Any personal ghost stories?

Question

i'm bored and i am kinda interested in personal ghost stories and stuff so has anyone got any for me? =)

Answer 1

This is going to sound crazy, but my mom thinks it's cool!

FIRST, let me say that YES, I do get 8 hours of sleep every night.

Okay. I was at my 6 yr. old cousin's T-ball game, and everybody went to the playground that was next to the fields right after. I was told to sit with my aunt's stroller because I didn't feel like playing and I didn't mind. I was just kind of staring into the empty fields and it was deserted. I just look at the park and I see everybody (my mom, my cousins, my brother, etc). I look back at the field and, get this, GEORGE CARLIN was standing there. No lie. He was smiling, he winked at me, then he FLIPPED ME OFF! I look back at my mom, thinking "Did she see this too?", but she wasn't looking. I look back, and he's gone.

The thing is, this happened about a week or two after George died.

I'm not lying. It freaked me out. I mean, if you were flipped off by a dead comedian, how would you feel?

Anyways, thanks for letting me tell about this experience! :D

Answer 2

PLENTY of stories here.  My email is [e-mail] if you want to hear them.  I'm actually part of a local paranormal investigation team, and that's where I've had my most intense experiences.  I'm sensitive to the paranormal, too.  I had a Civil War soldier try to contact me because I reminded him of his wife, whom he never saw again after he left for the war.

Answer 3

http://www.wirenot.net/X/

Great place for personal experiences.

Answer 4

except nightmares ......nothing else

except my grandpa saw one but the story is boring

Answer 5

One night before mom got too very drunk we decided to have a séance. We pulled the small table into the middle of the kitchen, placed chairs at three of the sides, turned off the lights, sat down and grabbed one another's hands. My mother began with a sort of giggling incantation…" Oh, might spirits of the dead hear my plea. Let the spirit of Elaine Hopkins come to me!"

     She repeated this chant 3 times. My little sister opened her eyes and saw that my mother's eyes were glowing with a bluish florescent sort of light. We sat there in the darkness. My eyes were closed tightly as my mother began to hum and rock back and forth. Then suddenly there came a loud screech from my little sister, "AAAAAAHHHHHHAAAAAAA!"

Sylvia got up and ran from the kitchen table to her room. Mom and I turned on the lights and went to her to see what could be the matter. We found her huddled under her blankets of her bed. "Mom, your eyes were glowing blue!" she shouted as we uncovered her head.

     "It was only a game!" mom retorted.

     "Maybe we should all get something to eat and watch a little TV and just forget about this séance c**p!" I stated over the murmurings of my sister and mom. (Maybe some things are better off left alone.) I thought to myself as I urged mom and Sylvia to the living room while I heated up some chilly left over from the night before.

     We all sat down ate mom's cruddy chilly and watched crappy old movies till well passed midnight. First mom went to bed. Then not long after my sister rolled off of the couch and decided that she too was going to bed. I turned to watch the last moments of the TONIGHT SHOW, with Johnny Carson and then I went to bed myself.

     I fell to sleep quickly. My soft, thick, baby blue comforter always had that effect on me. Soon I was in dream-land. It was just me and Donny Osmond singing together in the clouds of my mind.

     Somewhere there is the sound of someone crying. The sound infiltrates my happy dreams and I am awakened by the sound.

     "Boo-hoo-hoo, my poor children, Boo-hoo-hoo, my poor children, Boo-hoo-hoo, my poor children," the voice sobbed.

     I slowly opened my eyes to see a form of a woman walk though my closed door.

It was Elaine Hopkins the lady we had called with our séance. She was as if a wisp of her former self… there, but not completely there. She looked at me and as she was wringing her hands in worry then she cried…

     "Boo hoo, my poor children!" Over and over she cried this… "Boo hoo, Oh, my poor children!" Till I screamed in fright, running to my mothers room for comfort and protection.

     I woke my mother babbling about seeing Elaine and mom just moved over and said, "d**n it go to sleep!"

      I got into bed and found that my little sister was rolled into a ball at the head of the bed. I squeezed in trying not to wake her and fell asleep.

     The next morning I woke up and went about my day not saying a word about the previous night's events. Evening came and I went to my bedroom and quickly dragged out my mattress and took it into my mother's room to sleep on the floor near her bed.

     "What the heck are you doing?" she said as I started to make my bed on the floor.

     "I'm scared mom…YOU called Elaine's ghost now she won't leave me alone!"

     "You're imagining things. GO back to your room!"

     "If it's just my imagination why don't YOU sleep in there tonight" I retorted.

     She rolled her eyes, "OK then but you're gonna have to go back to your room sometime." She warned. This sleeping arrangement went on for several weeks till finally mom demanded that I return to my own room. (Although I knew she was going to have her "married" boyfriend over for a sleep-over.) I took my mattress back to my room and placed it upon the box-springs and frame that sat in the corner of the room next to my maple nightstand and while gazing longingly at my Donny Osmond poster that hung across the room I got ready for bed. I crawled beneath my thick, soft, baby blue comforter. As it covered me I felt at ease and prayed that the events of that dreadful night had really only been my pre-teen imagination. When my head hit the pillow I fell fast asleep.

     Soon afterwards I heard this sad moaning voice…"Boo-hoo, my poor children, Boo-hoo, my poor children." and then again, yet louder…"Boo-hoo, my poor children!" I opened my eyes to once again see the wisp of an image that was Elain Hopkins.She stood with my door closed tightly behind her wringing her hands and moaning over and over…"Boo-hoo, my poor children." Sitting up in my bed I look at this frightening apparition and simply state, "I can't help you. I am so very sorry that we called you but I can't help you!" With that she disappeared and I never again saw her again.