Thursday Chills: Ghosts Among Us

Continuing with my theme from yesterday’s post, I’d like to tell you a ghost story.  And not just any ghost story, but a TRUE ghost story.  One that happened to me.

Now I don’t claim to know everything there is to know about the Universe and the Afterlife and what ghosts really are.  Maybe they’re spirits of the dead, trapped between realms.  Maybe they’re angels come for a visit.  Or maybe they’re just residual energies bobbing around thither and yon for no reason.

But what I do know is that once upon a time I saw a ghost.  Or at least something ghost-like.  So, why don’t you sit back and relax while I tell you of my brush with the paranormal.

It was several years ago and I was visiting friends in a beautiful 17th century farmhouse in rural New Jersey.  That’s right.  The farmhouse was built in the 1600s.  Before America was even America.  Now if that isn’t a place ripe for haunting, I don’t know what is.

It was a cold night, the day before Thanksgiving, and we’d sat down in the living room in front of a roaring fire (The fireplace was seriously big enough to roast a cow.  Whole.).  I sipped carefully at my glass of wine, enjoying the rich, fruity taste.

As I sat there, glass in hand, staring into the heart of the fire I saw something out of the corner of my eye.  It looked like a ball of bright, weight light.  It felt like something more.

It went zipping through the room, high up near the ceiling.  Much as the lady of the house might bustle from room to room, making sure all was in order and her guests well cared for.  And really, that was the impression I got; that the energy was once the lady of the house.  Her benevolence radiated from her in waves.  She cared little for the mortals below, save that she was pleased her guests were enjoying themselves.

Almost as soon as she’d come, she’d vanished and I did not see her again.  Nor did I feel her presence.

Now lest you think I was drunk and seeing things, let me put you straight.  I am a lightweight, but even I can’t get drunk on two sips of wine.

Am I crazy?  Delusional? Perhaps.  Maybe I’m just over imaginative.  There are those who would certainly agree with that!

But there is no doubt in my mind I saw something  that night.  Though what that something was is anyone’s guess.

How about you?

Have you ever had a brush with the paranormal?  Have you ever had a run-in with ghosts?  Do you think that ghosts walk among us?

8 thoughts on “Thursday Chills: Ghosts Among Us

  1. An ex and I were touring a part of Mammoth Cave (huge cave system under the state of Kentucky) that I had never been in before. I felt weird, like someone was following me and watching me. I told him about it, and he knows the stories of my dad’s constant brushes with ghosts (Dad thinks it’s in our genetics), so he had me tell him what I felt. The presence wasn’t angry or sad, but I felt protected and loved. This presence literally wrapped itself around me and stayed with me from nearly the beginning of the tour until the very end. I’m terrified of the dark, but because of it, I wasn’t once frightened on this tour.

    We got to the end of the tour. The guide said, “Now, it’s time for our resident ghost story.”

    When the cave opened many years ago, during excavations they found the remains of a man they assumed to be Native American from the tools he carried. He had died in a cave-in. The tour guide said many “sensitive” people report being able to feel the man (I can’t remember what they call him) and it’s always a comforting, protective presence–as if he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt inside the cave.

    My boyfriend just looked at me, eyes wide, and said, “That’s f**ked up.”

    I’m a big believer in ghosts.

    1. That’s an amazing story! Wow!

      The feeling I had was similar but less … personal. I certainly had a feeling she’d protect the house and all in it. 🙂

      You know what we need? A campfire and hot chocolate with marshmallows so we can tell non-stop ghost stories!

  2. Once, as a teen, while alone in the house, I heard what sounded like really little kids (4-5 yrs old) jumping on my bed. I was talking on the phone while lounging on the couch in the “tv room” (also called the Florida Room, or some know it as a walled/windowed porch). This room was two rooms away from my room. I was not the youngest child in my family, but the youngest was my brother, who is only 15 months younger than me, so it wasn’t like I had younger siblings playing a prank on me. Plus… I was alone! For certain, alone. And it was the middle of the afternoon. And there were no televisions on. And none of the nearest neighbors had kids even close to that age.

    I was on the phone at the time. The moment I heard the squeaky mattress, the giggles, the soft whump of the pillows and comforter, I got chills. I listened for a short while before I was sure of what I was hearing. I told my friend on the phone, and made sure they stayed on the line, but stayed quiet as I went to check it out.

    The room was empty. However, there were about two dozen tiny footprints on my comforter, which was otherwise perfectly made (note: I never made my bed in those days). Two different sized feet (very close in size, but different). It looked just like two kids had jumped on my bed for about 10 minutes or more.

    As cool as it was… It seriously creeped me out. I grabbed my bag, my keys, got off the phone, locked the doors behind me and boogied it to my friend’s house.

    That was not my only experience… but that still shines as the most significant in my memory.

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