It’s me again with some exciting news! I have started a new blog called The Haunted Writer. It’s a fictional blog about a ghost story writer whose muse is a sarcastic ghost named Leo. Check it out on my author website/blog, The Haunted Writer. I’m also working on other writing projects, which I will introduce in the future.
I will not be continuing with The Ghost Post at this time, although I will leave the website up so that people can read the previous posts. Thank you for your continued support and I hope you will enjoy my new blog and other ghost stories.
Jessica met her best friend, Barbara, during their freshman year in college. They lived a couple of rooms down from each other. The two young women only had one class together, but they made efforts to meet up for meals and hang out. They hit it off so well that they decided to dorm with one another the following year.
Jessica was going to school out-of-state. The airfare was too expensive for her to fly home to Florida for just a few days, so she planned to stay in the dorm over Thanksgiving break. She’d see her family for Christmas and the long winter break after classes were over. Even though Jessica knew that she wasn’t going to be the only one staying in the dorm over the holiday, she couldn’t help feeling a bit homesick. When Barbara heard about the plan, she invited Jessica to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with her instead.
Barbara came from a large family. Compared to the apartments that Jessica had grown up in, Barbara’s house was like a palace. Jessica had fully expected to stay in Barbara’s room or to bunk down on the couch, but they actually had a guest bedroom ready for her. Barbara’s family was so warm and welcoming that soon Jessica was feeling right at home, despite still missing her parents.
Thanksgiving Day arrived. Everyone was up early, cooking, and getting the house ready. Barbara cheerfully introduced Jessica to all her relatives. Jessica did her best to try to keep all of their names straight.
At some point during the evening, she noticed a woman wearing a lavender-colored dress sitting in the corner of the room. The woman had short, chestnut-brown hair, dark eyes, and round cheeks. She was smiling and laughing at everyone’s stories. Jessica couldn’t remember if she had met her earlier.
Jessica was about to approach the woman, when Barbara grabbed her by the arm. She and her cousins were going to go roast some marshmallows and wanted to know if Jessica wanted to join them. Jessica nodded and went to get her jacket from the coat closet. When she came back through the living room a moment later, the woman in the lavender dress had vanished. She shrugged, figuring the woman had gotten up in the few seconds that she had been out of the room.
The relatives left at 9:00pm. Then Jessica helped Barbara and her family clean up. Barbara and Jessica stayed up late talking and watching movies. Exhausted, Jessica figured that she would fall right to sleep once she got in bed, but she kept tossing and turning. After an hour of this, she decided she might as well try to do some of the homework that she had been putting off.
Putting on her robe, Jessica grabbed her textbook and went downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe some warm milk would help make her sleepy. She microwaved a mug of milk and then sat down at the kitchen table to do some reading. She had only gotten through a paragraph or two, when she heard humming.
Jessica’s back was to the living room entrance. Turning around quietly, she saw a shadowy figure moving around in the room behind her. Jessica carefully got up and crept over to the alcove. The woman in the lavender dress was walking around the living room and humming quietly to herself.
Suddenly, the woman turned around and padded up the stairs. Jessica followed softly behind her. She watched as the woman walked down the hallway, peeking into each room, and smiling. The woman continued to do this until she reached the room where Jessica was staying. Then she opened the door and went inside.
Jessica stood stock still. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t the woman know that she was sleeping over? Jessica stood there watching the doorway, but the woman never came back out. Finally, she mustered up enough courage to go and look inside.
The room was empty. Jessica searched every corner. She even checked under the bed. She knew that the woman had never come out of the room. There was nowhere for the woman to hide. She had just disappeared.
At this point, Jessica was pretty sure that she had seen a ghost. She couldn’t sleep in that room knowing that the woman might suddenly show up again. Pulling the blanket and a pillow off the bed, Jessica went downstairs and slept on the living room couch with the covers pulled up over her head.
When Barbara and her parents found Jessica asleep on the couch the next morning, they asked if something was wrong. Jessica told them about the woman she had seen at the party and then again at night after everyone else had gone to bed. Barbara looked over at her parents. She went upstairs and came back down with a photo album. She flipped through a few pages, and then passed the album to Jessica.
“That’s her!” Jessica pointed to the picture of the woman that she had seen last night. She was even wearing the same lavender-colored dress. “Who is she?”
Barbara’s mother was crying at this point. “That’s my sister, Joanne. She died from cancer last year. This was our first Thanksgiving without her. It was always her favorite holiday.”
Barbara’s mother was comforted that her sister’s spirit had still been able to join in the family celebration, even if she hadn’t been able to see her. Everyone figured that Joanne had chosen to appear to Jessica. Since Jessica had never met her, she would be able to convince everyone that Joanne had really been there and was still watching over the family.
Do You Have a Ghost Story?
Send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
Want even more Ghost Stories?
Check out The Ghost Post’s YouTube channel for audio recordings of The Ghost Post. It’s perfect for camping out, sleepovers, or anytime you just want to hear a ghost story on the go.
Are you one of the following: A paranormal writer, artist, or investigator?
Or
Do you have a paranormal-themed business or Facebook group?
Then check out my new paranormal advertising group, The Paranormal Hotspot: The Market for All Things Paranormal. There is no set promotion day, so you can promote your business, art, or group every day for free. You can also post links to sites where you sell your products or services. Our mission is to help paranormal businesses, artists, writers, and investigators connect with fans and consumers!
Get Your Ghost On!
Check out our CafePress store featuring The Ghost Post’s official mascot, Spook. We’ve got awesome coffee mugs, t-shirts, and more!
It was a hot, summer day. Matthew worked in construction and had been at it since early that morning. The apartment was quiet. His mother was out shopping and visiting her friends. She wouldn’t be home for another few hours. After a long shower, Matthew went into his bedroom and pulled down the shades to block out the late afternoon sun. He set up a fan by his bed to help keep him cool. Before getting into bed, he lit a Saint Theresa candle and placed it on top of his dresser. Matthew often lit candles and said prayers for his grandmother, Tessie. She had died the year before after a hard battle with cancer.
Exhausted, Matthew flopped into bed and was soon in a deep sleep. He began to dream that he was at a carnival with his girlfriend. For some reason, they were playing a game of hide and seek in the dream. He said that he chased her from ride to ride, always to lose sight of her the second that he was about to catch her. At one point in the dream, he saw her disappear into a fun house, so he followed her in. He started running down a hallway lined with mirrors when he suddenly heard someone calling his name.
“Matthew!”
He turned around to see Grandma Tessie standing in one of the mirrors. She called out to him again. As he walked toward her, he found himself back in his room. Only he wasn’t awake because he could see himself lying fast asleep in his bed. Confused, he was wondering what was happening, when his grandmother appeared once again. This time she materialized next to him in the bedroom.
“Matthew, you’re sleeping. Wake up! The candle is about to burst into flames.”
This took him completely out of the dream. He felt his body hit the bed. Matthew sat up just in time to watch the candle’s glass break. The candle fell over and rolled on the dresser. In a flash, Matthew jumped out of bed and was able to snuff out the flame. Had he not been awake at that moment, the candle would have set the dresser on fire.
Do You Have a Ghost Story?
Send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
Also, check out The Ghost Post’s new YouTube channel for audio recordings of The Ghost Post. It’s perfect for camping out, sleepovers, or anytime you just want to hear a ghost story on the go.
Get Your Ghost On!
In celebration of The Ghost Post’s 1 Year Anniversary, I have launched a Café Press store featuring The Ghost Post’s official new mascot, Spook. We’ve got awesome coffee mugs, t-shirts, and more!
Sometimes my husband and I have shared paranormal experiences. This is a story about something that happened to us when we were in college together. To read more about Father William, please see Dorming With Ghosts: The Many Spirits of Marillac Hall.
In keeping with last week’s post, I wanted to share another event that occurred in Marillac Hall a few months after the séance. Sometimes Marillac could get so quiet that you would feel like someone was watching you. Whenever I was alone studying in my room or staying up late writing a paper in the small lounge downstairs, the silence would get eerie.
Marillac is situated at the bottom of Marillac Hill. You get a marvelous view of the Hudson River right from the front door. Removed from the majority of campus traffic, Marillac offers a place of solitude for both students and spirits alike. Neither the dead, nor the living appreciate noisy neighbors. If you wouldn’t want a ghost banging doors and stomping around to all hours of the night, then be assured that the spirits would like some peace too.
My roommate and I had a large room that had originally been a lounge. In terms of size, it was one of the biggest dorm rooms on campus. The suites surrounding us were smaller, single rooms that were connected by a short hallway that included a private bathroom. I had to go up an additional set of stairs to get to my room on the fourth floor. Being it was separated from the rest of the building, it was naturally quieter up there.
While the rest of the dorms are more modern in style, Marillac Hall was designed to look like a stone mansion complete with two separate wings. On my side, there were two main ways to get to the first floor. The most direct route was to go down a narrow hallway that passed by a room that was used as a storage closet. In the previous post, I told you about Father William. He is the spirit of a priest who used to teach mathematics at the college. He supposedly haunts this room because he lived there when he was alive. Since the séance, we had routinely said “Hi” to Father William whenever we passed by his door.
George, who was my boyfriend at the time, lived in another dorm on campus. Since he was not a resident, I had to escort him to the bathroom and take him downstairs when he was ready to sign out. One night, I was walking him out when we heard a lot of commotion coming from the third floor. Someone was having a party, but the music was too loud and there was screaming and shouting going on too. It was already midnight and quiet hours were supposed to start at 10pm.
“I wonder why the RA hasn’t said anything about the noise level,” I said.
“Well, maybe the priest’s ghost will do something about it.” George grinned mischievously as we approached the hallway to Father William’s door. “Go get them, Father,” he said.
“That’s not funny, George. Stop kidding around.”
Just then we heard a loud creak. We stood petrified as the door to the hall’s storage closet slowly swung open on its own.
“Nice going,” I said to George. “You summoned him.” I made George turn around and go back so that we could use the other stairwell. After that incident, I always took the side route through the dorm’s kitchen at night to avoid going by the haunted room.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story!
Want to show off your passion for ghosts with a little fashion flair? In celebration of The Ghost Post’s 1 Year Anniversary, I have launched a Café Press store featuring The Ghost Post’s official new mascot, Spook.
This story was told to me by a friend who wishes to remain anonymous. I have changed the names in the story for privacy reasons.
Paranormal investigators and ghost fanatics have many theories about spirits and the afterlife. We scrutinize pictures, videos, voice recordings, and reports of eye-witness accounts for signs of hauntings. While we may have different ideas based on our beliefs and experiences, we share a love for the exploration of the spirit realm and its mysteries.
One such theory is the presence of spirits around babies and young children. Have you ever seen a baby or a young child carrying on a conversation, but you couldn’t see anyone next to them? The child believes that this person is real and might even have a name for his or her friend. Children are naturally more imaginative than adults. Since they have not been conditioned to dismiss what others cannot see, they constantly live between the worlds of make-believe and reality. While some may call it an “imaginary friend,” many in the paranormal field believe that there is a chance that this invisible person is either a spirit guide, guardian, or even a ghost.
Knowing that I love ghost stories, my friend recently told me about some things that are happening with her niece, Julie. Ever since she was a baby, Julie has spoken to someone who none of her family can see. Her parents would hear her moving around and making noise at two in the morning. When they went to check on her, they would find Julie sitting up, clapping her hands, and babbling at a corner of the wall by her crib. She did not look at her parents or involve them in this play. Instead, she would keep up this game, all the while staring at the wall. Then suddenly she would wave good-bye, roll over, and go back to sleep. Although slightly concerned with this behavior, the parents figured she was just self-soothing by entertaining herself with a game until she was too tired to stay awake.
The family lives in a different house now. Julie is two years old and learning to talk. She still plays with this unseen friend, only now he has a name. She has told her mommy and daddy that her friend is an old man named Jimmy. Sometimes she wakes up in her bed and says that the “old man” scared her. If her mom asks where Jimmy is, Julie will point out where she sees him. Sometimes he is in her playroom, but other times, Julie will take her mother’s hand and search the house until she finds him. She has also said that Jimmy is not here right now, but that he said that he would come back later.
“Jimmy” was the name of Julie’s great-grandfather. He died before any of his great-grandchildren were born, so Julie never met him. The mother has started experiencing some weird phenomena as well. Sometimes when she is working in the den, the room will grow heavy with the scent of tobacco. Neither she or her husband smoke. However, Great-Grandpa Jimmy was a big smoker.
Photo: The above photo is a baby picture of me with my father. The reason why I posted it is because you can see some mist or other light anomaly by my feet and next to me on the couch. The pajamas did not have any reflective material like sequins on it. Perhaps there was a spirit or two next to me?
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
This story was told to me by one of the campus security guards when I was a student at the College of Mount Saint Vincent. For my previous ghost stories about Marillac Hall, please see “A Strange Welcome” and “I thought I was Alone.”
This story is about the hill that runs beside Marillac Hall. The steepest hill on campus, it rises steadily at almost a ninety-degree angle. You can easily take a tumble on it if you are not careful. It’s near impossible to traverse in snow and icy weather and during a big storm, the rushing rainwater turns into a waterfall.
There is a legend about a ghost nun who walks around campus. Supposedly, she walks along the grounds by the administration building late at night and toward the early hours of the morning. Her journey ends when she gets to the top of Marillac Hill and mysteriously disappears. No one knows who she is or why she does this. Some think that perhaps this is her spirit guarding the school. Another theory is that this is a residual haunting and her apparition is a recording of something that she did frequently in life.
Being a homebody, unless there was a play or another campus event that I was interested in attending, I was usually in my dorm after the dinner hour. Even when I lived in Marillac Hall, I didn’t go out much after dark. One time in my senior year, I went to a visit a friend who was then living in Marillac. I was dorming in Spellman Hall that year because it stayed open year-round and I wanted a room that I could stay in during the breaks. We hung out until after midnight. My husband, then fiancé, was an RA on duty, so he couldn’t come and pick me up. Even though it was a safe campus, it could still be risky to walk around in deserted areas after dark. One of the services our college offered was a security escort between buildings and back and forth to the front gate. I had never used it before, but when the front desk encouraged it that night, I decided that I’d better be safe than sorry.
Spellman is up the hill from Marillac. The guard came and picked me up to drive me back to my dorm. I don’t remember it being particularly foggy that night. As we were driving up Marillac Hill, the ghost story of the nun came to mind. Now, I was trying not to look out the car windows for fear of seeing something. As we approached the top of the hill, I saw a patch of mist right in front of the car. I couldn’t say it was a fully developed apparition because it wasn’t well-formed, but a cold shiver passed over me as we drove through it.
Within a few minutes, we were back at Spellman. I thanked the guard for the ride and went inside. Wondering if I had really seen anything, I asked the guard at the front desk if he believed the legend of the ghost nun of Marillac Hill. He said that he wasn’t sure, but that a buddy of his, who also worked security for the Mount, had had a strange experience once.
The guards always did periodic rounds of the campus to make sure that everything was safe. One night, one of the guards was driving by when he saw a nun walking along Marillac Road. Being polite, he rolled down the window and called out, “Good evening, Sister! Need a lift?” Thinking she must not have heard him, he tried again. When she still didn’t respond, he decided to follow her just to make sure that she was okay. He watched as she turned toward Marillac Hall.
“Okay, she must be one of the nuns who lives there,” he said to himself. Having driven this far behind her, he still had to drive the car into the dorm’s parking lot to turn around. As he was about to do a U-turn, he noticed that the nun had walked past Marillac’s front door and toward the porch. For many years, the porch doors had been kept locked to make sure that there was only one entrance and exit for the building. Thinking that she must be confused, the guard got out of the car to help her.
“Wait! Sister, you can’t get in that way.”
When she finally turned around, the guard saw that the woman had no face. The apparition dematerialized right in front of him, leaving him standing alone on the deserted porch.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
Most of the houses in Regina’s neighborhood in North Philadelphia were built during the early 19th century. It was rumored that some had been constructed over an old cemetery, so there was no surprise that the town had a reputation for hauntings. Regina was about eight when she started noticing strange things happening in her house.
The previous owner of Regina’s home was an alcoholic who died while living in the house. Sometimes, Regina would see a male apparition. One day, Regina came home and saw a man sleeping on the couch. At first glance, she thought the man was her father. Then she watched as the figure got up, walked through the closed door, and down the block before fading away.
The dining room was also known for strange activity. Sometimes in the middle of the night, disembodied voices could be heard among the tinkling of the chandelier as it swayed back and forth. The floor had a mysterious stain that couldn’t be removed. Regina’s parents constantly tried to cover the dark mark, but it always managed to come through whatever carpet that they laid over it.
The eeriness permeated the rest of the house’s atmosphere, but only Regina and her sisters seemed to notice. As a young child, Regina was afraid of going upstairs by herself, especially at night. There were two chips in the paint that looked like gaping eye sockets. Even with her back turned, she felt like they were watching her.
Her parents’ closet door would open on its own. Outside their bedroom was a perpetual cold spot about five feet in diameter. It didn’t matter what time of the year it was, the iciness was always there and light always left the hallway in shadow.
One Easter, there was a terrible fire next door that caused extensive smoke damage. Regina’s family decided to move a few months later. A suffocating, almost violent feeling hung in the air as they packed up their belongings. Regina’s father went to drop some things off at the new house. On his return trip, Regina decided to go with him. Her mother, Rachel, and brother, Janiero, stayed behind.
After Regina left, the temperature in the house continued to drop until it was so cold that her mother and brother’s teeth were chattering. Janiero had to use the bathroom. They heard a creaking noise coming from upstairs. Looking up, mother and son watched as Regina’s bedroom door slowly closed on its own.
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
Happy Haunted Holidays from The Ghost Post! Please be advised that this will be the last post for 2016 as next Sunday is Christmas. The Ghost Post will resume posting new stories on January 2nd, 2017. I have a lot of new things in the works for 2017, including a ghost story magazine. Please stay tuned for more real ghost stories!
Best,
Tara Theresa Hill
For our five-year wedding anniversary, George and I decided to go to Washington, D.C. We both love history and he wanted to see the space exhibits at the Smithsonian. Since hotels outside of D.C. were cheaper, we stayed in a hotel in Virginia and drove into D.C. each day. I can usually count on at least one ghostly encounter per trip.
One of the attractions that we did was called Monuments in the Moonlight. This was a nighttime trolley tour of D.C.’s national monuments. Some of the scheduled stops let you out to explore. The tour included a drive through Arlington National Cemetery. Since it was already dark, they didn’t let us get out of the trolley. The trolley was an open-air one, so that you really got great views and pictures as they coasted by the monuments.
I was leaning with my fist on my chin, gazing out at the cemetery. My reverie was broken by the appearance of a glowing figure. At first, I took it to be a statue of a Civil War soldier that had been lit up somehow. I saw the uniform with the buttons down the front and the cap. I even noted that he had a handlebar mustache.
“That’s an amazingly detailed statue!” I thought to myself and shifted around in my seat to get a better look. The figure was gone. We had only just passed by it, so I should have been able to see it. I turned to my husband.
“Did you see the glowing statue of the Civil War soldier?”
“No. What statue?”
I pointed behind us. “There in the woods.”
“Honey, statues don’t generally glow.”
Then it hit me. I hadn’t seen a statue at all, but a full-blown apparition of a Civil War soldier on the eve of the 150th Anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg.
Thank you to my mother, Lady Rhea, from Bronx, NY for this story!
Rhea was born and raised on Cruger Avenue in the Bronx. After she got married, she moved into her first apartment in 1970. Her parents lived in the same building directly across from her. They could peer through their windows and tell that she was awake if they saw her lights on.
Rhea used to go downstairs to do her laundry at her mother’s because her parents had a washing machine in their apartment. She would then carry the laundry back upstairs to hang to dry in her place. Since her husband, David, had an office job in Manhattan, Rhea was always washing black dress socks.
A few months had passed since Rhea and David had moved into the apartment. Rhea was doing the weekly laundry. She had laid out six pairs of black socks on her white bedspread in two neat rows. She grabbed three pairs to put them in the drawer and then turned back for the remaining three.
Only two pairs of socks were left on the bed. Rhea paused. “Where the heck did the third one go? I know I had two rows of three,” she thought to herself.
After searching in vain for the missing pair, Rhea shrugged, and finished putting away the laundry. She was home all alone. She didn’t have a cat or dog that could have stolen the socks while she wasn’t looking and her husband was out on an errand.
Two weeks after this incident, Rhea came home to find the missing pair of black socks sitting on top of her bed. She always made the bed before she left for work in the morning. Freaking out, she ran downstairs to her mother’s apartment and told her what had happened. She thought that perhaps her mother had found a pair of David’s socks in her apartment from the last time that she had done the wash down there and had returned them to her.
“Did you go into my apartment while I was out, Ma?”
“No, Dear. I only go up there when you’re home.”
“Well, David is still at work and he left before me, so he couldn’t have done it.”
Her mother shrugged, ever the realist. “Maybe you just forgot that the socks were there.”
“I would have remembered if I had left a pair of black socks in the center of my white bedspread. No, they definitely weren’t there before I left this morning. Someone or something put them there.”
Rhea already knew that her apartment was haunted. Friends who came over would comment on seeing the shadow of an old woman sitting on her couch. Rhea describes her as being mostly see through, like a photo negative, rather than a solid, full-blown apparition. Some thought that this could have been the spirit of Rhea’s grandmother, Rose, who had also lived in the same apartment building until she died.
Rhea was right about the sock incident. This wasn’t the last time that things would vanish on her only to show up months or even in some cases, years later. But that’s another story!
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
Don lived in the same house in Williamsburg, Brooklyn from 1980 until this past June. The house is estimated to have been built no later than 1812. It has three floors, a sub-basement, and is connected to a separate brick building. Don’s landlord lived in the brick building.
Once when the landlord was away visiting family, Don heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Thinking it was someone attempting to break in, he armed himself with a bat and went to investigate. Creeping along, he finally reached the stairs only to find that no one was there. After a few more repeats of this event, Don started saying hi to the invisible spirit whenever he heard the footsteps.
Don’s girlfriend, Alyssa, had a different encounter with the ghost. Alyssa is the thirteenth generation of psychics in her family. One day, she told Don that the ghost in the house had come to her and complained about what was going on in the sub-basement. Don wasn’t aware of anything happening, but he decided to mention the incident to his landlord. The landlord was astounded. As it turned out, he had been setting off bug bombs in the basement and the ghost had not approved of it.
Three years after he had been buried, Alyssa’s uncle’s body had to be exhumed. Noting that he looked better than he had when he was alive, Alyssa asked Don for a reading to see how her uncle was doing on the Other Side. Everything went fine during the reading.
Later that night, Don was awakened by the presence of someone lying beside him. Don jumped out of bed to find the spot next to him empty, except that the blankets seemed slightly raised. Don and Alyssa mentioned the incident to Alyssa’s aunt who was then ninety-eight years old.
She laughed at them. “Don’t you know better? Doing readings about the dead draws them to you.”
If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.
The Ghost Post 