I, in no way, propose myself to be any sort of paranormal expert. In fact, although it's known by some that I watch a lot of that shit on television and the internet, it pretty much baffles the shit outta me, when it's not causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. That withstanding, I have had some questionable experiences in my short but distinguished life.
The first experience occurred many years ago, following the my sister's marriage to her first husband. They'd just purchased a new home in a newer part of town and were going to have some painting done to it. This coincided with their plans to leave on their honeymoon, so they had me house sit for them to allow for the painter to come and go, as well as watch their cat, Norman.
The first night of my week long stay, I chose to sleep in the master bedroom, upstairs rather than the uncomfortable single bed in the guest room. Just as Norman (the cat) and I laid our heads down, we were startled by a series of claps sounding from the level below. The house was set up in such a way that there was only the master bedroom and en-suite upstairs, along with a small sitting room where the television set was, which overlooked the front room and dining room below. The cat and I, literally looked at one another, surprised and bewildered at the noise we were hearing and both leaped out of bed to investigate what was the matter. The clapping continued as I flicked on all the light switches, but ceased once I made it to the railing to look over. I searched out the house, while Norman watched from above, but nothing and no one was there. I flicked off the lights and returned to bed, opting then to pull the sheets over my head.
The next day, I was kicked by an unseen force, while speaking to the painter. It wasn't hard or malicious, but firm enough to let me know that something was there. That freaked me out, again, especially since it was in the middle of the day. Up to that point, I believed that supernatural shit only occurred during the night. The worse of it, though, occurred at the end of the week.
Upon the return home of my sister and (then) brother-in-law, I immediately reported the weird shit that occurred in their absence. They, of course, laughed and mocked me. That night, while sleeping in the uncomfortable guest quarters, I met with the most violent of the attacks. I was sleeping with my face to the wall, when I was awoken violently with the mattress flipping upwards and pinning me against the wall for a few seconds. I woke up and thought for sure that it was my brother-in-law, a notorious prankster, pulling a joke on me. As soon as the mattress fell back into place, I quickly flipped over to discover an empty, dimly lit room with the door still closed, like I'd left it earlier. Given the layout of the room, there's no f*cking way that he, my idiot brother-in-law, could've successfully maneuvered out of the room and quietly shut the door.
The first experience occurred many years ago, following the my sister's marriage to her first husband. They'd just purchased a new home in a newer part of town and were going to have some painting done to it. This coincided with their plans to leave on their honeymoon, so they had me house sit for them to allow for the painter to come and go, as well as watch their cat, Norman.
The first night of my week long stay, I chose to sleep in the master bedroom, upstairs rather than the uncomfortable single bed in the guest room. Just as Norman (the cat) and I laid our heads down, we were startled by a series of claps sounding from the level below. The house was set up in such a way that there was only the master bedroom and en-suite upstairs, along with a small sitting room where the television set was, which overlooked the front room and dining room below. The cat and I, literally looked at one another, surprised and bewildered at the noise we were hearing and both leaped out of bed to investigate what was the matter. The clapping continued as I flicked on all the light switches, but ceased once I made it to the railing to look over. I searched out the house, while Norman watched from above, but nothing and no one was there. I flicked off the lights and returned to bed, opting then to pull the sheets over my head.
The next day, I was kicked by an unseen force, while speaking to the painter. It wasn't hard or malicious, but firm enough to let me know that something was there. That freaked me out, again, especially since it was in the middle of the day. Up to that point, I believed that supernatural shit only occurred during the night. The worse of it, though, occurred at the end of the week.
Upon the return home of my sister and (then) brother-in-law, I immediately reported the weird shit that occurred in their absence. They, of course, laughed and mocked me. That night, while sleeping in the uncomfortable guest quarters, I met with the most violent of the attacks. I was sleeping with my face to the wall, when I was awoken violently with the mattress flipping upwards and pinning me against the wall for a few seconds. I woke up and thought for sure that it was my brother-in-law, a notorious prankster, pulling a joke on me. As soon as the mattress fell back into place, I quickly flipped over to discover an empty, dimly lit room with the door still closed, like I'd left it earlier. Given the layout of the room, there's no f*cking way that he, my idiot brother-in-law, could've successfully maneuvered out of the room and quietly shut the door.
Nothing ever happened to me after that, and I'd spent a lot of time in that house in the following years. However, when I moved to the basement suite of a house on Laurentian Drive, that was another story.
I worked nights and slept throughout the day, but several times a day, I'd be awoken by the heavy walking of someone upstairs. The living room window looked out the front into the driveway, so I could always see when someone was home upstairs. More times than not, there was no one, yet the walking would continue. It was always the same, too. From their living room, directly above mine, down the hall, back into the kitchen, then returning to the living room. This went on for hours and hours. Finally one day, I asked my idiot landlord who the person was upstairs doing all the walking. He informed me that no one was staying with them, but added, "Maybe it's the man in the brown suit." This information put me off some, especially when he elaborated on the explanation. Apparently his fiancee had purchased the house a couple of years previous to my moving in and one night was startled when she awoke to a tall older man in a brown suit, looking down on her as she slept.
I worked nights and slept throughout the day, but several times a day, I'd be awoken by the heavy walking of someone upstairs. The living room window looked out the front into the driveway, so I could always see when someone was home upstairs. More times than not, there was no one, yet the walking would continue. It was always the same, too. From their living room, directly above mine, down the hall, back into the kitchen, then returning to the living room. This went on for hours and hours. Finally one day, I asked my idiot landlord who the person was upstairs doing all the walking. He informed me that no one was staying with them, but added, "Maybe it's the man in the brown suit." This information put me off some, especially when he elaborated on the explanation. Apparently his fiancee had purchased the house a couple of years previous to my moving in and one night was startled when she awoke to a tall older man in a brown suit, looking down on her as she slept.
The entity in the brown suit never ventured into the basement, where I was, thank Christ, but continued to walk that same course, intermittently over the rest of my stay on the premises. That is, until my landlords asked me to vacate the dwelling. Their increasing family dictated that they needed extra room and so it was logical that I vacate in order for them to do so. I don't know if it was coincidental, but they day I was all packed up and ready to leave, the cupboard doors in the kitchen upstairs, simultaneously began to slam repeatedly for a few hours, I'm guessing in protest of my being asked to leave. Denny, my landlord was not only an idiot, but a complete douche bag to boot, so instead of being pleasant on asking me to depart, he was abrupt and rude about it. I can only imagine he was the same in his life upstairs too.
Again I was paranormal-free, until I moved into the house I bought in 2008. It's located in a newer part of town, too, so naturally I never thought of anything being out of the ordinary. Not until I began seeing things out of the corner of my eye. I live in a 4-level split, which means I can see into the kitchen from the living room downstairs. Sometimes, when I'd be watching TV, I'd notice a small furry-like creature cross my peripheral. I didn't own a cat, yet, so I always found this to be odd. I didn't know (not until recently) that animals can sometimes inhabit locations after their death. I wondered if there was a black long-haired cat that once lived in my home. This would certainly explain some of the strange behavior from my cat when I did finally get one. To this day, he gets freaked out and will come running to my side. Shit, he just did it now!
Lately, though, there's been some other strange shit occurring. Things that a spectral kitty, no matter how supernatural it may be, could ever achieve. I found my wallet in my fridge once. At Christmas, a gift for my nephew went missing. It's quite sizable, so I was quite dumbfounded, especially when I found it recently, down in my basement, tucked tightly behind some shelving. I nearly threw my back out extracting it from it's resting place, so there's no way I could've absent mindedly stuck it back there. But the majorly f*cked up occurrence, happened last night, early this morning.
With my Blackberry in hand, I placed it on the counter, as I was returning a jug of milk to my refrigerator. When I turned back, I literally saw my phone lift up about six inches off the counter, move out and drop to the floor, where it proceeded to bounce and in some awkward JFK-magic bullet fashion, illogically bounced about four feet into my cat's water dish.
Lately, though, there's been some other strange shit occurring. Things that a spectral kitty, no matter how supernatural it may be, could ever achieve. I found my wallet in my fridge once. At Christmas, a gift for my nephew went missing. It's quite sizable, so I was quite dumbfounded, especially when I found it recently, down in my basement, tucked tightly behind some shelving. I nearly threw my back out extracting it from it's resting place, so there's no way I could've absent mindedly stuck it back there. But the majorly f*cked up occurrence, happened last night, early this morning.
With my Blackberry in hand, I placed it on the counter, as I was returning a jug of milk to my refrigerator. When I turned back, I literally saw my phone lift up about six inches off the counter, move out and drop to the floor, where it proceeded to bounce and in some awkward JFK-magic bullet fashion, illogically bounced about four feet into my cat's water dish.
WTF?!?!?
I'm not convinced that my house is haunted by anything. At least I'm in denial of any such possibility, but how the f*ck am I supposed to wrap my head around that stupid kind o' shit?!? Please, someone explain this to me. How??
My cat is still running around in a panic, this morning. Poor little bugger. I'm going to go keep him company and protect him from whatever the f*ck...
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