It's True, We Really Do See Ghosts (In The Company Of Ghosts)

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It's True, We Really Do See Ghosts (In The Company Of Ghosts) Page 1

by Dorothy Elizabeth Malthouse




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  IT’S TRUE,

  WE REALLY DO SEE GHOSTS

  Very True ghost stories

  Volume 2 of the series

  IN THE COMPANY OF GHOST

  By: Dorothy Elizabeth Malthouse

  From the author of, IN THE COMPANY OF GHOSTS (kindle) comes another ghostly book from her series of books, where she shares true accounts of hers and other family member experience of seeing ghost.

  In this book, read the fascinating story of Dorothy’s first ghostly encounter as told to her by her mother. Be drawn into “On a cold winter’s night” as not only Dorothy, but her mother, father and three brothers, saw a young woman stepped off the side walk, stopped in front of the car, nodded, smiled, turned, took two steps and disappeared before their eyes. These encounters are true. Believe it or not, they actually happened.

  Written by: Dorothy Elizabeth Malthouse

  New York, United States

  SecondSight Publishers, LLC

  Artwork is copyrighted © by D. E. Malthouse and may not be reproduced without permission. For more information, regarding artwork prints featured in this book, please contact at above email address.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means__electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other__except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Copyright © 2012

  Printed in USA

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  Table of Contents:

  03

  Message from the Author

  In The Company of Ghosts

  06

  A Family Affair "On A Cold Winter's Night"

  10

  My first ghostly encounter

  18

  Nicole's First Encounter

  24

  Natasha's Woe "The Unwelcome"

  In The Company Of Ghost

  Introduction

  Message From The Author

  “ In The Company Of Ghosts”

  There are things that hold true to my life. There are things that do not change with age, location or life’s circumstances. One thing is that, I see dead people.

  Ironically, some years ago, I shared my story of my ability to see ghosts with someone, and their response was, “too late, the sixth sense already happened.”

  I chuckled at their comment for several reasons. My story is real. The sixth sense depicts one tiny segment of my many encounters with dead people. How unfair is it that a fictional story should outweigh something that actually happened.

  His response, also reminded me of what happened at the theatre the first time I saw The Sixth Sense. I possible spoiled it for the 50 or so people sitting in earshot of me in the theatre, because less than 20 minutes into the movie, seeing it for the first time on opening night, I subconsciously said, loudly ‘He is a ghost”. I could have kicked my own self at that moment. Although many of them wanted to kick me out of the theatre. There were those who were amazed at the fact that I had figured this out. I could not explain how I knew. Somehow, I just did.

  Chapter 1

  A FAMILY AFFAIR

  “On A Cold Winter’s Night”

  London, England

  Late 1970’s

  Growing up I knew for sure that my mother and one of my brothers had the ability to see dead people too, but on three occasions, not just us three, but my other two brothers (who take no claims to seeing ghost) and my father also saw a ghost.

  This is one such incident.

  The bleak English weather was evident that winter’s night. My mother and father had their own conversation going while my brothers and I giggled and chatted about the night’s event. We paid no attention as my father maneuvered the car through the narrow London streets. All we knew is that we had a terrific time at Aunt E’s. As dad turned unto our street, mom told us to make sure we had our hats and scarves on.

  As usual, there was no parking space directly in front of our house, so dad drove a little way down. Seeing a space, dad, slowed the car to prepare to pull into the space. He started to turn the wheels to maneuver the car in the space. As if appearing from nowhere a young woman was standing on the sidewalk, preparing to cross the street.

  For some reason, none of us questioned why we did not see her when the car first pulled up. Maybe because it was rather dark and the streetlights shun dimly against the night’s fog.

  My mother commented as to why was this young woman out by herself this late at night. My father beckoned to her to cross. She nodded as she stepped into the street and started to cross, halfway across, she stopped directly in front of the car, turned towards the car, nodded, and smiled. My brothers and I waved and giggled.

  Thinking that she must be crossing the street to enter one of the houses, my mother said, “Let’s wait until she is safe inside”

  The few seconds that she turned and looked at us, we saw nothing unusual about her. Nothing odd about her long maxi coat and her chunky knitted hat pulled over her long auburn colored hair. We all saw her, so there was nothing to prepare us for what would happen next. She turned from the car and took one, maybe two steps, and just like that, right in front of our eyes, she disappeared. Just as mysteriously as she had appeared on the sidewalk, she was gone. We all saw her.

  My mother and father looked at each other, and then back at us. Dad proceeded to park the car. My brothers and I got out of the car; we clung to each other and to our parents for dear life. None of us said anything.

  As soon as dad opened the front door, my brothers and I headed for our parents bedroom. We jumped into the bed and under the covers, fully dressed with shoes and all. Mom and dad only removed their coats and shoes and laid on either side of the bed, been careful not to lay on us. None of us stirred until the next morning.

  Weeks after the incident, my brothers and I were still talking about it. Mom and dad asked neighbors about the young woman, but nobody knew of her. Mom wondered if possible she had been killed there but could not find anything out.

  Eventually the incident became just another ghostly encounter that we would remember and talk about now and then.

  Although my other two brothers, who don’t take claim to even believing that there are such things as ghost, still hold true to their belief. They have never denied that the incident actually did happen.

  Chapter 2

  MY FIRST KNOWN ENCOUNTER

  “The Lady Over There”

  Early 1960’s

  As told to me by my mother

  At the tender age of two years old, I had what is probably my first encounter with a ghost. I have no recollection of the incident. I can only relay it as told to me by my mother.

  My mother and father lived a small one-bedroom flat in Kilburn, London. My brother and I slept in the bedroom. My mother and father slept in the living room on two foldout beds, which they pushed together at night to make one large bed.

  On this particular Friday, my father was away working. My grandparents had taken my brother for the weekend. My grandparents wanted to take me too, but my mother decided to keep me with her. My mother was six months pregnant with my second brother.

  My mother spent the day doing chores and relaxing. Later that day after giving me a bath, she got me ready for bed. She read to me until I drifted off to sleep. She tiptoed out of the room. She too went to bed. She heard my screams. She jumped out of the bed and dashed to the room. She entered the room she switched on the lights. She scooped my trem
bling frame up into her arms. I held on to her tightly and buried my face into her chest. Her first and only thoughts were that I had a nightmare.

  She held me until I was calm, but fidgety. For some reason every now and then, I would raise my head from the comfort of her armpit. Look over into one corner of the room. Then I would quickly bury my face into her armpit again. Eventually I feel asleep in her arms. My even snores assured her I was fast asleep. She laid me in the crib. Turned out the lights and tiptoed out of the room. Moments after she pulled her covers over her body to go to sleep, again she heard my screams.

  This time she found me standing in the middle of the crib, pointing to the same corner of the room that I had so intently peeked at before. Between my bellowing screams, she managed to decipher my words. "Lady Mama! Lady!"

  My mother’s first reaction as she scooped me up in her arms was to laugh. She could not laugh; she saw fear in my eyes. Something in the corner was causing me to be terrified. She did her best to comfort me.

  "No lady" she whispered as she comforted me. "No lady, sweetie. Mummy’s baby had a bad dream." No amount of soothing, stopped me from pointing and saying repeatedly, "Lady! Lady o' dare"

  Once again, my mother managed to calm me down. Again, I fell asleep in the comfort of her arms. With my snores again even and quite, she laid me back in the crib and tiptoed out of the room. As she left the room, she switched off the lights.

  It could have been hours or even minutes later, when again screams interrupted her sleep. She first thought the screams where in her dreams, and her body refused to raise itself off the bed. She soon realized that those were screams of her terrified child.

  As she entered the room, she switched on the lights. She froze in disbelief. I was standing in the middle of the crib, soaking wet from head to foot. Again I pointed in the same corner of the room as I had done before, and repeatedly screamed "lady throw' wawa" My mother scooped my shivering body from the crib.

  For the first time, she had a strange sense of feeling that someone was looking at her, but quickly brushed her feelings aside. She felt a cold wind swiped passed her and exited through the doorway. "Lady gone, mummy" I blurted out immediately pointing towards the door.

  As my mother removed, my soaking wet clothes, her mind race with a thousand and one scenarios as to how I could have peed on myself, so much so that I was dripping wet from head to foot.

  After changing me, she put me in her bed. She went to remove the wet coverings from the crib. Her body shivered as she realized that the crib sheet, my blanket, pillow and comforter were all crisp dry. Not a drip of

  No sign of wetness. She climbed into her bed, pulled me close, and soon we both fell off to sleep. My mother left all the lights on.

  Not even the rays of the early morning sunshine could awaken her. We both slept well past 10: am. The night’s event plagued her mind. As she fed and dressed me for the day, she listened to me talked about the woman, and my constant question "Who lady mummy?" "Who lady?" The only reply she could give me is that I had a dream. If not for the wet clothes and towel that she found in the bathroom sink, she too would have been convinced that it was a dream.

  Later on that day, as my mother watched me play in the back yard, Mrs. Anne Seymour, the kindly elderly owner of the house came out and sat to chat with my mother. Mrs. Seymour liked my mother and had unofficially adopted me as one of her grandchildren.

  After Mrs. Seymour finish smothering me with juicy kisses on my cheek, I blurted out.

  "Lady put wawa on me, Grangran." I said.

  "Oh my goodness," Mrs. Seymour gleefully responded, "Did you get wet?" I nodded, and kept talking. "Lady nose." My mother noticed a sudden change of expression in Mrs. Seymour’s eyes.

  "That's enough now." My mother said to me.

  "No let her go on, please." Mrs. Seymour begged.

  I pressed my finger to my nose and threw my arms wide open. “Lady nose so big grangran," I said. My mother again noticed the sadness in Mrs. Seymour’s eyes. My mother became confused at her reaction. My mother did not know how to handle the moment, she did not understand, so she quickly excused herself, scooped me up and went back inside.

  Later on that day, a more composed, Mrs. Seymour, knocked on my mother’s door. My mother invited her in. Mrs. Seymour, told my mother, that the woman I saw was her daughter, Maud, who had died twenty-three years earlier. Maud was born a retard, and had an oversized deformed nose.

  As Maud grew up it became more difficult for her to manage her, especially after she developed the habit of filling a bucket with water, walking around with it, and without notice would throw it on someone of choice. After a while, Mrs. Seymour figured out that Maud threw water on people she liked. People did not take kindly to this. Maud died of new pneumonia at age nineteen.

  After Mrs. Seymour left, my mother sat on the bed and stared at me. She wasn’t sure what she felt, all she knew was that, her baby girl had inherited “the Gift” or “the curse” that she, her mother, her grandmother and so many others in her family had also inherited. I had the ability to see dead people.

  Chapter 3

  NICOLE’S FIRST ENCOUNTER

  “Man In The Chair”

  Around 2001,

  Los Angeles, California USA

  I am not sure at what point my daughter started to see ghost. Therefore, I will tell of the experience that I know for sure that she did see a ghost.

  In 1999, I moved to a two-bedroom apartment in Woodland Hills, California. My daughter, Nicole was fourteen at the time.

  I am not sure, why one of my co-workers at my new job offered me this armchair; she claimed to have had in her family for a long time. I had new furniture in my apartment, but for whatever reason, she offered me this chair, and one Saturday morning as promised, she and her husband brought the chair to my apartment. Not long after she gave me the chair, she quit the job and moved to another state.

  I honestly did not like the chair. I pushed it into a corner, with a promise to myself that I would get rid of it as soon as I was able to.

  About a month or so later, I almost tripped over myself as I screamed and ran for the entrance door because there in the chair, was a man sitting in the chair.

  My heart pounded as I took the chain off the entrance door and pulled it opened. Then I took a pause as I realized that I had just taken the chain off the door, so obviously, he could not have entered the apartment thru the front door. I also knew that all my windows had security locks, and I never open them for any reason.

  As I pulled the door shut, I knew what had just happened. In fact, had fear, not overtaken me. I would have taken note of the fact that he was a very old man.

  Not long after that, I saw him again. This time, I paused and looked at him. I saw that he was indeed an old man. He was tall and thin. He sat in a commanding position, straight and upright. He wore a dark grey buttoned to the neck shirt. His long arms rested firmly on the arm of the chair. I looked at him, and his stare fixed on me just the moment he dissolved into nothingness.

  After that, I saw him many more times. I said nothing to Nicole. I did not want to frighten her. One morning, I awoke early. For the first time, I sat in the chair. I then attempted to position myself the same way I always see him sitting in the chair. Moments later, Nicole entered the room and said, “Oh mom, you are sitting in the chair just like the man who is always sitting in the chair.”

  “Oh, God no” was my reaction, “You have it too.”

  Chapter 4

  NATASHA’S WOE

  “The Unwelcome”

  October 2012, New York, USA

  For the ten or more years that my brother, his wife and my nephew and niece have lived in their apartment in New Rochelle, New York, poor Natasha had the unfortunate predicament of having this old woman to come in her room at least once a week.

  Therefore, when Natasha turned twenty-two, she decided that she would go out and get her own home, really for no other reason more than it means she would get
away from her unwelcoming friend.

  The week before the terrible hurricane Irene storm hit New York City, Nicole and I, took a rare mother and daughter trip to the big apple. We made the mistake of prolonging our visit, and that resulted in being caught in Hurricane Irene.

  Stranded in New York, Nicole and I decided to go and weather the storm at Natasha’s new place of residence in Tarry Town, New York.

  The one bedroom loft apartment was just suited for one person. But for a bed and a chair, there was no other furniture, so we had to camp out on the floor.

  It must have been the third or fourth night, Nicole had gone to the bedroom to lie down and eventually fell asleep. Natasha and I sat on the floor in the living room and talked into the wee hours of the night.

 

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