Holding Hands with a Ghost
by Brenda
(Canada)
My story happened years ago, when I was about 16 (I'm 42 now)... I was with my boyfriend at a friend's house. The friend's bedroom was in the basement, and we were all just hanging out listening to music, and waiting for a few more people before going out to terrorize the neighborhood on a Saturday night.
In the room was myself, my boyfriend Ron, Shawn (the guy who's room it was) and two other male friends, Chris and Jason. Shawn was laying on his bed on his back, hands behind his head - the head of the bed was pushed up into a corner of the room, with one side against the outside wall under the window. The couch that Ron and I were sitting on was facing the foot of the bed - pushed right up against it, so that we had to put our feet up on the foot of the bed. And the right side of the sofa, where I was sitting, was also up against the outside wall under the window. I was leaning against the wall with my right shoulder, and Ron was leaning against my left side, with his arm around my shoulders. On the other side of Ron was Jason at the other end of the sofa (because the sofa was longer than the bed was wide, he didn't have to put his feet on the bed, but could sit normally), and Chris was in a chair on the other side of the room.
So there we were - just "vegging out" as we used to say, listening to loud music, with the lights off except for a small lamp with a red bulb in it. "Mood lightning" I guess. (Teenagers.)
Anyway, I slipped my hand down between the arm of the sofa and the wall and found Ron's hand, which was very cold. I interlocked my fingers with his, and was wondering why they were so cold, when Chris, yelling to be heard above the music, began to speak to Jason about something. When he did that, I looked to my left, past Ron and toward Chris, to listen to what he had to say. While I listened, Ron rubbed my right shoulder, which felt very nice.
I was enjoying his little massage, and only vaguely paying attention to the conversation, when I thought to myself, "Wait a minute... something's not right here..."
You see... I realized that Ron was rubbing my right shoulder with his right hand, and his left hand was on my left knee, so.... whose hand was I holding down the side of the sofa? Shawn was at the other end of - the head of - the bed, Jason was at the other end of the sofa and Chris was across the room!
All my focus went to the hand. I had to be wrong! But, what else could feel like a hand, especially when your fingers are interlocked like that???
I felt the hair stand up all over my body but was too scared to move or speak. I was kind of paralyzed. But, it only took a moment for my brain to finally tell my body to FOR GOD'S SAKE, LET GO OF THAT HAND!
I released the hand, and immediately screamed at the top of my lungs in terror. I scared Shawn so bad, that he jumped up to a standing position on the bed fast and smacked his head on the low ceiling. Everyone was on their feet - I don't even remember climbing along the sofa and off the other side, but I was suddenly standing - we all were - crying with my head buried in Ron's chest.
The looks on the guys' faces would have been funny, if I wasn't so terrified. It took a few moments, but they were finally able to get out of me what had happened.
There had been stories about Shawn's house - that it was haunted - so the guys' believed me. I was the one who couldn't believe it. I'd been to his house many, many times and had never seen or heard anything before! Ever!
I wanted proof. They turned on the lights, shut off the music, pulled the bed and the sofa out from the wall and searched the whole room. They found nothing.
A couple of years later, I found myself dating Shawn, and there were a couple of little unusual and unexplained things that happened to me... but NOTHING like that night when I held hands with a ghost.
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You be the judge
by Kerry White
(Dyer, TN, U.S.)
A couple of years ago, I and two friends of mine were out cleaning windows from an art club fund raiser for our yearly art club trip. We were in a part of Rutherford that is traversed very much and we happened upon a cemetery. I'm sensitive about phenomenon and as we passed this cemetery I wanted to stop a moment. One of my friends is also kind of sensitive to these things and she will agree with me that she had felt something in this cemetery. It was unlike any I had been to. It was a family sort of cemetery, but spooky all the same.
The next events that happened, I can't explain and if you ask my friends they'll tell you the same thing.
We saw a shadow of some sort next to a stone. When we got back into the car, we turned it on and Motorhead's King of Kings was playing before we had cut the engine off. I knew and still know the lyrics by heart and what I heard from the song was not in the lyrics. I would know because I burned the song on CD. At this point he decided to get out of there. So as we were driving we came onto a small curve and we were going thirty miles an hour. Each of us felt the car jerk to the right and my head almost hit the window.
After that, my friend decided to check her glucose due to her being diabetic, but the meter wouldn't turn on. I was watching the whole time. She never took the batteries out and the latch never came off. She was confused as to why the Glucometer wouldn't turn on and I told her to check the batteries. When she did, there were no batteries at all. Two minutes later and I had the Glucometer the whole time and I had no batteries or anything and then I decided to turn it on and it did. I looked into the battery compartment and sure enough, the battery was there.
None of us had any idea where the battery was or anything.
After we stopped at our next stop, I was compelled to check the back and the rear left fender of the car. The car was dusty and there was nothing on there when we left, but when I looked, I saw two hand prints.
To this day, I refuse to go to that graveyard and I cannot deny that some freaky things happened that day that none of us could explain. Readers, you be the judge.
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