by Unknown
Little Girl in the Hallway
Houston, Texas
It started right after we bought our home seven years ago. One night, while completely alone in the house, I was in bed watching television. I felt someone watching me, and when I turned my head to the right there stood a little girl of about twelve. She just stood there looking at me. When I got up, she disappeared.
Weeks later, a friend was over at my house around 10:30 at night. My husband was asleep in the bedroom. My friend and I were sitting in the living room, when all of a sudden she looked over and said, "hi". I explained that my husband was asleep, and my friend said she thought she saw someone looking through the living room door. A few minutes later she called out again, because she again thought she saw my husband.
We always see people wandering through my hallway, and they only go one direction. It is very scary.
Voice in My Room
Houston, Texas
One morning at about 8:30, when I was 12 years old, I was lying on the top bunk in my bedroom. My sister had left the bottom bunk and was out in the living room with the rest of my family.
I heard a rustling sound from the floor, and thought it was one of my cats playing with something down there.
I said, "Is that you, kitty?" Obviously I wasn’t expecting an answer back.
But immediately in reply, I heard the voice of an old woman say, "No, it's me, Honey." I freaked and looked down to see that nobody was in my room.
I have heard voices in the house since then, but that was the most obvious and frightening.
The Rocking Chair
Houston, Texas
I am in possession of the only remaining piece of furniture that was owned by my deceased grandfather. He was a police officer in Houston and retired in 1972. He died in 1981 in his home in a very small town outside of Houston.
The circumstances of his death are not pleasant to remember, so I will not indulge the graphic details. I did however hear his last phone call to my mother and I also heard him die. It is something that will always be in my memory.
After he died, my grandmother refused to ever set foot back in the house and everyone pretty much divided the house. I was only eleven at the time, so a lot of the details are sketchy in my memory.
My father got a couple of items out of the house, including a set of rocking chairs that belonged to my grandparents. The chair belonging to my grandmother broke about eight or so years later, however, the one belonging to my grandfather was still operational, so my father chose to keep it, but placed it in the garage because my mom redid the den.
A few years after that, it was time for me to move out on my own, and so I asked my father if I could use the chair at my house. He agreed and told me to take care of it. This was one of my prized possessions. No one was allowed to sit in the chair other than myself. I still remember my grandfather rocking me in that chair.
A few more years passed, and I got married and had a child. My marriage was not one that I would call very happy. In fact, it was bad. My now ex-husband and I fought often. He worked nights and would have to leave by about 10:15 pm to go to work. Well, at 10pm COPS (the TV show) came on and it's something that I watched regularly. Most of the time I would watch from my grandfather's chair... except for the first night he came to visit me.
I had an argument with my now-ex, as usual, around the time that the show started, but soon after that he left to go to work. I was stretched out on the couch this night because of the draft in the room from the fireplace flue being open. I had covered up with a blanket and was watching the show.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the chair move. I figured it had been a breeze from the fireplace. I watched the chair moving slightly for the entire length of the show. As soon as it was over, the chair stopped rocking.
The next night there was no argument, but as soon as my ex left, the chair began to rock slightly again. This time I knew that it wasn't from the fireplace because the flue had been closed. Again after the show was over it stopped. This went on for about a week or so and I didn't tell anyone about it. I thought that people would think I had gone crazy.
About three days later, my husband had the night off and was in the den watching “Cops” with me. An argument ensued and not only did the chair rock, but it rocked violently, almost lifting the legs off the floor. My husband was facing it at the time and I had my back to it. I was standing about four feet away.
All of the color left my husband's face and he stopped yelling briefly. I asked him what the problem was. He told me to turn around. When I did, I saw why he looked so stunned. It shocked me and I ran to the other side of the room.
I yelled across the room, "Grandpa stop it!"
Immediately the chair stood still. I knew then for sure why the chair was rocking, and who was rocking it. I had always had my suspicions, but was never sure. This answered my question. My ex asked me how long this had been going on and I told him that it started after the last fight we had. It happened every night after that, but it had never rocked like that before. I also informed him that he must have really pissed my grandpa off!
The chair continued rocking off and on for a long time, but only during police-type shows. Remember, he was a police officer. It never bothered me after that, but I chose to make a phone call to my grandmother in California. She had moved there six months after his death. I told her about what had been going on. She told me a few things that kinda took me by surprise.
First, she told me that my grandfather loved me very much. Much more than some of the other grandchildren and that he had never rocked any of the other kids. Just me. I was the oldest granddaughter, and I was also adopted by my parents at birth. This I knew, but I had never known how excited he had been about me, and how he was so scared that my birth mother would come back and try to get me. He had even devised a plan to hide me from her in that case. I was completely unaware of any of this.
She also told me that he had come to her in her dreams almost nightly since this had all started. She said that he told her to call my father and have him check on me. She never did call my father. She just thought of it as a dream and had no idea of what had been going on. My ex made sure that none of the arguments that we had after that ever occurred around the chair or during police shows.
It was about a month later when I came into the den to watch TV and something happened that chilled me to the bone. That day, not unlike others, I had an argument with my ex. He had left early that night. I was glad that he went. I came into the room and started talking to the chair. I told my grandfather that I wished he was here, to help me be stronger and get my ex out of my life. I left the room during a commercial and had gotten the afghan my grandmother had made me to use as a throw over the chair. I had used it there before and actually quite often. I threw the afghan over the top of the chair, only to realize there was the form of a person underneath for a brief moment. Then it went flat.
From that day on I always kept something in the chair when it wasn't being used. A stuffed animal or folded clothes or whatever. I also made a phone call to talk to my grandmother and asked her to please talk to him about his visits and to please make them not so frequent. She said that she would, and apparently it worked. He would only come occasionally from then on. Usually only when I felt down or was upset or something.
I divorced my husband shortly after that and started a new life. I never told my new husband about the chair. He was at home alone one evening and decided to straighten up the bedroom (where I had put the chair). He had taken all of the items out of the chair and got into bed and started watching Law and Order. Guess who came to visit?! That's right. He came back to visit.
I then received a phone call to come home immediately. I came home to the story and a look of astonishment on my new husbands face. I assured him that it was all right, but to always leave an item in the chair.
We moved about six months ago, and there was no room for the chair in the new house. It now resides i
n my storage shed. I refuse to throw it away. I might want to visit with my grandfather again some day. By the way this is the only existing piece of furniture left from my grandfather.
Boy that Died in a Fire
Corpus Christi, Texas
My family of six moved into a beautiful three-bedroom house. We were all excited about the new home. At that time my parents were having financial problems, so when we moved into this big three bedroom house we were all happy... not knowing what was to come out of that nice house.
Behind our house was a small guesthouse that was burned down.
Three days after settling in the home it started. After midnight every night the door to the bathroom would open up and you could hear the toilet flushing.
My sisters and I shared a room right beside the bathroom. We would get scared and cover our face with the blankets until we fell asleep.
A week after we were living there, my seven-year-old brother would sit in the living room floor and talk to someone that wasn't there. My mother would ask him who he was talking to, and he would say, "My friend."
We really didn't pay any mind to that. We thought he was just being a kid with an imaginary friend... until we all saw him throwing a ball across the room and the ball wouldn't hit the floor. The ball was being thrown back at him.
We all got so scared that my mother arranged for a preacher to come and bless the house, but it would be a week until he could come. So, my mother brought a lady over that was supposed to be psychic. She walked through the house and stopped in the middle of the hallway and started talking to the spirit, asking him why was he there and what did he want.
She told my mother that he had died in the guesthouse behind our house, and he just wanted to play with my baby
brother.
We were all so scared; we all slept in my mother's room. The preacher came over and blessed the house, but it didn't work because my brother was still playing with him. You could even see that someone was jumping on the sofa but no was there.
We ended up moving out a month later. We were all too scared to stay there and scared that something would happen to my brother.
I wonder of that boy is still there. We never went back to that house.
Apartment 1204
Houston, Texas
This particular story happens to be one of many encounters that I experienced. I come from a family with 3 sisters that are all attuned to these, what should we call them? Happenings?
From 2002 through May of 2004 my husband and I were living in an apartment on the north side of Houston. One evening while in the kitchen together cleaning up after dinner, our cat George came wandering in to eat his own dinner. While standing there I became very uneasy and had a feeling someone was watching me. I looked up to see the same unease apparent on my husband's face. George too felt something and puffed up his hair and his eyes went wide with fright. All three of us -- the two wary humans, and one scaredy cat -- looked toward the entrance of the kitchen and felt such a powerful need to flee! The cat, of course, ran out first but was quickly followed by my husband and myself. What it was we did not know but felt that whatever it was wanted us gone.
Our logical brains of course tried to dismiss this as all a part of our imagination. However, a few months later cleaning up in the kitchen by myself I looked up from my scrubbing to peer in the mirrored backsplash. Seeing a man walking down the hallway from the living room towards me I saw an opportunity to catch my husband as he tried to sneak up on me. You see he likes to startle me... he thinks it's funny. So I wheeled around with my hands out and ready to proclaim - Ha! I got you! I see only the empty hall. What I did see at the end if the hall was my husband sitting in a chair in front in the TV, playing a video game... and wearing headphones!
Our two years living in this apartment, we never slept with the door open from our bedroom that leads to the hall and to the kitchen.
It always felt like someone was watching us. We also argued and went through toughest times in our marriage while living there. The apartment was so full of negativity.
Our last night in the apartment... we had our moving truck all packed up for the big move to New York so very few items were left. We were squaring away for the evening... so we brushed our teeth and put away our toothbrushes and paste in the medicine cabinet. We were setting up the air mattress in the living room and I walked into the bedroom to grab the pillows. As a fitting goodbye and good riddance our toothbrushes were sitting on our pillows.
Something in the House: The Little Girl
Seadrift, Texas
There have been times when you feel like someone's in the house, but you dismiss as, "I'm just scaring myself, no one is here." Sometimes that is not the case.
I grew up in an old two-story Victorian style house. My brother David seemed to have extreme things happen to him there. (See that story, "Something in the House". As well as has the rest of my family.
My story isn't as intense as his, but still unexplainable. I was around 14-15 when this happened to me.
I was sleeping down stairs; the room I was in was the living room that was separated by the hallway with two glass French doors. At night I would shut the big wooden front door, as well as any doors in the hall way and turn on all the lights. I developed this habit when we started hearing strange noises in the house.
I had laid on the couch watching movies in hope that I would eventually fall asleep. My dad was asleep upstairs and had been asleep for several hours. As I started to drift off to sleep I heard what sounded like someone walking around upstairs with dress shoes on. They were just walking back and forth. When I looked at the clock it showed 12 o'clock.
"What is dad doing walking around upstairs with dress shoes on this late?" I wondered. The reason I thought this was because dress shoes make a particular sound on hard wood floors. The sound continued for another minute or two, then just stopped.
I stared into the hallway until my nerves settled a bit. I couldn't sleep after that. I couldn't convince myself it was just my dad. So I searched for a different movie that would bore me to sleep. Thirty minutes later I started to feel more at ease and relaxed enough to close my eyes.
Then the noise started again, but this time on the stairs. The steps were quickened and it sounded like some running up and down the stairs. The problem was is that the end of the stairs is so close to the French doors that led to the room I was sleeping in. I shot my head up expecting my dad to be going into the bathroom. However there was no one!
I sat up and told myself that I had to check to make sure! I was almost too freaked out to check, so I convinced myself dad was in the bathroom. As I knocked on the wooden bathroom door I was hoping to hear "yeah?" from my dad. When I opened the bathroom door it was dark with no one in there. I frantically rechecked all the doors in the hallway, making sure each one was properly shut.
I finally was able to go back to the couch, once I felt that everything was secure. I stayed up for another two hours. I knew that I had to find a way to go to sleep, so I laid down, covered myself with the covers and pushed my face into the crease of the couch. I slowly started to close my eyes when what sounded like a ton of books was slammed beside my head!
I shot my head up expected someone or something to be inches away from my head. No one was there, no books, nothing was out of place. My heart raced, someone doesn't want me to sleep. So I didn't. I stayed up until the light outside gradually got brighter. I didn't want to find out what would happen next if I chose to ignore the thing creating all the sounds.
I told my mom the next day what happened and she said it was probably "that little girl". Apparently she always wanted to play with my brother and I when we were little kids. I later found out that she died in our house and was kept in the closet underneath the stairs. My mom has said that she has seen her. She wore a dirty white dress and looked like she had been neglected. I guess all she wanted was someone to pay attention to her.
Cemetery Incident
Ho
uston, Texas
I lived in a small town a little south of Houston. The city was built in the area of an old Indian burial ground, so a lot of places were known to be haunted.
When I was in high school, my friends and I bought a glow in the dark Ouija board and decided to play with it one night.
I knew of an old cemetery that not a lot of people knew about. It was on a hill by a creek and to get there you had to take back roads. We thought this would be a good place to play. One of my friends had the sixth sense and was on the Montel show for it, so she came along.
We played on top of the hood of my car right along the edge of the cemetery. We picked up a spirit of a four-year-old boy but he only gave us his initials. He said that he was buried alive and that's how he died.
Just then the wind picked up and we heard crackling and whistling as if someone was behind us in the forest. The street we were on was dividing the cemetery from the forest. We asked the boy if he was making the noise and he said yes. We then asked if he was going to hurt us and he said yes. At this point we stopped playing and threw everything in the car and got out of there.
We were all scared. On the way back home we were driving, still scared, when all of a sudden we heard a big crash from inside the car. I asked, "What the heck was that?" and my friend said the pointer from the game just flew across the car and hit the door! If you heard the crash you would know that that piece had to have had a lot of force behind it.
So we stopped and decided to talk to the boy so he would leave us alone. We asked it what he wanted us to do and he started to spell D-I and then we all took our hands off cause we knew he was spelling die. We then prayed to lift his spirit up and dismissed the spirit then we threw the game in the dumpster.
