This is actually 3 short stories that take place over 8
years. They are not intended as a fright fest. They are
intended to make the reader think. Or wonder.
First story:
"I lived in a single level rancher in "Small town" British
Columbia for about 8 months. It was built on, what many
years before that, was a part of the still existing Indian
Reserve. I had a neighbor four houses away who came over
for coffee a few times(2or3)but no more than that. I took
it a little personally but she always welcomed me into her
home. I would find out why later. Upon moving into the
house there was nothing out of the ordinary, but maybe a
little uneasy.
Soon after, my then fiance became a member of a local
Service Club, and spent little time at home. That
combined with working in a winery for years culminated
into a "problem", that will tie into the next two stories.
Attached to the house was an old garage that was turned
into a rec room. This was the room that the noises and
some activity came from. He was never there to hear
anything, and if he did he never said.
It started with my son who was 7 at the time, telling me
he was scared.
It had been about a month that we were there. I asked him
what was scaring him but he could not say for sure "what"
it was, just that he was afraid. I sat down beside him and
proceeded to say his prayers with him. It was what my
mother did with me so I thought nothing of it. But they
didn't help him or me feel better. Later, I went to bed by
myself and tried to say the prayers that I had said all my
life.
I had heard noises in the back room previously to this,
like thumps and scurrying of feet, creepy but tolerable.
This night was different. The feeling of being threatened
about halfway through my prayers was overwhelming. I
stopped, curled up in bed, and lay awake till my fiance
came home. After that I never felt comfortable in the
house. I would try day after day to say my prayers to no
avail. The feeling of danger became stronger until I
finally gave up all together.
The worst visual and audible experiences that happened,
for me at least, was the sliding glass door in the
back room, slamming open, and on our last night in the
house my fiance finally admitted to something that
frightened him.
We were laying in bed with our headboard against the wall
that belonged to the newer addition which was the
back room, when from one corner of the "wall" to the other,
not the floor, came what could only be described as a
small child running very quickly along the wall. My fiance
said "what was that?", and I explained that it was only a
sample of what had been going on. He responded only with
a, "well I'm glad we're leaving in the morning then". And
my neighbor who wouldn't come over for coffee? She told me
after we left, that she couldn't bring herself to go, "in
there".
Second Story:
Shortly after moving into our new home we were married.
The new home was great, and peaceful. However my
husbands "problem" became worse. A year and a half later
he had drunk himself into an early death.
He went into the Hospital on a Saturday afternoon and died
Monday night. At about 5:45 am on Tuesday, just six hours
after he died, he came to me in my sleep. He was standing
there naked, and behind him was only darkness. He asked me
what had happened and I told him he had died. "Nooo" he
said bewildered. I said, I'm sorry sweety, "you
died". "No"! he said in an upset voice. I told
him, "Sweety, I'm sorry. You died, and you have too go to
God". "NO"! He screamed", and I woke up terrified.
Although I doubted it at the time, I knew when I saw him
for the last time, that he had not gone to God yet. It was
more then just make-up. It was like he hadn't left his
body yet. He was so angry and confused when he died that I
believe he was not willing to let go of this life.
Story Three:
"For about three months after he passed away I would dream
that he would get out of his coffin, and with his arms
outstretched come towards me, every time though, he would
be worse off physically. I prayed for him to find peace
because it was all I could do for him. I still do. In 1999
I lost my mother.
If you've ever wondered about life after death, then maybe
this will put your mind at ease.
I had a husband who died scared and angry and while lying
in bed at night to this day, though not as often, I feel
like someone punches me in the back, three times, hard. My
mother passed away happy and at ease. Later in the night,
after being punched in the back I feel a hand gently
rubbing my back until I fall asleep. The exact same thing
she used to do for me as a child. So you decide.
Paranormal? Or not.
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