Do you believe in ghosts?
I have always had this fear/wish to find myself living in an old haunted house some day. Ghost stories have captivated me for as long as I can remember – but I’m not sure if I would be terrified or fascinated to find myself living with someone stuck between the “here” and the “hereafter”. Probably both, although if I had to guess, I think I would likely lean a little more toward the terrified side. I may love a good scary movie, but that’s because I can tell myself it’s just a movie.
One day years ago, I was having lunch with my aunt and a few of her friends when for some reason they all started telling their own personal ghost stories. Stories about music playing from radios that weren’t turned on, and keys that would go missing and then just show up in the middle of the floor, and phantom dogs, and mysterious knocks on the door at night. I can remember sitting at that table thinking, “this is the best day ever!” Their stories were so darn good.
Truth be told, I’m not even sure I one hundred percent believe ghosts exist. But I have experienced a thing or two that I have no real explanation for. So in the spirit of Halloween, I thought we’d have a little fun and share ghost stories today. 😀
Years ago, I woke up in the middle of the night to see my boyfriend taking off his hat and placing it into the closet. He worked nights and usually didn’t get home until after I left for work in the morning, but I just assumed he came home early that night so I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. When I woke up a few hours later to get ready for work, not only was he not in the apartment (which happened to be the first floor of an 1800’s Victorian house), he hadn’t been home that night at all – not to mention, he never really wore hats…
Could I just have been dreaming? Maybe. But this was seventeen years ago, and I can still see the shadowy outline of that man standing in front of the closet in my bedroom as if it was yesterday…
Or there was the time my aunt and I decided to go check out a huge old house in town that was for sale. It was vacant, and we were both licensed realtors at the time, so we thought we’d take a look one afternoon. It too, was an old Victorian house – and it was stunning. It needed some work, but all the amazing details were still there – we’re talking original woodwork that had never been painted, hardwood floors, fireplaces, pocket doors, an amazing staircase, leaded glass windows, and on and on and on. Despite the beautiful sunny day, it definitely had a creepy feel to it, but sometimes empty old houses are kind of creepy, right? We walked around the first floor and then headed up the stairs to take a look at the second floor. Just as my foot was ready to hit the landing of the second floor, we heard what sounded like boxes being knocked over and things falling onto the floor from one of the bedrooms.
I, of course, turned around and ran down the stairs and out the front door as quickly as I could (this place was supposed to be vacant, right?), leaving my aunt laughing hysterically on the staircase. Eventually she talked me back into the house so we could finish our tour – which we did and never heard another noise.
But you guys, there was nothing – and I mean nothing – in this entire house. No boxes. No furniture. No personal belongs anywhere. Not so much as a hanger in any of the closets. It was as empty as it could be. The rumor was that the seller had purchased the house a year or two prior and during her first night there something happened that not only scared her straight out of the house, but also caused her to immediately put it up for sale without ever setting foot back inside. All I know is that we covered all three floors and the basement and could not find one single explanation for what could have made so much noise…
And then there’s the day my own house had the unexplainable happen. Yep, my cute little cozy house that you read about on this blog. Before we moved in, we wanted to get the floors refinished and as much of the painting done as we could before we filled the place up with stuff. One afternoon, we had taken a break from working, when I left the kitchen and walked into the living room to look at some paint samples that I had lined up on the fireplace mantel. I could no longer see into the kitchen from where I was standing, but I could hear Jordan trying to shut the door to the little powder room that is on that side of the house – the door would stick and could be difficult to get open and closed sometimes. Then I heard him run down into the basement – I assumed he had finally had enough of that door and went to grab something to fix it.
I walked around the corner to see what he was going to do, only to find him leaning against the kitchen counter – which is exactly where I left him a few minutes before. He asked me what I had been doing to make all that noise. To which I replied that I thought he had been making all the noise. Neither one of us had made any noise.
We walked through the entire house from top to bottom, trying to see what could have fallen or what could have possibly caused so much racket, but we found absolutely nothing – we weren’t living here yet so the place was more or less empty. Aside from finding out a few days later that the neighbor kids referred to our house as the “haunted house” (it was vacant for a long time so it was always dark and a bit neglected and probably did look like it could be haunted), nothing strange or spooky has happened here since. But I still have no explanation for what made such distinct noises that day…
Are there logical explanations to all of these stories? Probably.
Were they really ghosts? Doubtful – but it’s definitely more fun to think they were.
Now it’s your turn. Have you ever had a run-in with a ghost?