THE TWO CONVERSING SPIRITS
One night I was sleeping upstairs, when I heard someone whispering. I opened my eyes and turned to see an old man sitting on my foot locker, wearing a tuxedo. He was looking over at the other side of my bed, apparently talking to someone. I turned and "felt" the presence of a girl; around 8, sitting on my bean bag. I closed my eyes and waited to fall asleep. While trying to fall asleep, I heard them talking to one another! I couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but I remember hearing things like "Who?" and "When?" It really scared me.
POLTERGEIST IN THE KITCHEN
I believe that we have a spirit in our home. I also believe him to be somewhere around the age of 14-15 years old. Every time my mother bought or made a cake, he would show up! He flipped forks around, threw down paper towels, and played with the kitchen door. He played with that door for hours. Even without the presence of cake, he played with the door. One night I was chatting online when the kitchen door began to open, slam, and make tapping noises. I was scared out of my mind, but I fought up my courage and said "Can you keep it down? My mom's asleep". The door tapped one last time and stopped! We moved a few months later.
THE LITTLE VISITOR
When I was eight; my cousin who was five at the time, kept telling me about his imaginary friend she had named Christian. He always played "by himself" with his trucks and my brother and I always wondered why. When my 5 year old cousin described what Christian looked like: his hair, clothes, everything….to my mom, her eyes grew big. We found out that Christian was not an imaginary friend at all…turns out, he was a young boy who drowned in the lake next door
STOPPING BY TO SAY HELLO AND A FINAL GOODBYE
One year while visiting my grandma in Hawaii, I must’ve been around 4 or 5 years old. We lived in an old house on stilts built into the side of a mountain. The walkway to the front door was made of wood and passed right by the kitchen window. Since the house was on stilts, the footsteps were hollow and distinct. Well one day I heard the little pitter patter of bare feet walking by the kitchen window. I thought it was my cousins coming to visit so I yelled for my grandma. But when I opened the front door, no one was there. I went all the way up to the street and saw no one. When I told my grandma, she said it was just my cousin who had passed away several years ago (CRIB death). Since I had been gone so long, he just wanted to say "Hi". Then years later, my sister and I were washing dishes in the kitchen and we heard the heavy clunk of my grandpa’s construction boots. So we decided to hide behind the kitchen curtains to yell “Boo!!” when he passed by. Well………………the sound of the boots clunking walked by, but no grandpa, boy were we scared. We went screaming to grandma, and she just said that was my uncle Blackie coming to say "Hi", since he hadn’t seen us in a while (he was murdered). When I was sixteen my grandpa passed away. There were a lot of grandchildren; I think the oldest was 17. We all refused to believe that he was dead. Everyday we would say things like “Where’s grandpa?”, “Oh he’s probably playing poker again” and other conversations to pretend he was still here. So one day my grandma gathers us all into her bedroom and makes us kneel around her bed. She then tells us that grandpa has passed away and we have to accept that. She said that as long as we pretend that he is still alive, his soul cannot go to heaven and he cannot be at peace. At that point we all started crying and bawling and then all of a sudden!! This really strong smell of gardenias starts floating around the room. The smell was so strong it was enough to make all of us stop crying and ask “What is that?” and my grandma said “It’s your grandpa, saying goodbye”.
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