My parents were on their honeymoon to key west. When they arrived at the hotel to check in, they were told that the room would be non-smoking. With my dad being a smoker they requested a different room. They got the room switch and went to their room. As they got off the elevator the smell of fresh paint was overwhelming, down the hall their was a painter with all necessary supplies laid out around him and was painting the wall. As my parents walked passed him they casually greeted him and the painter had absolutely no acknowledgement of their presence. Whatever. When they got to their room the smell of paint was even worse in there, so bad it wasn’t even bearable so they decide to go to the front desk to change rooms. When they explained the situation the attendant looked very confused and informed them that there wasn’t a scheduled paint job on that floor for that day but agreed to change their room. My parents go back to their floor to grab their luggage and the painter is completely gone. All supplies cleaned up and gone within 10minutes-and the smell of paint was completely gone. At this point my parents were freaked out but didn’t think much of it and go to their new room. The next morning on their way to breakfast they overhear a tour guide talking to a group. My parents tuned in when the guide mentioned the floor that they were originally supposed to stay on. Apparently a long time ago there was a painter on that floor painting and fell down the elevator shaft to his death. Now my parents don’t normally believe in the paranormal but after an event like this that they had no explanation for it freaked them out a good bit.
One night when I was maybe 10-12 I had trouble falling asleep. My bedroom was the entire top floor of our house with my bed and such being on the left side and storage closets and a play area being on the right. I was lying in bed when I heard a noise from the other side of the room and see a rocking horse begin to rock. It was sitting just outside one of the storage closet doors. It proceeded to rock its way halfway across the room and stopped dead under the ceiling light. At this point I was freaking out and just buried my head under blankets and never peeked out again until morning.
My mother (who doesn’t believe in any sort of hokey nonsense) once told me a story where one night her and a couple of friends were driving home one night after hanging out, no drugs or alcohol involved. They were crossing a bridge when suddenly their car died, and then all the streetlights cut off. Then they heard a throbbing sound, like a large engine idling, and saw a flash of lights cross overhead rapidly. A few moments later, all of the lights came back on, and then car started back up immediately. A bit unnerved they continued home.
A few days later, the Pascagoula Abduction story was on the news. Apparently they encountered the same craft that supposedly took those two men.
Before I was born my father and mother had a small apartment together. My mother told me once she went in the basement and saw a woman standing at the base of the steps just staring up at her and then she just vanished. Then my father was in the shower (one with a sliding glass door that you can barely make out what’s on the other side) when a large figure walked up to the other side of the glass and banged on it making it blow out, my mother found him in the fetal position in the shower covered in glass and no one was around. That last one made them move out. He confirmed it happened but doesn’t like to talk about it, he’s a relatively tough dude so for something to scare him that much means a lot. Somewhere in between those two occurrences they came home to find absolutely everything moved over about an inch, they realized this cause they’re not very good at dusting.
My nephew lives with me in an old farmhouse built in the 1840’s. When he was about four (maybe five) he told me that there was a little boy named Charlie who lived in our house. He said Charlie had never heard of video games and that Charlie’s dad left him home all by himself. This was around the same time that he had an imaginary friend named Mr. Cat (who was an anthropomorphic cat) so I wrote it off.
A couple weeks later I was shaving with the bathroom door open and thought I could see my nephew kind of looking in at me out of the corner of my eye. I stuck my head around and could see him from behind messing with an old china cabinet we keep important stuff in and just as I walked into the room I could see my nephew sitting in the living room watching tv. He couldn’t have crossed that much distance that fast or silently.
I asked him about it and he said “Oh yeah, that was Charlie. He says there’s a really book in there from when you were a little boy.” And at the bottom of a stack of old documents and stuff in the china cabinet is a book I got as a gift when I was a kid. I didn’t even know it was there, it was under two boxes of documents and couldn’t been seen until the boxes were lifted out.
The little boy didn’t look like you think of ghosts; he wasn’t transparent, he didn’t float, he didn’t look spooky. He just looked like a kid. Now I’m convinced that people see ghosts (or whatever they are) every day and don’t realize it because they look just as real as we do.