(NAME) james
(EMAIL) jinxz1@juno.com
(Location) chicago
(Story)Death at the Cemetary
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
My girlfriend and I couldn't get on a tour 'cause they were all booked up because of the halloween season, so we went out by ourselves. We started at the Woodlawn cemetary at like 8pm, then the one behind it they both don't have gates so we drove right in and took pictuers at random. Then to Resurection ,took pictures from outside the gate, then we went all the way out south to Mt. Greenwood, took pictures from outside the back road and a few more cemetaries around there. The last place we went to was St. Marys at 87th the gate was open at 10:00 which was strange enough, but the affect it had on my girlfriend was scary. She immediatly upon passing the gate felt we should leave and that got me also scared, so I was trying to follow the road out but it only took us deeper.
We made it out of there, and went home. We got home at like 11:30 and laid down in the bed, 10 minutes later my kithchen light turns on by itself, and stayed on...( that light doesn't stay on unless you hold the cord). That was convincing enough for us, so we went to the couch and watched cartoons. The next morning I turned on the news and saw a report that said 2 kids got shot to death in that last cemetary we were at,a few hours after we were there. AND I have some pretty interesting photos from the other places we went that night. Orange spheres,or lights.(you'd have to see 'em).
(NAME) KaraMieka Chamberlin
(EMAIL) mykingdom@hotmail.com
(Location) Vermont
(Story)Michael Adams
I was about 15 years old when my class started to study the Civil War. My teacher had given us names on a paper and told us that we should write a "biography" about the name. All the names were random names and we could use the text book to write something about a supposed Civil War person. On my paper, I had the name Michael Adams. I was walking home from school that day, with the paper in my hand and wondering what kind of character I should write about for my paper.
There's a path through the woods that I have to walk through to get to my house, which is also a short cut. On the path, there was a man standing in the middle of the path looking at me. I stopped and looked at him. He was about 5'9, skinny, black hair, and brilliant blue eyes. His eyes kind of glowed and I looked again. "He's wearing contacts" I said to myself. I looked at what he was wearing. He was wearing his Army dress blues. (For non military folks, he was wearing his very very nice Army uniform). But his uniform wasn't of those of any branch I recognize. (I am an Army brat, so I am used to seeing men in uniform all the time) I looked closely at the uniform. His belt buckle had US on it. Same belt buckle as those in the book we looked at in class. I figured that it was almost Halloween, that this man was running around in his Halloween costume.
The man and I just stood there, frozen like ice cubes. Without a word,he came up to me and took my hands in his. I looked down at his white gloves and looked back up at him. With him standing close to me, I felt cold. I removed my right hand from him and touched his face. As I touched his face, I couldn't feel his skin or feel the warmth of him. The only thing I could feel was his right hand on my left hand. I could see him perfectly. I must have had a puzzled look on my face, because he whispered, "Everything is all right." Still puzzled by what he said to me and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't feel him when I put my hand on his face, I looked down at his hand on mine. I never uttered a word, and he lifted my chin with his free hand. I could feel the glove and I could tell there was a hand in the glove. He looked into my eyes and said, "Don't be frightened. My name is Michael Adams. I am with the 3rd Light Artillery Michigan Company A."
He stopped short and looked over my shoulder, I turned my head to see what was behind me. He let go of my chin and my hand for only a second. I looked back at him, but he was gone. I turned back around and my friends were standing right behind me. I asked them if they say a man with me. They both said no. I knew it just rained the night before and the path was a bit muddy. I looked down to see if there were footprints, I moved just a bit to see if my footprints could be seen. Mine were,and only my footprints where there, along with my two friends who just showed up. They asked me what the matter was and I told them I didn't know.
I walked with my two friends all the way home, I was looking for the man in uniform. But I found nothing. I got home and no one was home like usual. Parents were off at work and little brother down the street at the babysitter's house. I sat down on the sofa in the living room and looked over to the sliding glass door that leads to the patio outside (which was the door I had come in through). The man in the uniform was standing outside the door. "Oh great, not only is he Houdini, he's also a stalker!"
I got up and pressed my nose to the glass, I was terrified of opening the door. I was also told not to open the door to strangers. The man started laughing at me and motioned me to open the door. At that moment my phone started to ring. I put my hand up, and mouthing "Hold on a second." I had gotten to my phone, which was next to the sofa. I sat on the sofa with phone in hand, and watched the man outside. The person on the phone was my other friend who lived in the next house over. My friend is home taught so he didn't go to school. I had him look out his window and asked him if he could see someone on my patio. The glass door and his window were in align with each other. I saw my friend open his window and look out to my patio. My friend said "There's nobody on your patio."
The man was leaning against the table out on my patio. Very obvious that he was there. I walked over to the glass window and I pointed to the man. Of course my friend was still looking out the window. Friend said he saw nothing. All the while, the soldier was looking at me. Apparently he didn't see my friend in the window. I told my friend I had to go. I opened the door and said to the soldier, "Can I help you?" He had this smirk on his face and walked over to me. He took something out of his pocket and handed it to me and I watched him disappear before my eyes. I looked down to what he placed in my hand, it was a locket. No pictures where inside of it, but on the back was hand scratched, "Forever Always".
I was still confused. Not knowing why my friends hadn't seen this man nor why he gave me the locket. I then went to the dinning room kitchen and got a pad of paper out and stuck the piece of paper, "Michael Adams" on top of the pad of paper. "Michael Adams...Michael Adams....wait a second, that soldier said his name was Michael Adams!" I said out loud! No way that he could have seen what was written on the paper at all. I took out my book my teacher handed me to look at about the Civil War. I flipped it open and looked at the page I opened to. The chapter was on soldiers who were missing in action. I put my hands on my head and asked to no one in particular, "What was your last battle that you fought in?" Still with my hands on my head and I was looking at the book, not really reading anything on the page, I heard, "I just fought in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania."
I looked over to where the voice came from. It was the soldier and he was sitting on the sofa. I got up and walked over to the sliding glass door and noticed it was locked. I locked it when I got back into the house. I turned back around and he was standing up in the middle of the living room. He pointed to my book and pad of paper on the dinning room table. I walked over to the table and sat down. He began telling me his life story of how he was an only child and he joined the army to fight in the war. He had a crush on a young girl down the street that he never told anyone and he didn't think he was worthy enough to be her suitor.I was writing this all down for my assignment. After I had my paper written, I looked over at him. The entire time, he stood in the middle of my living room talking. I got up from my dinning room table and walked up next to him. This was the first time where I noticed that he was almost transparent. Meaning....it was like if you were looking through a stained glass window. I lifted my hands up to trace the medal on his left side of his jacket. I could feel the cold metal of the medal and could feel the wool jacket that he was wearing.I then looked up at him and bit my lip. He had this look on his face that he was longing to tell me more about his life. He took my chin in his hands again, and whispered, "Whenever you need me, I'll be there."
I turned my paper in the next morning and later that day my teacher had sent me a note asking me to stop by to talk with her. I did so and the first thing she said to me was, "I met your Michael Adams." "What are you talking about?" half knowing what she was talking about. "Today in class, everyone was unaware of it, but Michael was at the back of the room. He came up to me and talked about you with me...." She started to go on and I know I turned sheet white. "He's a ghost..." I mumbled. "Between you and me, we have encountered a ghost who needs YOUR help." "My help?" I asked. Not sure where my teacher was getting at. "Look, I took the information that he was saying and what you have written in your interview with him, that you may be a link. Meaning,you have to do something for him to help him get to heaven!" I knew that was coming. From that day on, I have had Michael visit me and talk. I am now a history major attending college in Vermont. He visits me here on campus and several other people have witnessed him and even talked to him. What is so interesting is that I am a Civil War Re-enactor and just went to the 135th anniversary of the battle of Gettysburg. Guess who was there? Michael. While in Gettysburg, I had meet the 3rd Light Artillery Michagan Company A, all re-enactors. I didn't tell them anything about Michael Adams and that he was really with the 3rd Light Artillery Michigan Company A 135 years before. One of the men in the group, Dean, had a first hand experience with Michael, and Dean was totally freaked. Michael showed up next to Dean on the last day of battle field. Michael pointed to the woods near by and wanted Dean to watch him when he went to the woods. Dean thought Michael was part of the re-enactors and thought Michael needed to use the rest room in the woods. Dean watched Michael walk to the woods and vanished before the woods. Dean told me because I was a good friend of Dean's and he figured I wouldn't laugh at him.
I haven't seen Michael since that July 5, 1998. But I have the presence of him near me. After all these years, I have come to the conclusion that I was that sweetheart in my past life. If I weren't the sweetheart, then by some weird chance, Michael has fallen in love with a mortal. Only time will tell when I will find out the whole story behind Michael.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(NAME) anonymous
(EMAIL) anonymous
(Location) undisclosed
(Story)Black Chimp
My mother was living in this house and my grandmother was there to visit and I was already born of course, and all of a sudden out of nowhere my mother turned the corner of the house and she saw a jet black character the size of a chimp and it took the shape of a man, it just stood there doing nothing at all and then my mom started screaming and made me run in the next room with her and started to scream at my grandmother about it and all of us ran back in there and it was gone (disapeared) by the time we got back in there.
(NAME) Laurie
(EMAIL) bunya@redshift.com
(Location) King City, California
(Story) My name is Wally and Im an alcoholic
I grew up in a three bedroom house on Chesterton Street in Belmont California. And any time we had visitors, they slept in my room and I slept in my brother's room on his bunk beds. Well many a visitor who slept in my room would feel someone sit on the bed. The presence would wake them and no one was there. My father worked the graveyard shift and many nights my mother would sit in the family room in her chair, reading the newspaper with her back to the hall. Quite often she would hear footsteps coming down the hall and she would turn expecting to see one of her children needing attention. Instead there was nothing. This happened many times with my mother. And she had never heard any of the accounts from our visitors so she never said a word. Then one night my mother and father were reading the newspaper and again they heard the padding of feet coming down the hall. At the same time my mother and father looked and again nobody was there. My mother asked my father "You heard that too." He explained that he had heard those steps other nights as well. And that I believe is when we began to discuss the bazaar goings on in our home. One night my mother and father were awakened by a loud noise. They sat up quickly in bed. And above their heads something made the sound of a crash. They called the police. The police investigated and said that because it was the early hours of the morning and our grass was covered in dew there would have been footprints in our lawn and wet footprinst on our sidewalk. I think that was when we began to ask questions regarding the history of our house. We learned that a man named Wally died there. He was an alchoholic. His wife wanted him to quit drinking. But his strong will refused to quit and he hid his booze in my bedroom closet. His addiction must have been strong enough that his spirit was not able to rest without it and so it continued to visit my room even after his death. And I am sure he continues to look for his booze in that house today. Whenever anything out of the normal would happen we would say, "Hi Wally". When I picture that house I remember the kitchen door rattling with the chain. And it was like someone wanted to break in but there was a window in the door an we couldn't see anybody. And I think of him walking around checking things out. And I felt lucky to have a ghost in our house. For a 4 year old that was pretty cool. Not at all frightening. There was one instance that I never related to the ghost until I was older. But one night I had this terrible night terror and I was thrashing about in my bed violently. I smacked my head so hard against the headboard that my front teeth got wedged precariously in my gums and I had to wear a plate in my mouth to fix it. It was like they got shoved back up into my gums. I am not sure but I had this feeling when I got older that Wally was drunk and shaking me. When I was little I thought of him more as a night watchman. But who knows. I know there are other stories about Wally. But that is all of them that I remember.
__________________________________________________________________
MORE READERS SUBMISSIONS
HOME