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Real Ghost Stories Page Six
These real ghost stories just came in. Enjoy!
Real Ghost Stories #39
"I've had many experiences with ghosts in my house, but none of them have been human. In fact, they're all feline, and I enjoy their presence greatly. The particular cat ghost that this story is about is named Flake (originally short for "Snowflake", but changed when we realized he was really a pale orange and not white). �He lived a normal life for ten years, and then suddenly, over the space of several months, his entire back end stopped working. It turned out the 10-year-old cat had a tumor on his spine. There was nothing we could do. So we knew where he was the last few nights of his life and could make him comfortable, he had been staying in one of our bathrooms on the plush rug. And he was a flighty cat as it was, normally... he didn't usually like to be touched (unless it was on HIS terms, as in, he jumped into your lap, yes, you could pet him... but don't try to chase him down to pick him UP), and was afraid of every new thing that came at him. �I was a new thing, and he was afraid of me. We had a nice vet who agreed to do an in-home euthanasia for us, so Flake wouldn't have to endure a car ride to a place that terrified him. The night before the vet was to come to put him down, I was in the bathroom with him, because my adopted sister was in the bathroom we usually use. I was sitting on the toilet, and suddenly Flake pulled himself over with just his front paws, and nuzzled his head against my leg. I reached down and petted him, then got off the toilet to crouch on the floor and pet him... and he let me. His last day alive, he accepted me into the family. It made me happy and sad at the same time. Fast forward to the one-year anniversary of the night before he had to be put to sleep. �That afternoon, as I went into our parent's bathroom (the other bathroom's toilet seat was broken), I saw him incredibly clearly, lying on the rug in the bathroom. The same place I saw him a year ago, as he was living in the bathroom at the time due to his inability to use his hind legs. I blinked, and expected him to go away. When he didn't, I stepped into the room (I had to GO to the bathroom, after all) and shut the door behind me. Again, he was still there. So I started talking to him, letting him know that it was nice to see him, and asking him why he'd decided to come visit. I didn't really get the impression of answers from him, then again, I didn't really expect any. Squeak is the only ghost cat who's ever given me the impression of any kind of response, and that was just pictures and thoughts along the lines of �Hi. Sorry I missed you,� or things to that effect. �As I sat on the toilet, he stood up and moved toward me. His paws weren't pressing into the plush rug in there. Not that I expected them to, with him being a ghost and all, but that's just the kind of little detail I notice for no apparent reason. He did exactly what he'd done the night before he died, coming over and gently rubbing his cheek against my leg. I REALLY expected him to disappear now. I've never interacted with a ghost for this long before. And feeling his fur was the most surreal experience I've EVER had (even more so than when he brushed against me in the hallway about a month before). �I had a sudden fear that he was saying goodbye, for some reason, and started trying to convince him not to leave. He's been here for over ten years, and while his eleventh birthday passed without him physically present for it, I whispered a happy birthday to the winds that night for him. As much as encounters with him and the other ghost cats occasionally flip me out, I also can't imagine the house WITHOUT them... Especially Flake, who I feel very close to, despite having only known him for three months when he was alive. �I know my sister feels very close to Moe and Squeak (our other two active resident ghost cats) but I like Flakey Cat. I didn't get the impression from his continued nuzzling of my ankle that he was going anywhere, so that allayed my fear a bit. Without thinking, (he'd been there and basically SOLID for a good ten minutes by then... I'd pretty much stopped thinking of him as 'ghost cat', and just gone 'soft kitty' in my head at that point) I reached down and petted his head. I SWEAR that cat shed on me. I could feel the plushy fur sticking to my fingers. I kept petting him, though. And after I finished and moved to clean up, intending to kneel on the floor next to him as I'd done the night before he died, to pet him more thoroughly (it's hard to reach the floor from the toilet when you're as overweight as I am), but when I looked back down, he'd finally disappeared. It was actually a jolt, to be honest. I had hoped he'd stick around, and I could maybe (odd thought, but I WAS kind of sleepy) pick him up for the first time. �I never actually got to HOLD him, and only petted him three times. He was flighty and didn't really like to be touched, unless he WANTED to. Which was why that last night meant so much to me.� Kathryn W Santa Ana, CA USA
That was one of the most beautiful real ghost stories we�ve received. Thank you, Kathryn.
Real Ghost Stories #40
"I was laying on my bed at night about 10:30 pm. I looked towards the wall as I heard a noise coming from my daughter�s bedroom, and then I saw a big shadow coming out of the wall and started walking towards the window, she stood there and turned towards me! She stared at me for a few minutes and then stood next to me. She bent over and stared into my eyes, it was so cold I could not move at all, my other daughter was only one year old she was asleep in her cot next to my bed."
Linda London United Kingdom
Real Ghost Stories #41
�A couple of years ago, I ran across an old Ouija Board dated 1919. I remember how fascinated I was with an experience when I was about 10 with one, so I thought that this �board game� would be fun to fool around with again. My son, when he was very young, told me about looking out his bedroom window and seeing three �glowing figures� coming from the field toward his window one night. He also stated that they even entered his room and stood at the foot of his bed. He covered his head with the blankets thinking that they would go away, and when he uncovered his head, they were still there... then they vanished. I attributed this to a �bad dream� at the time. �There is this old, beautiful house on my property, built in 1926; the builder also signed and dated his name in the rafters in the attic. �Cool,� I thought, that he took so much pride in his work (like an artist) to do such a thing. Anyway, we were in this old house, working the Ouija thing and so forth. My son asked me to see if what he saw was real or not. We got an answer and alot more! The two people who were at the board knew nothing about this; in fact, they did not know the name of the road we live on or anything else much about this neck of the woods. �I asked if there were any ghosts who wanted to speak (not at all taking any of this seriously). YES replied the board. 'Who are you?' I asked. ANNA MILLS was the reply. As our guests worked the Ouija board. 'Why are you here?' I asked, and the plachette began to move quickly. I DIED HERE ON THE MUNGER SHAW ROAD. (Our guests didn�t even know the name of this road.) 'How?' I inquired. TRUCK, the board answered. 'How?' I asked. RUN OVER, Anna replied. 'When?' 1936. �At this point, I was having fun with this game. I did not at all take this seriously; after all, this thing is just a game. 'So if this is all true, where is your body so that I can bring you some flowers?' I jokingly asked. Her answer sent chills down my spine. YOU ARE THERE, she answered. 'What do you mean?' SKATTERED (misspelled by an 8 year-old), she said. MY AHSES ARE SKATTERED WHERE YOUR TRAILER HOUSE IS, she added. �She gave us a lot of information that night. She is with two uncles who are elusive, but protecting her. She was visiting them here when her death occurred. Things have happened after that as well than before. When I first put the trailer house where it is (now abandoned, for I am now living in the old house), my ex-wife and I heard the distinctive voice of a child crying - that I can say without a doubt. My ex also told me that she had seen a small girl one night fleeing out the door one late night (blew her off). And so did I one night when I woke up to use the bathroom, you know, through the corner of the eye, I attributed this to late night-half-asleep stuff. �We did the Ouija again with two other people, again the same conversation with this Anna Mills. I cannot find any records of her existence of her anywhere, though. Then again, out here in the sticks (especially back in the '30s, records may have not been so critical; heck, I know a guy that have two people buried in his front yard from back then; that's in the days when they did things like that). I did ask her who her uncles were, and she remained elusive on that info. �Okay, I know this all sounds really weird, and I did not believe a thing about all of this until about a year ago... I went for a walk, as I have quite often. I walked across the field on a winter moonlit night. On my way back, I distinctly saw two people 'sneaking' around the trailer. Thinking that someone was trying to break in, I approached one of them. I yelled out to them, what did they want, ready to confront the intruders. I swear that I was within 15 feet of the guy wearing a plaid shirt and bib overalls when he took an abrupt right turn and went right through the wall of the trailer house - right below my son's old bedroom. I could see each and every detail of his face, and the texture of his clothes! He looked just like a real person - that would 'appear' under a full-lit moon. �I stopped dead in my tracks, but somehow I was not frightened out of my wits as one would suspect. Rather a comforting feeling came over me. By the way, when I first called out to them, the other ran into the woods. All of this I merely attributed to suggestive thinking, thinking I saw things that I imagined and so forth. Perhaps it was a restless walk late at night and so forth. �About a month ago, I was visiting my sister and her family at their house miles away. Her daughter also had an old message board that her father found years ago in an attic of an old school that he once worked at. The planchette was missing, so for fun I went to work in his wood shop and made a really nice wood one for them. With her and her boyfriend at the board, I asked 'Anna are you here?' HI, RICK, the board replied. This really freaked them out! "'Tell us the story that you told me the last time we spoke,' I asked. Again, the same info that came up a year before. I did not reveal any of the prior things that Anna said to anyone there, but there it was, again the same. She said that I did see her once, and that she and her uncles did visit my son. I did not ask any of this, once the planchette began to move, she went on and on and on. I asked her if she liked what I did with the old house (it still looks as it did in the 30�s-except for the addition of electricity and plumbing), and she said that she felt at home. I asked her if she ever enters the house, and she said, NO. BAD MEMMORYS. (Again misspelled by an eight-year-old girl.) �Lately, at night through the corner of an eye, my son as well as I, have seen someone fleeting past the kitchen window. Even our dog sends an alert that somebody is here, when in fact there isn't. The last time I used the board (being a skeptic, I always have someone else use it) she said that she wanted to meet me along the edge of the field at one o'clock in the morning. 'Promise?' I asked. I PROMISE, she answered. �I never bothered. I'm not sure if I believe in such things, but it is fun to think about... Perhaps it is true!�
Richard I Solway Township, Minnesota USA
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