was after
hours…there were no children in the store, but I
plainly heard a whispering girl child. “I hear a
child!” I said…”there is a child here, whispering!”
I was terrified and began a slow descent back down.
The girl I was with…when I said I heard a child’s
voice, she ran off leaving me there.
When I got back to the front room, everyone was wide
eyed.
“There’s something there,” I said, something evil.
The girl that went with me smiled and said.
“I counted the stairs that you walked up…you got to
step number ten. NO ONE has ever been able to get past
step ten before they come running back down.”
I was also introduced to a room where Satanic emblems,
items, including a book on worship and animal
sacrifice (so I was told) and evidence of animal
sacrifice had been found. I could get no closer than
five feet to that room. It was terrifying beyond
words.
Now the store has its shop elsewhere and I travel by
that building often, still picturing all of us having
so much fun and wondering if the new occupants have
had any run ins with those who “live” in the back
room, yet…”

Submitted by : Michelle ( The WebMistress )