gardenghoststories

[gardenghoststories]

remaking this poll bc i saw one like it that had limited options and was also ended… hopefully i’ve covered all the bases

[gardenghoststories]

Smtimes your house is haunted because there's a ghost sometimes your house is haunted because you miss grandma and your mom misses her even more sometimes your house is haunted because the subtext of how the last owners decorated rubs you wrong way sometimes your house is haunted because you've sublimated the fact that you didn't want to move in the first place and Sometimes your house is haunted because there's a carbon monoxide leak. Lots of options.

[gardenghoststories]

Okay yeah this is funny

Living in a haunted house is fun because I'll be playing a horror game and it'll mention ghosts and I'm always having to be like "no he wasn't talking about you get back in the porcelain doll"

[gardenghoststories]

Hold on I gotta oujia something

Living in a haunted house is fun because I'll be playing a horror game and it'll mention ghosts and I'm always having to be like "no he wasn't talking about you get back in the porcelain doll"

[gardenghoststories]

Some of the porcelain dolls got moved up to the attic a few weeks ago. This was done purely to help tidy things up but the ones that stayed downstairs don't seem too thrilled about it.

[gardenghoststories]

Living in a haunted house is fun because I'll be playing a horror game and it'll mention ghosts and I'm always having to be like "no he wasn't talking about you get back in the porcelain doll"

[gardenghoststories]

Have you ever heard of the “Ghostbusters Ruling?” In 1991, the New York Supreme Court decided that this house was “legally haunted” in a famous case known as the “Ghostbusters Ruling.” It is the only legally haunted house in America. 

Keep reading

[gardenghoststories]

I don’t have any too specific of a story to tell, but here goes anyway. My sibling and I have always been followed, no matter where we moved to, the ghosts from one house would follow us to the next. a father of a landlord passed away in my first home, he was always fond of taking care of kids, and every once in a while we’ll see him messing with the thermostat.

the next house, i don’t know how, but we picked up a pair of children, a victorian era girl and boy. i believe the pair are siblings, though if i get the chance i might try to look into it next time i see one of them. the girl tends to mess around with our stuff, even using a broken walkie talkie once to say hello. she’s by far more friendly than her counterpart, but we’ll see him every once in a great while joining in on the fun.

In our next home, we picked up two more, a young woman, who if i had to guess was mostly keeping an eye on us. she’s never done much, but i’ll look out of my room to go somewhere and see her staring back some nights. the other is… i can best describe them as a doppelgänger, but they never take YOUR form, always someone you know, instead. we saw them for the first time when playing hide and seek with some friends, in the dark, at night. at the end of the third round, we all met up, because one of my friends had called out to me to move out of the hallway. i was in the kitchen across the house. so we all headed over, and everybody saw someone else, nobody saw the same person, but seeing two of one person freaked out my friends. we never played hide and seek in the dark again.

next house after, we picked up a couple cats. based off of their coats, we were actually able to identify them as our childhood cats wandering around. even if i can walk straight through them, one would usually be resting on the stairs, or standing at the top, i’d always step over them instead of through them.

in our current home, the ghosts are usually a bit quieter, we don’t see them as much anymore, but they are still there. still messing with the thermostat at complaints of it being too hot/too cold, still playing around with anything new we bring to the house, still watching us to make sure we’re okay, still resting on the stairs or wandering around. every time, at least when i encounter them, i’ll greet them and continue on with my day, they live here with us, too, it’d be rude not to greet them when walking by.

[gardenghoststories]

My aunt used to be part of a cleaning service a few decades back in a quiet, seaside town on the Oregon coast.  She used to watch her grandson while her daughter was attending college. On occasion my aunt would bring him along while she cleaned and ran errands. 

The houses she'd clean were rental properties for vacationers, so no one was in them. They were very old houses from the 19th and early 20th century, some well known and some known to be haunted. 

One early summer afternoon she was folding and sorting laundry in the living room, with her very young grandson watching tv. It was a warm day, and she noticed a shimmering out of the corner of her eye, like heat coming off a road. She turned her head to see it in the kitchen, and it seemed to move. Her grandson noticed it too, smiled and got up, followed it. My aunt called him back, asking what he was doing, as she was unnerved by the sight - he said he saw someone and wanted to say hello. He was disappointed they weren't there anymore when he looked back.

[gardenghoststories]

everytime I hear about children of the corn I think about the guy I met at comic con who actually lived in the town they filmed that movie at, and on the farm where they filmed in the corn. he was a teenager at the time and him and his friends would get drunk on moonshine and rustle the corn and let the air out of the tires of the production team’s trailers and shit. and now there’s Wikipedia pages about how the children of the corn set was haunted and they thought they angered god but it was really just drunk hillbillies

[gardenghoststories]

Long before hospitals became commonplace, it was the local doctor who cared for the sick and the injured. Many worked out of their homes, making spaces for patients out of spare bedrooms and living areas.

My childhood home was, is, one such place. Its history dates back to the late 1800s, owned by a doctor well-known in the community. It was here that many patients were seen. It was here that many families said goodbye to the ones that they loved.

It is here that many chose not to move on.

They don't often make themselves known. This house has been home to many guests. It's too noisy to notice, most of the time.

But sometimes, when the rest of the living have gone off to work, or to run their errands, they slip out from the cracks and the shadows, curious things.

Sometimes the tv turns on by itself.

Or things disappear that were only just there.

The children are especially playful, mischievous and lacking in structure.

But She keeps them in line.

She is very disciplined.

She hates it when the children are frightened or upset.

I distinctly remember

Once when I was young

My father's anger was burning bright

Risen from a minor slight

His words were loud and cutting deep

Enough to rouse her from her sleep

With my cry she took as call

A portrait flew far from the wall

...

I should thank her when I see her again

[gardenghoststories]

I'm in the mood for a good story today my dears. I'd love to hear about some interesting experiences to get into the Halloween spirit.

[gardenghoststories]

This garden is looking like a graveyard, so here's some haunted asks to prompt some good stories:

💀 Have you ever felt followed in the dark but found nothing behind you?

🌲 have you ever been in a forest or similar and simply felt off?

🏚️ Are there any abandoned places where you live? What is the story behind it?

⛈️ what do the storms bring?

🎶 have you ever heard music from an unknown place?

🌃 have you ever been in a busy place late at night? What happened?

🪦 what lurks in your cemetary? Is it a place of peace or a place of concern?

⏳ what stories have stuck with you through the years?

🌙 do you have a dream you have never forgotten?

👀 what is their name? You know who we ask of.

❤️‍🔥 what was the moment that burned your heart?

🏡 what lies in your home?

[gardenghoststories]

Driving through the pine barrens always bring me back to my youth, and stories of the devil that roams these lands.

I was often afraid, growing up. It would make sense to be, but oddly The Jersey Devil was only a small blip of the radar, so to speak, a single shark in an ocean of much closer monsters.

Even still, I would always be wary in the pines, especially in my youth.

I wonder, as I gaze through these strange forests, if the thirteenth child is still out there.

The Pine Barrens are home to more than just a devil

But it only takes a devil to pull so many strings

[gardenghoststories]

Driving through the pine barrens always bring me back to my youth, and stories of the devil that roams these lands.

I was often afraid, growing up. It would make sense to be, but oddly The Jersey Devil was only a small blip of the radar, so to speak, a single shark in an ocean of much closer monsters.

Even still, I would always be wary in the pines, especially in my youth.

I wonder, as I gaze through these strange forests, if the thirteenth child is still out there.

The Pine Barrens are home to more than just a devil

But it only takes a devil to pull so many strings

[gardenghoststories]

When I was a child, I used to walk in my sleep.

Even then I was fascinated with the supernatural, with stories of ghosts and reapers. My family was well known for hauntings - to the point my great grandmother promised to haunt my great grandfather, and kept it.

Sometimes at night my mother would walk down the stairs, hearing a noise in the dark of the night

And she would find me

Standing in the corner

Talking in my sleep at something that wasn't there

[gardenghoststories]

A very interesting story. I should like to check this place out one day.

My True Ghost Story

The following is a true account of a paranormal encounter I had in Edinburgh Scotland on May 21, 2017. These are the notes I made immediately afterward; I have not edited them, but present them exactly as I recorded them at the time. Similarly, the photo is exactly as I took it in the vault - it has not been enhanced or altered in any way. Make of it what you will, but facts are facts.

===============

Wanted to make some notes about what happened today, while it's still fresh in my mind.

Jason and I visited the vaults under Edinburgh near the Southbridge. We were the only two people on the "Auld Reekie" tour, so the guide (a very friendly girl named Andrea, from Norway) dropped character and agreed to show us the rather large vault, with emphasis on the history and an honest (rather than sensationalized) account of any paranormal activity she may have experienced there.

The first couple of vaults were devoted to a discussion of why people lived there (sleeping in the streets was a hanging offense, and children as young as 8 were executed). The people were very wretched, living in filth and crime and terrible danger in near pitch darkness. No fire was possible due to the lack of ventilation. It must have been horrible beyond words - better to face the gallows. The second room was comparatively well lit, the meeting place of a Wicca coven devoted to cleansing the place of its negative energy. They had previously set up shop in a different vault further up the passageway but left right away and advised no one to be allowed to return there.

We headed up the passage to a room with a circle of boulders embedded in the floor. Andrea told us the priest of the Wicca cult had tried to cleanse this room but had to leave. Just then as Andrea was relating this we heard the sound of a door closing in the hallway. However, there was no one but the three of us down there, and I could tell from Andrea that this wasn't part of the act. She started into her story about this room when we clearly heard four distinct, equally paced knocks from what appeared to be the ceiling in the middle of the vault. I thought they came from above the circle of stones. She stopped midsentence and we asked each other if we heard that (yes we did.) The stones comprising this vault were very thick and we were a couple of stories below the street. We could not hear any street noises where we were, and apart from those sounds I didn't hear any other outside sounds. I asked Andrea if this was part of the act and she said no; I believe she was telling the truth, we were such a small group and she had no reason to lie or put on an act.

We then went to the final vault, which was pitch black with no candles or illumination of any kind. She said this was the only vault she was really afraid of and would not go in alone. She asked if we wanted a history story or a ghost story, and we asked for both - history first. While she was relating the history story I took a picture with my camera. The flash didn't go off so I reset it and warned her (she was in midsentence) that I was using the flash.

The camera did its preflash to focus. Then the flash went off and I captured the attached image.

I was looking into the vault (not thru the camera viewfinder) and I thought I saw something odd, a vertical thread of golden light that seemed to have greater thickness in the middle, with what appeared to me to be smaller extensions of light to either side about two-thirds of the way up from the floor. It looked like a vertical golden thread of lightning, but I only saw it for a brief instant then the flash subsided and the room was dark again.

I didn't think any more about it, figuring I would take a look afterward - I didn't want to interrupt Andrea again. We went into the vault and she told a good ghost story - it was a genuinely creepy room - and when it was over she was out of there like a shot. She really was determined not to be the last one out of that room.

After we left the vault I looked at the photo and was amazed to see those smudges. At first I thought they were on my camera screen but they moved when I scrolled the picture. I've never seen my camera do that before.

This is significant to me, I can rule out fraud or trick photography. I snapped that picture myself. What the camera captured is not what I remembered seeing, the golden lightning-like filament - it's odd in its own way. The camera was not moving because the background is in focus. There was nothing reflective in the room, but it is possible that some of the flash bounced off the archway leading into the room. After all the arch is very brightly lit. If it was a shaft of light reflecting off the arch, it certainly is an odd effect. Maybe it was just a freak flash effect. 

But if that's the case, what about the sounds we heard?

I don't know what we saw. It's not proof of anything, but neither am I prepared to rule anything out except fraud. Whatever this experience was, it wasn't fake and it wasn't my imagination. This wasn't an act, I don't think Andrea was putting any of this on. It was real - I just don't know if it was explainable, or paranormal.