Lilly and Tom rushed into the coffee shop to tell me the latest about Brat Boy.
I find it always interesting to hear the ghostly experiences of others. This on-going saga with Lilly and Tom isn’t one where they have actually seen the ghost, but observed changes in the behavior of a neighborhood boy.
Lilly and Tom live in a section of town surrounded by older homes built in the late 1800’s to the 1940’s. Much remodeling had been done in the area over the years, but it remains a charming neighborhood.
Tom was particularly fond of an old military man who lived across the street. They would have long talks in the evening. He was interested in the stories, but it was an excuse to help out the elderly man. Lilly always sent some food along to make sure he was eating properly.
The sad day arrived when the old man died. His family put the house on the market immediately after his funeral.
It wasn’t long before a family moved into the neighborhood. The new neighbors were a woman with three children, a boy 16, a girl 12 and another boy 8 years old. With all the antics of the elder son, he soon got the reputation of being a brat. He would ride his skateboard in the street, tag a ride on passing cars, swear at his mother and beat up on his little brother.
The police were always at the house. He was gone for a few years for selling drugs.
Now he was back.
He was still a brat. His time in jail didn’t teach him any positive lessons. He didn’t go to school and he didn’t work. He’d have his friends over while his brother and sister were at school and their mother at work.
He graduated from a skate board to a motorcycle. His friends had motorcycles, too, and they’d race up and down the street. They acted as though they owned the road. It was a major problem for the other residents.
Then, he got into music. He and his friends would make all kinds of racket in the garage practicing.
The strange thing was that he and his band did get hired to play at various events. He did get a car, but there was an issue when his mother needed him to help her with errands and taking his siblings to lessons or practices.
“I just came home from getting groceries,” Lilly explained. “The neighborhood was quiet. No sign of Brat Boy and his friends.”
She heard the front door slam across the street. She turned and saw Brat Boy running from the house, barefoot and shirtless. He either tripped or dove into the rosebushes. He stayed there for awhile, then emerged with scratches on his arms, face and torso.
He limped across the street asking, “Ma’am, may I use your telephone?”
Lilly wasn’t going to invite him in the house, so she handed him her cell phone. She did debate about doing so. She didn’t trust this kid, but his polite “ma’am” and simple request took her by surprise.
He called his mother, asking her to come home. He explained that something was in the house.
“It won’t let me alone, whatever it is. Things were flying off the walls and shelves in my room. It even flipped me out of bed. I was laying on the floor with the mattress on top of me.”
He paused, listening to his mother.
“But Mom, you don’t understand.”
He paused again.
“Yes, I understand. I’m sorry Mom, but I need you to come home. I’m not going into that house alone.”
Lilly got the last of her groceries into the house. When she returned, the young man handed her her phone thanking her.
“Having a rough day?” Lilly asked.
“Yes, ma’am. May I ask you something?”
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Yes, Tom and I have had some experiences.”
“Well, we have one, too, but he leaves Mom, Kary and Brad alone.”
He told Lilly about some of the experiences.
- The hot water in the shower would suddenly turn off and he’d be forced to finish his shower with cold water.
- Every time he’d complain to his mother something would fly out of nowhere and hit him in the face.
- He wasn’t sure how many times he was tripped and fell down the stairs, but he admitted it was usually after he said something mean to his sister or brother.
- Lights would turn off in his room, but other lights were on in the house.
- When he took the remote control from his brother and changed the channel on the television, it turned off.
It was clear to Lilly that this ghost was disciplining him every time he misbehaved.
She truly believed it was their old neighbor, trying to teach Brat Boy there were consequences to his acting out inappropriately. She wasn’t sure if the pathetic young man before her was getting the message.
“Thanks for listening,” he said. “I guess I’ll go on home and wait for my mom.”
Lilly went inside after watching him cross the street. He sat down on the curb near the mailbox and the driveway.
Lilly was keeping an eye out the window, she felt sorry for the young man. She saw a car go into the driveway. The boy stood up, opened the car door and gave his mother a big hug. He got some things out of the back of the car and carried them into the house.
Tom finished up the story.
“You wouldn’t believe the difference in Brat Boy. He signed up for college, he took the GED (high school equivalency test) while he was incarcerated. His name is Tim and he’s turned into a decent kid.”
He no longer swore at his mother, beat up his little brother or made a nuisance of himself around the neighborhood. He was working part-time at Home Depot.
“I think old man Turner finally got Tim’s attention.”
I hope you enjoyed this Real Ghost Story. Thanks for stopping by!
I decorate grave sites during the early morning hours. This being Veteran’s Day Weekend I put out plenty of American Flags along with flower arrangements. At dawn it will be a sight to behold.
I love my job, but I must admit I do sometimes get a bit creeped out.
I bring candy for any ghostly children who may be around and some extra flowers for the ladies . . . and the gentlemen are quite fond of Jack Daniels, so I have some bottles ready for them, too. These are all ghostly apparitions that appear while I’m working.
It’s nice that they’re used to me, but as long as I’ve been doing this, I can’t help but be startled from time to time.
I pretty much thought that I’ve seen it all, but I did get a bit of a scare when a floating head followed me into the cemetery. It was just bobbing along beside the truck on the passenger side.
It reminded me of the bouncing ball that used to be used to follow the words in the song on cartoons and old Mitch Miller television programs.
Thoughts like this pop into my mind at the craziest times, but I’ve found it better to laugh about something creepy than be scared. It may be what has allowed me to do this job for so many years.
The shadows seemed to be alive.
Dark spots seemed to dart behind tall gravestones or trees. My initial thought that kids were out, but it is a closed cemetery. I suppose there is always a way inside other than through the main gate, but I hadn’t heard about it . . . other than the underground tunnel, but that was blocked off years ago . . . or that’s what the city wants us to believe . . . some have denied they had ever existed.
I concentrated on the job I had to decorate all the grave sites. It was going to be a long night. I started at dusk, when the gates were closed. I knew someone would be back around midnight to let me out, but until then I was alone in the cemetery . . . except for the ghostly residents.
I’m used to having the feeling of being watched, but the shadows moving in the darkness were new to me as was the bobbing ghostly head.
I was singing patriotic songs in my head as I worked, but creepy songs seemed to drown them out. I thought about “Monster Mash” which I always found enjoyable, but it was soon replaced with “Do you ever think as a hearse goes by, that you may be the next to die? They wrap you up in a big white sheet from your head down to your feet. They put you in a big black box, and cover you up with dirt and rocks. All goes well for about a week, then your coffin begins to leak. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinochle on your snout. They eat your eyes, they eat your nose, they eat the jelly between your toes. A big green worm with rolling eyes, crawls in your stomach and out your eyes. Your stomach turns a slimy green, and pus pours out like whipping cream. You spread it on a slice of bread, and that’s what you eat when you are dead.” . . . I got a chill.
I kept working. That last song stayed in my mind much longer than I felt comfortable.
A baseball rolled up beside me. I knew that was Billy, a young boy I’ve seen at the cemetery from time to time and who, along with his ghostly friends come to my house at Christmas . . . but that’s a different story for another time.
I set a box of Junior Mints beside the baseball. I knew Billy liked them and would share them with his friends. I did feel a little more relaxed knowing Billy was there and forgot about the shadows . . . and the disgusting song.
There was a slight breeze that gave a gentle nudge to the leaves that seemed to whisper throughout the cemetery from tree to tree. Fortunately, the dark shadows were still.
I got that cold chill again. Checking my watch and looking around, I knew I had no time to entertain my imagination. I had an hour to finish up and meet the caretaker at the gate.
I moved the truck to light up the last section of the cemetery. I worked in silence — no songs popped in my head, but something strange did happen. I heard and then saw flowers being placed at the far end of the cemetery. It may have been the soldiers I brought the Jack Daniels for helping me out.
With the help of my ghostly soldiers, I finished early and waited at the gate for the caretaker. He seemed pleased to see me. I usually have a bottle of Jack Daniels for him, but my ghostly helpers, helped themselves to all the bottles along with the flowers they placed for me. If the caretaker wanted one, he’d have to deal with the soldiers.
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Occasionally when I meet my ghost hunting friends at our local coffee shop there is a ghost or two hanging around.
They do try to get our attention in various ways.
On this particular morning I kept hearing a strange buzzing sound. I thought it was some kind of buzzing insect. I waved my hand next to my ear to chase it away, but I felt something ice cold. I knew instantly that some spirit was whispering in my ear, but I couldn’t make out any words.
I tried to communicate with the spirit by talking to it in my mind. I explained that I was sorry, but all I heard was a buzzing sound. I was interested in what it had to say, but it needed to find someone else who was on their frequency.
Evidently, my group was on the same frequency as I, because I noticed each one waving it away.
I explained to them that it wasn’t an insect, but a spirit trying to communicate with one of us.
Hank suggested to the spirit that it try to communicate with us in another way.
Great, I thought, now we’re going to have parlor games right here in the coffee shop.
Not to be disappointed, the chalk board with the daily specials was erased and the word “HELP” in all caps appeared on the board.
Hank told the spirit that he appreciated the message, but needed more information.
The next word was “FOLLOW.”
Great, now we needed to follow a ghost that we couldn’t see or hear someplace we didn’t know.
I wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but we left the coffee shop and got into Hank’s SUV to go on an adventure.
Hank was asking questions such as right or left as he drove out of town. Evidently, the ghost would tap Hank’s shoulder in reply.
We were heading out of town.
My friend Barbara didn’t seem at all concerned. Hank was concentrating on his driving. I seemed to be the only one who wasn’t keen on the idea. I guess I’m not much of a ghost hunter.
Off to the distance I saw an abandoned house.
As we drove up, there was a “Keep Out” sign nailed to the fence that was missing pickets and seemed to lean to one side.
When we got out of the car, we heard someone calling for help.
We immediately hurried to the sound of the cries being careful not to trip over debris that might be hidden in the tall grass.
When I saw the man on the ground, I immediately called 9-1-1 to get an ambulance out there as soon as possible. The man had broken his leg and I could see the bone poking through the skin.
I went outside to think about what had happened that morning. A spirit came to get us to help the man in the old abandoned house.
How was that possible?
I wanted to know more. Were they related? Was this the ghost’s house? Why was this man there? How did he break his leg?
It seemed to take forever for the ambulance to arrive, but they did with police and fire truck.
How was I going to explain why we were out there?
Fortunately, Hank did all the talking and Barbara and I nodded like bobble heads.
A couple of days later we visited the man in the hospital.
He told us he was hired to tear down the old place and level the lot. Since it was an old stone house, he was wondering if it was worth saving. He didn’t like destroying old buildings.
As he was climbing the stairs, he heard a buzzing sound in one ear, then the other. He also saw something pass him and run up the stairs. He was so startled that he lost his balance and fell down the stairs.
Since he believed in ghosts, we shared our experience at the coffee shop.
We were all pleased that the ghost that startled him also rescued him.
What happened to the old stone house?
It’s still there, but it has been renovated and the yard landscaped. The man who wanted it destroyed changed his mind after hearing what transpired in the house. He moved from Utah with his family and made it their home.
What about the ghost?
He’s still there with his wife. He’s the great-great-uncle to the man from Utah. The children like the elderly ghostly couple and their parents have learned that they can all live peacefully in the same house.
It’s nice when a ghost story ends happily.
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you liked this real ghost story!
I was with my ghost hunting group at the local cemetery. While there, we met Bertha who had a story to tell.
She went on one of those tours of haunted places. She didn’t specify where and we didn’t press her.
Bertha was 14 or 15 years old at the time. She was looking forward to this particular trip and the whole family was interested in taking pictures to see if they could capture ghosts or orbs or anything paranormal.
When they arrived, Bertha recalled saying, “If there are any ghosts here, we mean you no harm,” as she stood in front of the massive building.
She heard something fall, she looked down and on the cement walkway was a metal object. She picked it up and put it in her purse.
She joined her parents, siblings and other tour group members up the steps and into the grand lobby. Bertha immediately felt a cold blast of cold air. She took pictures, but didn’t see anything. The cold air wasn’t coming from the air conditioning vents, but it was above her. She imagined ghosts flying overhead or giant orbs.
Bertha wasn’t paying much attention to the tour guide, she was more concerned about how cold her hands felt.
As we stood in a shady spot on this late June day in the cemetery, I noticed Bertha rubbing her hands to get them warm.
Bertha continued. She began feeling dizzy as they climbed the stairs along with the tour guide. Bertha told her mother she wasn’t feeling well and would wait for them outside.
She sat on the steps, off to one corner, to be out of the way of tourists, but visible to her parents when they finished the tour.
The dizziness subsided, but she shook with fear. She was sure something there did not like her — maybe personally, or just didn’t like her being there.
Bertha tried to calm herself down. She prayed for protection and immediately felt better.
After the tour, she met her parents and walked to the car. They stopped at a restaurant for lunch before heading for home.
She remembered her parents and brothers talking about the tour and what impressed them about what the tour guide said. She remembers her mother saying she took a lot of pictures and couldn’t wait to get them developed.
When they were leaving the restaurant, Bertha picked up a quarter she found on the sidewalk and put it in her purse. It clinked with the metal object she picked up earlier at the haunted place. She decided to take a closer look when they got in the car.
She brought it out as they were driving out of the restaurant parking lot. The car’s engine sputtered to a stop. Her father got out and lifted the hood to take a look. He fiddled with something and started the car. She was holding the object in her hand, but still hadn’t examined it closely. She opened her hand and looked at the broken bell-shaped object. There was a piece that fit in the top and there was no clapper in the bell.
She turned it over in her hand to examine the writing that was inside the bell. The car once again sputtered to a stop.
Bertha wondered if it had anything to do with the metal bell.
Her father got the car running again, but he drove to the nearest gas station hoping someone could fix the car.
Bertha put the bell back in her purse while they waited for her father to finish talking to the mechanic who could find nothing wrong. She was sure, the car trouble had something to do with the broken metal bell. She decided to keep it in her purse.
Bob, one member of our group, said that one should never accept gifts from ghosts. It could have been a demon or some ghost that wasn’t being generous, but was a way of getting into her house.
We all agreed, including Bertha who continued her story.
“When we did get home, I put the metal bell on my dresser. A friend of mine came over and invited me to the movies. Mom and Dad agreed and my brothers joined us.”
When Bertha and her brothers arrived home that evening, her mother and father were sitting on the front steps. Police cars were in front of the house and around the back.
“Someone broke in the house,” her father said calmly.
As it turned out, there was no break-in. The police could find no one in the house or around the house.
Bertha told her parents about the bell she found that morning and went to get it to show them.
The bell was part of a candle snuffer. The handle had broken off.
Bertha pointed out the inscription inside the bell. She couldn’t read it — it was in old script and she thought in another language.
Her mother cleaned it up with silver polish to clear away any soot and tarnish.
Looking inside, she read a message that disturbed her. She threw it in the trash and put it out to the trash can in the alley.
As it turned out, all their haunted tour photographs came out black.
Obviously, something didn’t want them to have pictures of their visit.
Eventually, Bertha’s mother shared what she read inside the broken bell. “A curse is placed on the possessor of this bell. May all your dreams be snuffed.”
Even though, the bell had been thrown out, strange things occurred in the house. There were many fires in the kitchen and garage. The whole family seemed to suffer from Bertha’s picking up the bell.
Her older brother broke his leg in a basketball tournament. Her younger brother got hit in the mouth with a baseball, breaking his front teeth. Her father lost his job, his boss and co-workers thought he was a jinx. Bertha had some traumas in her life, but she didn’t share them.
She was wondering about curses and how to break them. Since we didn’t know about the original curse, we couldn’t help her, but referred her to someone who might.
It is true that Bertha took a gift from some entity, her mother threw it out instead of giving it back. I wonder if that would have made a difference.
Just beware of taking gifts from ghosts.
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I hope you will share this real ghost story along with some others with your friends and family.
I’m always curious how the weather affects ghosts and spirits.
I am reminded that ghosts and spirits were once living beings and for some reason are stuck here or chose to visit here to look out for others. It may be where their friends are and they enjoy being with them or they may have unfinished business or have business of another sort.
As I said, ghosts and spirits were once living beings and should be treated as such. So, cloudy weather may affect them as it did in life. I like cloudy weather. I love the rain, thunder and lightning. I know others who don’t. So, I would imagine going out on such a day to look for ghosts would uncover nothing or a cranky ghost.
I’ve been investigating an old haunted theater for a few months now with some ghost hunting friends. They are quite serious about their ghost hunting. I’m a bit more laid back.
On this particular cloudy, fall day, I went to the old haunted theater with a card table, a jigsaw puzzle and a couple of chairs.
I set it up in the lobby where the light was best, since the place had been abandoned for a number of years with no utilities turned on, I wanted to have natural light.
Just as a note, we do get permission from the owner each time we visit.
My friends thought I wasn’t into today’s ghost hunting adventure, but it was just the opposite. I wanted to see if there was a spirit who was into jigsaw puzzles and wanted to spend some time with me. I’ve noticed whenever a jigsaw puzzle is set up, no one can resist stopping for a few minutes, checking it out and putting a piece in place. Sometimes they get “hooked” and sit down. This was the behavior I was counting on for my ghost hunting adventure.
Along with the card table, puzzle and chairs, I had my camera, tape recorder and EMF meter.
As I was setting out the puzzle pieces, I spoke aloud to the ghosts. I explained how on cloudy days I had a bet with myself. The bet was to see if I could complete the puzzle before the first drop of rain fell. Now this was no idle bet. I have puzzles with 1000 pieces or more. I was serious. I chose a jigsaw puzzle of candy wrappers — theater . . . candy . . . This theater was originally built for live performances and later converted to show movies and later abandoned when a multi-plex came to town.
I rambled on a bit longer about the puzzle and the various candies and settled down to business.
I started with the frame and noticed the chair opposite me move to one side. I didn’t think a spirit was sitting down, but just moved the chair a bit to let me know someone was there. My EMF meter lit up.
I said, “I don’t know why I brought this puzzle, it always makes me hungry.”
I heard very clearly, “Sugar Babies.”
“Oh, are those your favorite? They certainly are chewy, but stick to my teeth.”
I was hoping the EVP was being recorded.
Not knowing the age of this “ghostly spirit,” I didn’t want to ask too many questions, but to share information. I do talk when I’m nervous.
I noticed the “Sugar Babies” coming together to one side of the puzzle pieces I set out. Was the spirit telling me what pieces he/she was putting together?
I decided to test this out and did the same with “Junior Mints.”
“Mary Jane” was spoken next and the pieces came together.
This went on for some time and the puzzle was taking shape.
“You’re good at this,” I said. “We’ll get this finished before the first drops of rain.”
I then heard quite distinctly, “No rain today.”
I answered with, “You’re probably right, but it’s a good day for a jigsaw puzzle.”
My answer was “Cards.”
This spirit evidently enjoyed playing cards. I waited to see if he/she was going to say more.
I wasn’t sure if this spirit had moved on to see what the others were doing or not. My EMF meter was still on, but I may have been visited by another.
I declared my experiment a success and made a mental note to bring cards the next time, but I didn’t know what game this particular ghost preferred and I didn’t know many, just the basics. Maybe the others would like to participate next time.
I got the feeling from this brief encounter that this ghost may have been an actor and was used to passing the time playing cards. Or it may have been the one running the films and played cards between changing reels.
I did some research and discovered that the original owner of the building did set up a weekly poker game. He made his business legitimate with the playhouse. His son started running the movie house to bring in more customers, but his father still ran his poker games. He did expand it to nightly when it became a movie theater and the games were set up behind the stage in the old dressing rooms.
I learned of other businesses in town that ran “after hour” events as well.
It’s interesting what you can learn about a town by asking questions of the living who are willing to share. It’s just a ghostly nudge that gets the mind thinking about the random words that were spoken.
By the way, the spirit was right, no rain.
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