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I Swear It's Non Nunsense (and other stories)

Heather, NJ, USA
June 2004

I have a few stories to share, but the most chilling of all are the occurrences experienced at my mother’s old job.When I was about eleven years old, my mother had to work two jobs to get her way through nursing school. One of those jobs was at a nursing home for retired nuns, the majority of them German immigrants. My mother would tell me that work would get creepy sometimes when she was alone there at night, but she has always been kind of skeptical about spirits and such.

Unfortunately, many of the nuns began dying, dropping down like flies. Around Christmas, my Girl Scout troop visited the nursing home to sing to the remaining women.

After everyone left, I was alone because my mother was staying to work for a little while longer. I sat on the couch and turned to look out the window. When I looked back, the rocking chair was moving and I saw one of the familiar faces of the home. I said hello to the sister, but she didn’t reply. I ran out of the room and told my mom about my freakish experience. She told me that that particular nun had recently died, and I must have been looking for stories to tell since she had informed me that many nuns were dying. Well, after a few weeks, my mother shared with me that maybe I wasn’t making it up. One nun that had made quite a lot of noise, banging her bed and moaning, in life was carrying on in death. After she died, other nurses would begin to hear quite a racket. In another room that was locked (as all the doors were locked after a passing), lights would flicker on and off, the windows would open and close, and the door would constantly be discovered unlocked.

Another night, when my mother was again alone, she had to venture into the basement to dispose of the garbage. Downstairs was the kitchen and a dining room with a piano. First, she saw eerie red eyes in the basement near the garbage disposal. As she ran up the stairs (the elevator mysteriously stopped working), she heard the piano being played. Needless to say, she quit working there soon after, on account of her creepy experiences and other factors.

There have been some other chilling experiences within my family. My uncle visited my great grandmother in her Pennsylvania home. She was in a back room and heard my uncle talking to seemingly nobody. When she came back, he was asking why grandpa wasn’t saying anything. She told my uncle that great grandpa had died a few days before, but I guess he didn’t get the news. He couldn’t believe it: He was convinced he had seen grandpa sitting it the rocking chair in his favorite flannel shirt. The next day, my uncle’s cousin whom he didn’t get along with and therefore never talked to visited my great grandma and the SAME THING happened to her! Granny decided to get her house exorcised, as there were even ghosts in the attic.

When I was in fifth grade, I had a best friend. We’ll call her Jane. One day, my parents were at work, my sister was at her friend’s house, and my brothers were visiting my grandparents; in other words, we were home alone. We turned on the radio to our favorite station, Z100, and ran outside to play on the swing set. We realized that the radio was inaudible from where we were playing, so I asked her to go inside and turn it up. As soon as she went around the house, I immediately heard the radio get louder. She came back a few seconds later. This was very creepy. I asked her how she got in so fast, but she said she hadn’t touched the dial. No sooner did she say that then the station became static-y and it changed to a completely different song! We dashed inside and watched as the dial turned (by itself) from station to station. I stupidly told Jane that I thought my house was haunted. Suddenly, the blinds started moving strangely, not from the air because it was a humid summer day, not a windy one. We ran out of there, no questions about it.

Months ago I was reading the site’s amazing stories. I was home alone with my sister. I became very freaked out from the tales, so I decided to walk on the treadmill that was temporarily in my dining room. I looked in the kitchen and watched the door to my grandparents’ apartment open. The only problem is that the door is not normal; it slides open. Meaning the wind could not blow it open, and my sister who was sitting and watching TV could not have possibly opened it.

There are so many stories to share, but I will only share one more short one. The other night at dinner, my mom and I both randomly looked in the dining room from the kitchen and saw a black cat zoom across the room. My mom, brother and I are allergic to cats. We don’t have any. But the lady we bought the house from did. She had at least 5 or so.

Thank you for taking time to read this.

Heather, NJ, USA
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