My husband and I live in a 100 year old house. It’s always been a little creepy – like hearing people talking in another room and going in and there’s no one there. But, a couple of years ago we had two really good haunting’s that totally convinced me the paranormal is real.

The first thing that happened was when I was sleeping on the living room floor in front of the TV because I hurt my back and was trying to get it to un-kink. I woke up at 4 am and I heard the mantel clock chime four. I’m sure I was awake because I watched TV for a few minutes. I heard my husband walk into the room behind me, pick up the comforter and spoon behind me with his arm thrown over my waist. After a couple of minutes it was like his arm weighed a ton. And he was throwing a LOT of heat. Just about then I heard my husband start snoring – in the bedroom. I was like ahhhh shit, freaking terrified. So I counted to 3 and threw the cover off and ran. Woke him up and we looked there was no one else in the house. I know there was something there though.

The second time we were both asleep in the bedroom at about 4 am again. My husband says he woke up to hear two little girls talking. He could hear that they were playing jacks. He could hear the ball bouncing and the metal sound of the jacks on the wood floors. One of the little girls says to the other one “Watch this!” and she goes “Momma, Momma!” and I sat straight up still asleep and said “What baby?” Once a Mom, always a Mom, right? The little girls laughed because it worked. So he kind of shook me awake and I looked at him then at the doorway where the little girls were. They looked real except their outlines were wavering and they were almost black and white in coloring. They saw us both looking and laughed. Then the older girl grabbed the littler one’s hand and they walked right through the bedroom wall and disappeared.


I can’t say it really fully pushed me over the edge, but it made me (to use a double negative) not NOT believe. I guess I’m…agnostic on it?

I grew up with a Bermese Mountain Dog, anybody that knows them knows they’re already calm gentle giants. Mine never once in his entire life barked or growled at anything. He was calm and stoic.

Until one night he wasn’t. I was about 15, home alone with the dog, and he just…Lost. His. Shit. He looked around the room, let loose a growl that absolutely THUNDERED in his chest, and started barking like mad. He had stood up and was in a threatening pose, his hair all straightened out and laid flat. He was READY to go.

It was pure, pants-shitting terror for what felt like a thousand or so years. Then he just stopped. His hair mussed back up and he padded over, dropped his mouth in the big doggy grin, and licked my face. If it was a demon or something, it didn’t want to fuck with my dog again.


When I was younger my mom used to invite random neighborhood children over for dinner and parties so they could eat.

At my sisters birthday party everyone was outside getting ready to hit the pinata. My father noticed a girl sitting inside staring out the window at us. We have a large window beside front door. He told me to go inside and ask her to come out and join the party.

I ran up the walkway, looking at her through the window as I went towards the door and then as soon as I passed through the doorway, losing sight of her for a few seconds, she was gone. My dad thought she had fallen. (There’s a couch in front of the window so he thought she fell on the couch).

I looked around for her but couldn’t find her so I told my dad. He helped me look for her but still nothing. No one else saw her except me and my dad. My mom said she didn’t recall inviting any girls with our description of her. We forgot about it until some years later though I don’t really know exactly how many.

My dad and I were sitting in the living room watching TV. From my dad’s armchair you can see into the kitchen a little bit. Me and my dad were talking about the show we were watching when he suddenly got quiet. He said my name and motioned for me to come over to him. He told me to look at the microwave. I saw that girl’s reflection in the microwave, exactly the same as before. I ran into the kitchen and my dad followed but again no one was there. We were both pretty spooked so we went out for ice cream until my mom came home.

I thought it was a neighborhood kid playing a prank on us the first time. But seeing her the second time unchanged in our kitchen many years later made me start believing in ghosts.


My wife’s grandmother was watching TV when she saw a little girl, dressed in a school uniform, run across the stairs. She yelled at the girl, whom she thought was her daughter (my wife’s aunt), to come over and say hello before going upstairs to her room, but the little girl didn’t seem to listen and she went upstairs quickly without saying a word.

After about half an hour, her daughter comes through the door, and says hello to her mother, wearing her backpack and school uniform.

Her mother, confused, asks her why she’s still wearing her backpack as she got home about 30 minutes ago from school.

Her daughter tells her that she’s just getting home.

The little girl has lived in that house for a number of years. Plenty of family has seen her, including several other of my wife’s aunts. I’ve been to that house a few times, and got creepy vibes, but never actually saw anything.


When I was 18 living on my own for the first time, I kept waking up and seeing a woman with matted, black hair sitting on my bed and smiling at me. A creepy smile. Not a nice one. She scared the shit out of me. One night I woke up and she was there and slowly held up her hands and they were fucking grotesque. It looked like third degree burns covering them. I was talking to my mom and mentioned it and she just said “weird. She hasn’t been around since you were a kid. Don’t encourage her.”

She shows up every now and again. Sometimes in nightmares. Sometimes when I wake up at night she’s at the foot of the bed being creepy. I’ve had roommates who have seen her too (without me mentioning it to them ever before). I just ignore her.


I have two spooky incidents that happened after my dad died.

First time is that my dad passed away while we were out of the country (it was very unexpected). A couple days before he passed he had issues sending and receiving texts/calls – his phone was always on for business calls/emergencies when we were on vacation/traveling. Several days after we get back home and are planning his funeral with my family. I’m confessing to my them that he embarrassed me at dinner and my last conversation with him was us arguing before he passed and felt horribly guilty. Just as I explained that, I hear my phone go off and see a text from my dad. We had his phone charging in the kitchen so it was already creeping us out that none of us had touched it for the past few days. I opened the text and it said “I love you, love dad”. I obviously lost it and so did my family. My logical mind says that it’s just a text he sent while I was testing his phone the week prior that finally went through but his phone was on and connected for at least 3 days back home and the text came at that exact moment.

A month or so after my dad passed, I was driving to the first family get together since the funeral and I was sort of in a funk that this is the first family outing without my dad. As I’m driving through a rural area, I hear my dad’s voice yell at me to stop. (He taught me to drive and I was very familiar with his panic yells). I slam on my brakes at an intersection with a green light for me and an 18 wheeler comes barreling through the intersection. If I didn’t stop I would have definitely been hit. Once again could be grief and thinking about the times my dad taught me how to drive but still weirds me out to this day. Haven’t had any other weird instances since these and it’s been almost 8 years now.


A few years ago my great-grandmother was in her last few days. My family lives a couple of hours away and I wasn’t really able to get there. I had just seen her a couple of weeks before that and had personally made peace with the inevitable.

One night I had a dream where my great-grandmother and I had a nice, long conversation in the house that she had lived in when I was a young kid. We talked about her life and experiences, my life, and my future. It was the most vivid and lucid dream I’ve ever had.

The next morning, my mother called with the bad news that my great-grandmother had passed during the night, probably about 11 pm. I don’t know at what time I had that dream, but I definitely didn’t go to bed before 11.


Oh god. Okay so I tell this story every time ghost stuff is brought up.

I used to live in NC, in a small town no one’s ever heard of. I used to think about ghosts all the time but only for fun, I never considered it any different from Santa or faeries.

One night, my mom told me she was sending me to bible summer camp and my experiences there were isolating and negative so I had a breakdown because I really didn’t want to go. I didn’t know shit of what spirits could or couldn’t do especially back then, and I wasn’t one to pray at that age, so I decided to ask any spirit in my house for help, once my parents had left.

I called out, “is any one here? Can you please help me?” a few times.

Before I continue, I need to stress: I have lived in that house for about 10 years by that point. I was an abused kid too, so I taught myself to be VERY keen to every noise the house makes, naturally or by the people living in it. I knew every creak by heart at that point. If someone was in the house, I would know, and I would know who it was based on their walk. And I knew for SURE the difference between normal croaks to walking sounds, the difference between the levels, which door is being opened and closed, etc.

So. After a while of calling out for help, I hear something – my parent’s door unlocking from upstairs, opening, and swinging shut. A pause. I called out again, thinking my parents might still be home and maybe I made a mistake, which I distinctly remember because if they heard me crying I would’ve gotten yelled at. “Hello? Is anyone home?”

Another pause… then, I heard footsteps walk along the hall above me tentatively. They were light, like someone who weighed so little, and was walking barefoot. Almost the same sound as a cat – my cat was outside, though, and these were distinctly human steps. No one was home. I called out one more time, “hello…?”

The walking slowly made its way to the top of the stairs and paused, as if leering down from the top step, something I would often do if there were a stranger in the house or if I was listening in on people downstairs.

Then, very slowly, I heard this entity walk all the way down the steps and leisurely walk towards me down the hall. I saw a glimmer of light like a sunbeam catching the edge of a dress beneath the trees, and the footsteps stopped about a yard out in front of me.

I nervously tried to explain myself, but I felt a confusion and irritation from this thing. I didn’t hear words or see much of anything, so I didn’t know how to close the conversation. I just awkwardly walked away to watch tv, but I felt eyes on me that whole night.

I think I just woke them up and they were annoyed. Ever since then, I’ve been a believer, and I’ve had more unexplainable events happen there too. But, not much after since I’ve moved out.


When I moved in with my boyfriend he told me there was a (ghost) man that had always followed him wherever he lived. I am a firm believer in the paranormal anyway, but it really didn’t bother me after some reassurances that he was benevolent. Not long after moving in, our roommate’s girlfriend started staying over more often and this ghost hated her. If she’d use our bathroom the faucets would both turn on full blast. This would always cause her to run out of the bathroom with her pants around her ankles.

The ceiling fans would turn on by themselves, the TV would increase volume on its own. You had to unplug it to get it to stop. We replaced the TV, that one did the same thing.

After a few months of weird shit happening, I awoke to the feeling of someone sitting at the foot of the bed. I felt the bed compress as though a real person had sat down. I jerked up and looked around and saw nothing but there was an imprint in our comforter where someone had sat. Several more weeks go by and finally the same thing happened again, only this time there was a man there. Big hat, trench coat, looked like he was straight out of a western. After a few seconds he disappeared. I told my boyfriend about him and his response was “Oh good, he finally let you see him”.

After that it just became normal. He sat at the end of the bed most nights while I was pregnant and then after the baby was born he must have went in and sat with her. We would still catch glimpses of him here or there and you’d hear footsteps when home alone. We eventually broke up and I gotta say I miss the ghost way more than the boyfriend.


It was the night after my dad unexpectedly died a few years ago…

He always used to make fun of me for watching paranormal shows. I would jokingly tell him that if I ever died, to watch for weird shit to happen because I was going to give him a sign that it’s real.

I was laying in bed sobbing and trying to process that I had just lost him. I was trying to be quiet because I was laying next to my boyfriend at the time who was sleeping. It was the absolute most painful feeling I’ve ever felt to this day. All of the sudden, my phone that was on the night stand started lighting up and beeping. No notifications. Just flashing on and off while making noises. It wasn’t plugged in. Just sitting there. After about 2 minutes of it, I was almost in a panic. I’m still not sure why but it scared me. I said out loud, “Dad, if that’s you, please stop because I’m freaking out”. Then it stopped. Just as quickly as it had started. I know it was him. I’ve regretted telling him to stop since the second it came out of my mouth. I’ve never really felt him since. Maybe it was him just letting me know he was there and that all the shit he gave me for believing was worth it. Maybe I was just at a mental breaking point. Who knows. But, I’m glad it happened and I got to experience it.


3 things for me. two were/ are sightings and one was an experience that saved my life. Firstly was in my first house, i was alone in the house with the bathroom door locked as i was taking a shower. i turn to get the soap and there was someone standing right outside the shower door! I thought my room mate came home and was messing with me so i told him to get lost…. only after finishing my shower i find that the door was indeed locked! Second was that in my current house we often have “nuns” walking across the corridor from the spare room to our bedroom, still happens on occasion today……..Lastly it was about 5 years ago when something pulled me back from a pedestrian crossing just as a lorry went barreling through the red light whilst the driver was looking to his left………i surely would have been severely injured if not killed. there was absolutely no one near me to have been able to pull me backwards….



I was on the phone to a friend as we were chatting I heard his mum in the background saying she came back as she has forgot something and said I love you to him. 2 minutes later he had to hang up the phone as his dads phone was calling him. His parents had been in a severe car accident on a motorway and his mother had died in the ambulance. He didn’t see his mum in the house but we both heard her. The accident was around 6 miles away. His dad has suffered a broken arm leg and cuts. The accident had happened 40 minutes before we heard his mum.



My grandma + uncles bought a house together in 2008 because it was unbelievably cheap. Every man who was married or in a relationship who slept in a particular room in the house would wake up from the same nightmare.
They would walk outside that house holding their SO’s hand, and just before they got out into the main street (this house was at the end of a dead end street with 3 houses) a really pretty woman would walk out of the house at the other end of the little street. Then she would kind of seductively move her ass (which according to my cousin, was the only ass he would describe as being as hot as his wife’s) and the moment they looked, she would turn around real quick, showing a rotting face, and charge towards them. The moment their SO turned to protect them or the moment the SO asked her to leave him alone, they would wake up. One of my uncles woke up sputtering for air because she had started choking him in the dream before my aunt told her to back off.
We later found out a woman who had been raped by her husband’s married friends had hung herself there 30 years prior and the house had been going from owner to owner ever since. They (my family) did a bunch of purification rituals and finally ended up locking that room up for good. And that kept it okay for a while but 3 years later, my grandma also passed in the same house so nobody wanted to stay there anymore and they sold it again. For the same unbelievably low price they got it in the first place.



I’ve had a bunch of things happen in my room as a kid in our old house. It was just unexplained, but I never felt threatened.

  1. One morning while playing with my lego blocks quietly (parents sound asleep in the room next door) I felt the atmosphere change as if somebody entered the room. I turned to look at the door to my room expecting to see mom or dad coming to tell me good morning, but nobody was there. I continued playing, and then heard distinct footsteps in my room. At this point I paused and made no sound to concentrate on the footsteps. I had a thick carpeted floor, and I can almost see where the steps landed they were so clear. It started from behind me as I sat on the floor, came around and then were in the front of me. I freaked out and without explaining anything to my parents I ran into their rooms and insisted to them it was just time to wake up.

  2. I was sleep in the same bedroom one night, also at a young age (7-8 years old) and my bed had this squeaky wooden frame that even if I rolled slightly, the bed would squeak loudly. A few times my dad would sneak into my room to say goodnight, but the game would be he would crawl to the foot of my bed and start shaking. I’ll never forget how loud the bed squeaked and I’d always laugh at the miniature earthquake he generated, as I would pounce to the foot of my bed to catch him there laughing. I remember it was late one night, everybody sound asleep and my bed started to shake violently. I thought it strange dad would choose not to play these games, so I allowed the bed to continue to shake as I used the squeaking and the shaking to cover my slow movement under my blanket to the foot of the bed, thinking this time I will be the one to scare him. As I pounced out from under the covers to the foot of the bed, there was nobody there and the shaking stopped at that exact moment. I remember kind of laughing to myself at how silly I must have looked, and that a small earthquake got me real good. The moment I curled back into bed properly, nearly seconds after of settling the shaking and squeaking of the wood frame began again. Aftershocks perhaps I recall thinking, but just to be certain I jumped to check the side and foot of my bed and just like before, at that exact moment everything stopped shaking. This happened an additional two times afterwards, with the commotion always stopping at the exact moment I investigated. My mom yelled at me from next door telling me to be quiet and go to sleep, thinking I was jumping around on the bed or some nonsense.

  3. The above happened with me when I was home alone, but with our remote controlled garage door. If you struck the garage door when it was down, it resonated and made a very loud metallic sound that echoed for a few seconds. I was in the TV room, and the door to the garage was also in this room. I’d hear the garage door shaking loudly, but it always started gently then would get much much more intense. The first time I ran out to investigate I expected to see my German Sheppard lying against the garage door, scratching himself thus making the banging noise. Nothing was there. I returned to watching tv, and just like the experience before, this event happened another three times, with each time I stick my head out to investigate, everything stopped shaking.

  4. One Christmas my Grandfather got me this toy robot that moved about on tracks. It was white, had claws for hands and a sort of red visor for eyes, and a big red button on top of his head. Each time you hold down the button and speak, the robot recorded your voice and repeated it back in a filtered voice. I had a shelf of toys on the opposite wall of where my bed was, where this robot rested. One night I was awakened from a pretty deep sleep, and just lay there in bed awake looking across my room. Not too long after of waiting to fall back asleep, the toy robot turned on, said something that I could not really pick up, and drove straight off the shelf and crashed onto my desk that I did my homework on breaking into several parts. I’d never forget lying there wide eyed trying to understand what on earth just happened, before it could even fully compute in my mind my parents were both in my room with the lights on. They looked at the mess the robot made, and yelled at me for waking them up and playing with my toys at this hour of the night.

These are the stories that I remembered the best, at age 37 now. Thing is back then, I never thought about ghosts or spirits or anything like that, and with each incident I always tried to play detective and solve the case instead of just accepting that it was something odd happening. We have moved out of the hose many years ago when I turned 15. I still drive by to see the house once a month and unsure who lives there now, but the place looks unwelcoming and a bit run down now. I’ve never mustered the guts to ask the current home owners to allow me to visit my old room.


I’ve been a lucid dreamer since my mom ‘taught’ me, at the suggestion of a sleep therapist, to fix my night terrors as a child (it worked).

Fast forward 25 ish years. My dad (who I was close with) passed from heart failure in his sleep. A few weeks after, I had a particularly bad day missing him. That night I start dreaming. This one wasn’t a lucid one (I can choose to not do it- I sleep better if I don’t). It wasn’t a nightmare but it wasn’t fun. Long story short, I’d ended up in some kind of abandoned rest stop in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of homeless squatters. No food, no money, no friends.

A man walks in. I don’t look at him, but I -feel- him. I feel his shock at the depressing scene, then his crushing sadness, then determination to fix it. He stuck out to me, even in my memory now, as far more -solid- than any dream figure I’d ever had before.

Next thing I know, it’s a party. I’m teenager again, wearing the biggest, poofiest, sparkliest ballgown. All the homeless people are suddenly my friends. It’s a beautiful, happy, love-filled place. My lucid dreaming kicks in, a little, and for a minute I try to change the scene because as much as I loved that stuff when I was six, adult me prefers other things. It doesn’t work. The scene is stuck and I forget about controlling the dream and have what was, to this day, one if the best dreams/nights/restful sleeps of my life.

It never occurred to me it was my dad until well after I woke up. Then I just -knew.- If people can visit us via dreams, if that’s at all possible, then that was him. He was checking in on me, saw the unhappy scene, and fixed it. Everything in the party scene, from the dress to the Prince Charming’s, it all shouted that these were what my father wanted for his little girl; a fairy tale. So that’s what he gave me, just for a bit. It was just so, so, so very much something he would do.

There have been other things in my life before that, but the question was about belief. I’d recognize my dad anywhere, and I believe that was his goodbye.


Some posts edited for clarity