Thank you to all the contributors who shared their creepiest or unexplainable stories. Source featured on last page.


A real case printed in the British Medical Journal of a woman whose own brain tumour told her where it was and instructed her on what scans she needed to get.

In the case history, an otherwise healthy woman referred to as “A.B” had been living in Britain since the 1960s and was a full-time homemaker when the events described in the article began in 1984. A.B. was reportedly sitting at home, reading, when she heard a voice in her head. The voice reportedly told her: “Please don’t be afraid. I know it must be shocking for you to hear me speaking to you like this, but this is the easiest way I could think of. My friend and I used to work at the Children’s Hospital, Great Ormond Street, and we would like to help you.”

A.B.’s response to this voice was about what you would expect. Frightened at what was happening, she tried to ignore the message but the voice reassured her by providing her with additional information about the hospital she would need to attend. Convinced by this point that she had gone mad, she consulted her family doctor who referred her to Dr. Azuonye (a psychiatrist).

After an examination, which showed no medical explanation for what A.B. had heard, he diagnosed her with a functional hallucinatory psychosis. Along with supportive counselling, she was also treated with thioridazine and the voices disappeared after a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, the voices returned several weeks later even though she was still taking the medication. This time, the voices were even more specific in directing her to the diagnostic imaging wing of a nearby London hospital. The voices then informed her that she had a tumour in her brain and that she needed a scan for proper diagnosis. They even told her the approximate location of the tumour (her brain stem).

Though Dr. Azuonye had found no evidence supporting the presence of a brain tumour, A.B. was distressed enough by this time that he ordered the scan done. This actually took some negotiating since a computerized tomography test is an expensive procedure and the lack of any apparent medical justification, aside from a hallucination, made the request hard to fathom. After considerable debate, the scanning was done. Sure enough, the scan showed evidence of a meningioma with a left posterior frontal parafalcine mass extending through the falx to the right side.

The neurosurgeon to whom Dr. Azuonye referred his patient gave A.B. and her husband the option of immediate surgery as opposed to waiting for actual symptoms to appear. After weighing the pros and cons, A.B. decided on immediate surgery (the voices were in full agreement).

The operation was carried out in May of1984 with no surgical complications. According to A.B., she heard from the voices one last time after regaining consciousness when she heard them say, “We are pleased to have helped you. Goodbye.” No post-surgical problems arose though she was kept on anti-seizure medication for six months after the operation as a precaution. The anti-psychotic medication was also discontinued.



I had just moved into a new house. One day I was downstairs when I heard what sounded like furniture moving around upstairs, I go up to investigate but no sounds, nothing is moved. Go back downstairs and it starts again, I go back up; nothing. This went on for about an hour; I almost called the police because I was positive someone was in my home. I ended up calling someone and kept them on speaker phone while I searched the attic and any other place maybe an animal could be hiding but I never found anything.

Eventually, I gave up my search and went to bed; that night I had a dream that I was driving to work in the rain and fog and crashed. Someone approached me and asked “are you ready to move on?” and I woke up.

At the time I was working mid-shift so around 10 PM that same day I get in the car on a foggy and rainy night and make my way into work without any issue. The building I worked in had security cameras all over and it being so late I was the only person coming in. When I get inside the person I was relieving asked who I came in with. I was alone but she swore someone followed me inside. It was a very unnerving 12 hours, to say the least.



I was hiking through the remnants of a remote, long-abandoned town and the surrounding area. To get to as far into the woods as I was, you had to cross fallen trees over a creek three times. I had just crossed the third “bridge” and was about five miles in and something blue caught my eye just ahead of me.

There was a man, in his sixties at least, wearing blue satin pyjamas, sitting in a tree. The closer I got to him the louder he laughed; it wasn’t a maniacal laugh, but it set off all the alarms in my head nevertheless. He also wasn’t wearing any shoes and looked well-groomed/cleaned.

I gave him a friendly nod as I passed and he just kept laughing. Then it stopped. I turned and he was gone. There was no branch cracking, plants rustling, nothing… He was just gone.

Still rubs me the wrong way. The area I was in was a pretty rough hike, very secluded. Not very many people venture as deep as I was that day. No idea what was going on there.



Didn’t experience this first hand but I overhead some of it on the phone. My sister was visiting my parents (home from college) for the weekend. I live in my own place in the next town over. I called her about something and she was clearly very upset. She told me she was home alone and “something was happening” and I asked her if there was someone in the house/an intruder. She told me there were animalistic growling noises coming from the corner and my mom’s dog was going nuts at the noise (I could hear him in the background). She said the hallway lights were flashing on and off. I told her to get her jacket and calmly walk out of the house, taking the dog with her if she could, that I would be by soon to pick her up.

She went outside and brought the dog with her. Her friend was even closer than I was so she picked my sister up and they hung out at her friend’s house for a while. About twenty minutes after that my brother (who also lived nearby) stopped by the house to return some tools he’d borrowed for my dad. He went inside because he saw the lights going on and off (and he’s an electrician). Once he was inside they stopped.

He kept hearing someone walking around in the other room, but when he’d go in there, no one was there and when he called out no one responded. He checked the whole house and then also heard animal growling noises from the same corner as my sister. This is an outside wall corner, with windows, not enough space for a raccoon or something to be trapped inside the wall. My brother felt really unnerved and left.



I was playing poker at the local casino and got into a hand with this guy who was wearing some sort of space-themed hoodie. The second the first three cards hit the board, I had the strongest deja vu I have ever experienced. I had a dream about that exact moment like a year ago, and I knew the exact next two cards that were going to come out.

They came out just as I had expected to the point of me calling them, and I won a huge hand.



Came home from a date at abt 11 pm. House dark, didn’t switch on lights cos I know my way around. Went straight to the bathroom, on my way back, down the passage I bumped into my dog, a shar pei, he is as big as my mid-thigh.

Told my boy I love him and he should be sleeping but good boy for checking on his mom.

Open my bedroom door which was 3/4’s closed and switch on the light at the same time.

Only to see him on my bed, sleeping, lifting his head when the light came on, to look at me.

I would’ve heard him or felt him move past me. I was alone. What bumped into me?



My family moved into a new house when I was 11 years old. The previous owners were a family and the mom died of cancer. They sold the house shortly after she passed away.

Growing up, my sister and I always had an uneasy feeling about that house. Strange things would happen but each instance had a plausible explanation, except for this one time when I was 16.

In the middle of the night I was having trouble sleeping. While I was lying there in my bed, the door to my room opened on it’s own. I could hear footsteps come into my room. I couldn’t see anyone but I felt like someone else was in my room. (Ever have someone come up behind you while you’re on the computer? or listening to music and just know they were there without hearing or seeing them? Like that.)

I could hear the footsteps get closer to my bed. Then, right next to me appeared compression on my bed, like an invisible person was sitting there. I could even feel the weight shift. I reached out to touch the compression and all of a sudden a bunch of blue static electricity shot out from the spot I touched. I screamed and ran out of my room, waking up the entire house.

I couldn’t explain what I saw that night. Was almost questioning my own sanity and that’s why I don’t tell this story often. For the record, I was 100% sober at the time. Also, because I could move I don’t think it was sleep paralysis.

The strange thing is that years later my sister ran into the daughter of the previous family. She told my sister that her mom had actually died in the house, not at the hospital.



Not camping per se (thankfully no horrors on that front yet, probably because I sleep with earplugs so I don’t scare myself to death), but last summer I took a shot at astrophotography with my dslr and new lens in this tiny, tiny town in Utah. My boyfriend and I drove down from the little ranch lodge we were staying at around midnight when the stars were out and beautiful on a moonless night. The downside was it was dark as hell and we only had our phones to set up the camera and tripod on a random empty driveway in the middle of someone’s alfalfa field.

When you take astrophotography shots you have to do at least 10 or 15 long exposure shots (minimum) then stack them in post-processing. So I get everything set up just past a small rope marking this person’s property off the road (we wouldn’t be there more than 30 minutes and the closest house was probably 500 yards away, so I wasn’t too worried) and start taking photos, each of which is about 15-30 second exposures (aka a long time when you’re in complete darkness in an empty field). My boyfriend comes over to me and mutters, “do you hear that?” I say no, and right about then some cows across the road start mooing like crazy (usually a sign something is messing with the herd).

I said, “Hear what?” and my boyfriend just shook his head as if to say “later”. We’re probably 10 shots into what I had hoped would be 30, with long processing on the camera between each exposure that makes the dark and the silence even more pressing. I start to get an overwhelming sense that something is maybe 10 feet away and watching us. The sensation is so strong that I don’t even want to turn my flashlight on because then I might actually see something and scare myself to death. (Plus I’d have to stop photographing.)

So I’m standing there, getting incredibly antsy as the feeling becomes more powerful. I’ve never felt anything like it before or since. It was a sense of immense animosity, of being preyed on from something just past arms’ length. At 15 shots my boyfriend says, “Can we please go?” – and keep in mind this is a 6’5″ strong guy who never backs down from anything. I paused for 5 seconds to reflect on how uncomfortable I felt and then skipped breaking down the tripod to basically sprint to the car, stuff the camera on the tripod next to me, and hop in. The boyfriend was even faster. I asked him what he was hearing as we sped back to the lodge and he said, “heavy breathing right next to us the whole time”.

Now, I know it could have been a mountain lion or even a random dog or something, but I’ve never felt so watched in my life, with such a terrible amount of animosity. I didn’t end up with too great of a shot because we didn’t take too many exposures, but I can post it for credibility if anyone wants.



At my Dad’s funeral, my sister, my aunt (Dad’s sister), and I all sat around the table discussing various things.

One of the things we talked about was my cousin’s funeral. This was my aunt’s daughter. She died about 12 years prior, she was hit by a drunk driver while on vacation with our grandparents in Myrtle Beach and suffered an internal decapitation. She was DOA. She was 10-11 years old (going into 5th grade). My sister was 8, I was 5. I don’t remember too much about her or the funeral TBH.

My sister told the story about how she and a friend had gone to play at the playground where my cousin had gone to school. While they were playing they saw a little girl hanging out around them but never coming up to them and never saying anything. Both my sister and her friend were freaked out. The girl was wearing jean short overalls, a white flowery tee, and had long brown hair braided into two pigtails.

I chimed in and said that that girl must be really poor and not able to buy new clothes because when I would play there (I went to that elementary) that little girl was there and she would follow me around the playground. My friends all saw her too and they thought it was weird. For some reason, she didn’t weird me out. I just thought she was shy and wanted friends. She was always wearing the exact same outfit my sister described and had long brown hair braided into pigtails.

This is when my aunt, who is now in tears, chimes in. It turns out that my cousin was buried in a brand new pair of blue jean short overalls, a white tee with flowers on it, and with her long brown hair braided into two pigtails.

We never knew what she had been buried in because it was a closed casket funeral (she was really beaten up).

My sister and I have no doubt that the girl we both saw on the playground was our cousin.



I used to work in a small office (About 60 people at max capacity) that had a security guard on duty 24/7. One night, I had to stay super duper late by myself because I had to leave early the next day and needed to finish my workload. All of my other co-workers are gone by around 10 pm, the cleaning crew comes in, and now it’s just me and the security guard. The place is dark but I’m not at all frightened because I’m not scared of most things (the dark, ghosts, etc), the security guard is a really nice dude, and we’re in a safe neighbourhood.

The security guards are required to make rounds every couple of hours just to make sure things are fine. Sometimes they say something to us, most times they don’t. Tonight, nice guy security dude stops by my cubicle and asks, “Everything alright?” Big friendly grin on his face per usual. “All good here, thanks!” I go back to work. 20 minutes later, he’s back again. Big grin.

“Everything alright?”

“Yup! Nothing yet!” &nbsp 20 minutes later… he’s back. Big grin.

At this point, I am a little creeped out. There is no need for him to come by this frequently… in fact, it’s disruptive. I also noticed that the way he interacts with me is always exactly the same as if I were in a time loop. Same big grin, same intonation, the same rhythm of speech.

Not only that, but I also noticed that he whistles the same thing at around the same time, so if I turn off the music on my headphones, I can HEAR his whistling coming closer before he asks…

“Everything alright?”

It’s around midnight and I’m totally freaked out. I try to rationalize this with myself because I have to get this work done. I’m rushing through my work and I keep hearing that whistling behind me. Surely, he won’t come back again…

“Everything alright?”


At this point, I’m freaked out because I no longer trust this guy I felt so safe around (I was a young woman in her mid-20’s, security guard’s a dude in his 50’s-ish??). I couldn’t finish everything but I wrote an e-mail to my supervisor saying that the security guard is acting VERY strange and I don’t feel safe. I shut everything down, try to rush to the exit.

I don’t run into the security guard and just as I’m feeling free and clear, I hear “Bye now,” behind me. He’s standing there in the dark hallway, big grin. Just standing there and watching.

I mumble something and fucking sprint to my car.

The next day, I rush to my supervisor to try to explain what happened the night before. In the light of day, it kind of felt like I might’ve overreacted or maybe my mind was playing tricks on me.

Turns out, the dude just disappeared. He’s missing. I’m pretty sure they still haven’t found him to this day. The security guard company just kind of dismissed it as some flaky guy who quit for no reason and no one seemed to be pursuing it much.

He must’ve been suffering some kind of mental health issue or SOMEthing but up until that night, he was just a super nice, trustworthy, reliable security guard that everybody loved. It also felt like some kind of weird paranormal shit because it really felt like something had “taken over” inside of him.



A few years back I was preparing for an overnight camping trip in an area that didn’t have any cell phone service. My mom called me to tell me my grandpa was going in that day for a quick routine surgery and that I should give him a call before I head out of cell service to send him my love and well wishes. I did so and went off camping without a worry in my heart.

That night I had incredibly vivid dreams that I was at the hospital where my grandpa was, and that things weren’t going well. I was watching my mom panic and worry, as well as my grandma. They discussed whether to “let him go” or not. I saw him on the operating table. I was THERE. I was with him when he died. When I woke up the next morning crying, I told my boyfriend that my grandpa had died and that my mom is probably trying to get a hold of me. He reassured me that it was just a bad dream brought on by the worry of someone I love being in the hospital, but I knew. I just felt it.

So we drove to the nearest town and I called my mom. She answered in tears and told me that my grandpa had indeed died from unforeseen complications. I told her about my dream and she was shocked. The scenes and conversations I described were exactly what happened in the hospital. I described what the hospital looked like (I had never been there as I lived in a different province) and sure enough my mom confirmed my descriptions.

I have never before or never since experienced anything like this or anything paranormal whatsoever. I know though, that I was with my grandpa in his final moments, in that hospital.



A disembodied voice may have saved my sister’s life.

When I was about 12 my family lived in my great-grandmother’s house. She had died in that house before my sister and I were born, but we knew that it was her home we were staying in.

I’m sitting in the front room as my sister walks toward the front door, and she suddenly stops and turns to me. “What did you say?” she asked. I hadn’t said anything, I was sitting quietly with headphones on. We’re looking at each other confused and suddenly a car spins out in the street in front of our house. The driver regains control and takes off at high speed again. My sister was about to walk to her friend’s house and might’ve crossed paths with that car if she had left the house.

We’re both startled and my sister tells me that a stern voice that sounded like Mom told her to “SHUT THAT DOOR.” Mom was in her bedroom but when we asked her she hadn’t said anything or left her room.

Somewhat related: My sister had talked about dreams she had where she would come home and speak to an old woman. One day my mom finds an old photo album and my sister instantly recognizes a picture of the old woman from her dreams. It was our great-grandmother whose home we were staying in.

From what I’ve learned over the years, things like this are common for the women in my family. Not really creepy, just a bit odd.



Heard this story from my mom regarding my oldest brother who is 12 years older than me. And at the time of the story, I think he was around four years old.

Apparently he had some sort of problem that young kids could have where he would stop breathing during the night or something like that – real scary stuff. So he slept on a blanket that would beep if he stopped breathing, but my mom would still pull all-nighters making sure he was breathing properly and didn’t die in his sleep. So one particular night she was extra tired and dozed off next to his bed.

When she woke up during the night my brother was completely pale and motionless – with no beeping from the blanket. She panics the fuck out and starts shaking him and trying to get him to breathe. And, according to her, he looked very much dead – cold and just limp. Now I don’t know how long this actually took (panic and time perception), but mom maintains to this day that he had not been breathing for a good 10-15minutes during the 911 call and up until just before the paramedics arrived.

All of a sudden he just comes back. Starts coughing, catches his breath and pretty much comes back to life. Paramedics arrived shortly thereafter and since mom was all hysterical they needed to keep her outside of his room because her panic caused him to panic. She eventually calms down and listened to the paramedics calming my brother down and just chit-chatting.

They wanted to lighten the mood and said something in the lines of “Oh, you really scared your mom there, with that deep sleep”. And he answered in a very matter-of-fact voice; “I could hear mommy screaming, but I could not find her until the old lady showed me the way back home.”

The paramedics did not seem to phased about it, but it made my mom convinced that he’d been saved by something otherworldly. So it’s both comforting but pretty damn creepy too.



When I was 16, I opened my blinds late at night with the lights off to someone’s face pressed up against the window. This was in the deep suburbs, where we had 1 street light in our cul-de-sac and it was pitch black outside.

I couldn’t move or say anything. It was just a pale man’s face pressed right into the glass, staring in. It’s almost like he wasn’t really looking at anything until I opened the blinds. My heart stopped. I tried to scream but I choked on my own terror. I could hardly see anything, I couldn’t even tell if we were making eye contact. My eyes adjusted and I could finally make out his face, somewhat. I felt icy needles shoot through my heart, a kind of pain that’s hard to describe.

His eyes got wide and he grinned, as though he sensed my fear. I could see the whites of his eyes, 2 feet away from my own eyes. He had very dark lips, I could barely make out his teeth locked in the widest grin I’ve seen. He must have been on drugs, because his expression was absolutely insane and he was not blinking or moving, just locking his eyes to mine (as far as I could tell). The way his face was pressed up against the glass made it look like he had no nose, it was just sickening.

I jolted out of my room to wake up my parents, but I took one look back. He was still there, grinning and wide-eyed. We called the cops and huddled in the kitchen with knives, in the pitch-black darkness hearing nothing. The silence was the worst part. I wish I could hear something, but all I heard was the pounding of my heart. Even the sound of this predator smashing through the window would have been less terrifying.

The cops came within 10 minutes, although it felt like hours. When it got lighter, the cops did a search and found the obvious face print on my window. There were also face prints on other windows on the back yard side of my house – into my parents’ room and into our kitchen. Who knows how long he was out there. They also found pistachio shells all over the deck that my window faces out to. He was walking back and forth between the windows eating pistachios.

There was a small patch of woods behind our back yard, they suggested he ran through there and for us to think about putting a fence up. I have never opened the blinds at night since, even after moving to a 20th-floor condo.



I heard what I thought was my brother singing. We had a piano in our basement as teenagers, and in the early morning or late at night, he spent quite a bit of time on it playing music. I should note, we lived in an old house, and sound travelled relatively well, so even when he was being ‘quiet,’ you could hear him all the way up on the top floor.

One morning, around 8 AM, I woke up and went about getting ready for the day. My brother was singing in the basement, being loud and obnoxious. His voice is very distinct. And I remember walking out the bathroom, leaning over the top of the stairwell, and shouting down for him to shut up. He kept going, so I shouted louder.

But then I remembered my brother wasn’t home that day. He’d left earlier that morning with my parents. The singing stopped. I went downstairs to find the basement dark. I was alone in the house.



I live in a 1850c plantation home in the middle of nowhere, largely unchanged since it’s prime – original floors, wallpaper, and many outbuildings.

I’m not someone who really believes in ghosts, but something happens in this house that causes (what seems like) events to replay.

I’ve laid in bed and heard someone calling for “John” outside. Not once, it repeated, each time more distressed and in a different part of the yard, for about 20 seconds. No named name John has lived there in at least 40 years. Exactly one month later, my boyfriend heard the same thing.

There are periods of time where we can’t sleep through the night because we are being woken up by the sound of someone walking around in our room.

One night I was making the bed and I heard who I thought was my boyfriend ask “what are you doing?”,I told him “making the bed”. He didn’t reply so when I walked into the hall I realized I was alone and he was outside chopping wood.

There is an identifiable cycle to it. We know when it picks up and slows down because it’s happened so often we found patterns.

I know everyone who has lived in that house over the past 30 years – they all have these stories. Some of them refuse to even go in the house.



When I was a lot younger (maybe about 13 years old), my family and I were vacationing in St. Simon’s Island, GA. I had an Aunt who lived there who, at the time, gave tours of the reportedly “haunted” lighthouse on the island. Well, one night she hooked us up and gave us a private tour of the lighthouse after hours (as in there was no one else there except for my Aunt who was giving the tour and my family and me). Since the lighthouse was haunted, throughout the entire tour, I was anxiously awaiting some paranormal activity of some kind. Unfortunately, nothing remotely paranormal happened. So, my Aunt led us out the front door of the lighthouse and turned on the alarm for the night (so that no one would break into the lighthouse).

Note: I personally watched her check the lighthouse, put the alarm on, and lock the doors.

Then, my Aunt got into her car parked out front while my family and I decided to just walk around a little bit and look at the outside of the lighthouse. That’s when we saw it. We were looking up at one of the second-story windows in the lighthouse and saw one of the curtains slightly peel back. I was able to see a sliver of what looked like a woman’s face peeking out. For literally a second, I saw one of her eyes and upper forehead, and her skin had a very grey tone to it. Then the curtain snapped shut.

At this point, my legs were shaking like jelly and I turned to my family to see if they had seen what I had just seen. Everyone saw the curtain peel back, but my dad was the only one that saw the woman’s face.

Anxious to see more, we ran around looking at the other windows of the lighthouse, when we caught a glimpse of one of the upper windows above the third-floor landing. There was an “up-and-down” window shade on this window, rather than a “peel back” curtain-like on the other window. All of a sudden, the window shade started going up and down very rapidly. This lasted for almost 30 seconds before coming to a complete halt. But the weird part was that, because this window was above a landing, THERE WERE NO STAIRS BENEATH THE WINDOW FOR ANYONE TO STAND ON TO BE ABLE TO MOVE THE CURTAINS.

We did not see any more ghosts that night, but we immediately called my Aunt who was already at home by this point. She assured us that NO ONE could have been in the lighthouse because there are sensors inside that would have set off the alarm.

She told us that when the lighthouse was first founded, the lighthouse assistant killed his boss for having an affair with his wife. This murder took place on the front steps of the lighthouse.



When I was a teenager a friend and I was dogsitting for my uncle overnight and we camped out in sleeping bags on his living room floor. We were right next to the tv/entertainment stand that had those glass doors with the magnetic closures that you press on both to open and to close. In the middle of the night that glass door suddenly opened and closed, slamming over and over again (maybe 5x) and then loud country music started blaring out of the speakers. Half asleep, I was desperately trying to figure out where the on/off button was to turn it off. My friend then told me that right before it happened she had heard footsteps on the stairs (I slept through that part.) We were terrified and I don’t think we got much sleep after that.

I told my parents and my Uncle when he got home the next day and I think they all just thought we were crazy.



When I was 8 and a half-ish, my friend and I liked to go push biking a lot. We lived in a small country town, so where pretty much given free reign to just disappear for the day. It was a weekend, and as we were riding up the crest of a small hill that overlooked a valley in the town, I started to get this deeply uneasy feeling. We stopped at the top.

From where we were, we looked out over the valley and directly at the next ‘hill’ (because Australia really just has bumps…) which is where our primary school was. The ‘bottom’ of that hill was the bottom of the school, and it was the road where all the parents picked up their kids.

As I’m looking out over the valley, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze, movement catches my eye. I look back at the school, and I freeze in terror as I watch one car go careening into a car pulled up on the side. I see the two cars smash and crumple up, I can hear the crackle of breaking glass, the rattling thump of the impact, and I know with a bone-deep, terrifying certainty, that my other close friend, her sister and mum are in there… and that they’re dead, and my friend is going to be left all alone. This was an unshaken fact in my mind as I stared at the accident. I didn’t question how I could so clearly hear the screams of the onlookers, the screech of tearing metal, or the ozone stink of hot metal. Even though I was too far away to even be able to hear anything- somehow, I was getting sensory overload, like I was right there.

My best friend asked me what was wrong. I’m shaking and crying at this point, so I manage stutter and somehow to get across what I’ve seen. She’s puzzled, so my attention focuses back to her as she explains that there is nothing wrong, what am I freaking out about? So I look back, still horrified- and there’s nothing there. Everything is still, quiet and calm.

A week later, in exactly the same spot, my friend was in a devastating accident. Her mum was picking her and her older sister up from school when someone lost control of their car and smashed into them. The mother and sister died on impact, and my friend was hospitalised for months afterwards.

I felt horrifically guilty for years afterwards. I should have told someone, anyone, what I saw, but it was so strange and unnerving that I just tried to forget about it instead.



I had pneumonia when my grandfather died. I sleepwalk. I think I was sleepwalking this because I don’t remember it. I woke up, walked into my mom’s room, shook her awake and told her that papa loved her and wanted to her to know he would always watch over her. She was ushering me back to bed when the phone rang. That phone call was my grandmother telling my mom that papa had passed.



This had to have been about two years ago during the summer. I had this dream that I was in this old-timey train station and I was standing next to this man wearing a brown trench coat and one of those fedoras reporters used to wear. The man then turned to me and said “I’m going to pick up your Uncle Bud. Don’t worry about him, he’s going to be just fine.” As the man turned away, the train pulled up and the man walked on. I woke up from the dream as soon as the train pulled out of the station. When I woke up it was about 1 in the morning.

The next morning I get the news that my great Uncle Bud died in the night around 1 am. I immediately told my parents about the dream. After describing the man in the station, my dad shockingly exclaimed that he knew for a fact that the man in my dream was his dad who had passed years before I was born. According to my father, his dad wore the same brown trench coat and hat, and it made sense that his dad picked up Uncle Bud because they used to be really good friends.

I remember at that time being really shaky on my beliefs of the paranormal and sometimes I still am, but I truly cannot explain that.



In my teen years, I moved into a kind of half-assed bedroom in the basement of my mom’s house. I think saying it was a creepy basement is a little redundant but just to be clear: this was and is a creepy basement. A couple of rooms were finished, with tile flooring, a fireplace, panelled walls and a half bath. The rest was unfinished, with sinks and oil tanks and HVAC and pipes and a surprising amount of storage (just mostly empty rooms holding junk).

I spent some years in my bedroom in the basement with no real problems, but one night, I got a scare.

I had stayed up late studying for a Biology final. I turned in, I no longer remember but, sometime after 1 a.m. Things seemed pretty routine; I fell asleep. I maybe should mention I was sleeping in a full or queen-sized bed that had formerly belonged to my mom’s parents, both of whom were deceased by the time of my story.

An hour or so later I came awake, my hands clutching the tops of the blankets and sheets, trying to tug them but finding unexpected resistance. I was just kind of half-awake at first, confused, then awake enough to register: I’m attempting to pull the sheet/blankets as I turn over in bed, as I’ve done many times before, and they’re not pulling. Like maybe they are caught on the bedsprings somehow…?

I pulled harder. No good. Pulled again – then suddenly the blankets and sheets were jerked the other direction strongly, pulled right out of my hands. I remember kind of stammering, trying to say something in response, but I couldn’t form words.

I immediately turned on the light beside the bed and sat up and looked to the left, in the direction the bedding had been pulled. There was nothing and no one there. I pulled on the blankets again and they moved fine – no resistance, no problems. Everything normal.

It took me a while but I got up and looked over at the other side of the bed. There was nothing to explain what I had just experienced. I turned on more lights and put on a record and stayed up the rest of the night. I eventually looked under the bed and, there was nothing there.

I continued to stay in that room for another year or so. Nothing like this happened to me again (though I slept with the light on for a while after), with one exception that seems noteworthy. Within a week or so of the bedsheets incident, one night the door to my bedroom opened, apparently by itself. This happened earlier in the evening, before I had turned in and when others in the house were still up and around. My memory is I said out loud something like, “Go away, you’re not welcome here, this is my room.” Fortunately, there was no reply. But, no further troubles, either.

I know the obvious explanation is I was asleep and talked myself into something unnatural had happened. It’s possible. But when it happened I was quite sure I was awake (after the first moments) and experiencing something abnormal. If anything I’d say I subsequently talked myself into well… I probably just dreamed that….

This is too long, I know, but I will also add: I had a few other spooky events in this house (nothing dramatic) prior to this, and my mom claimed at least one as well. My mom still lives there but no one has used the improvised bedroom in the basement for several years now. Back when this happened I told a friend who reminded me I was sleeping underground at approximately the same level as a corpse is buried.



I was catching a train one day and I found a DVD on a seat. I checked to see if anyone owned it but the train car was empty so I stuffed it in my bag. That night I watched the short film that was on the DVD. In the film, the protagonist found a DVD on the train and later on in the film, he met the star on the DVD that he had found.

Fast forward to a few nights later and I was at a restaurant and saw the actor who played the protagonist. Not quite believing what was happening I walked up to him, introduced myself and told him I found the DVD of the movie he starred in, on the train. Initially, he said something like ‘oh cool’. Then as it sunk in his face went pale, his mouth gaped and we both had to have a drink to recover from our minds being blown up.



About six or seven years ago, while living with someone else entirely, I woke up from a dream with a name on my mind and my lips – a girl that I hadn’t seen since high school, one who I never really interacted with. I didn’t think much about it for a few years. That relationship ended and eventually, I moved back home.

My mom said that I was going to fall in love and get married very quickly and live happily ever after. Mothers are great for that kind of stuff, aren’t they? The last thing I wanted to do was move back in with my parents. After much consideration, most of which had to do with a lack of rent money, I moved home.

Within a month, I was part of a local music venue/craft beer bar. The owner sold the business to a friend of mine at the time and myself by the end of that year, and the next summer, that girl that I dreamed about walked right the fuck into my bar when I was behind it serving drinks. She was living 400 miles away and just happened to be home for the weekend.

She deliberated about going in because we charged a cover, but eventually gave in and met her friend. Gone goes the air in my lungs. Hazy goes to the room.

Three years later, we are married. Shortly after I moved back home and met my wife, I had another dream. In this dream, I was looking at my wife and kids from the living room, through a pass-through area with cupboards, and into a large seemingly recently renovated kitchen.

Of course, we moved into this house about a year or two after I had the dream. The kitchen isn’t remodelled yet and the pass-through area is currently our computer room, but it’s the same thing I saw in my dream. Better get moving on those renovations!