Glimpse of a Reaper

One of the things that bothers me about being psychic is the inability to control it or the type of information that I receive. I am not a psychic consultant or spiritual practitioner like my mother who makes her living from her abilities, so in many cases, the information just gets dumped into my head without much warning. Perhaps this is something every person with psychic abilities deals with.

I have had premonitions of death before. I knew that there was something wrong with my Grandfather months before he started showing any signs of illness. Loved ones have visited me in dreams to tell me that they are getting ready to pass. Again, I have no control over this. Sometimes I get messages and sometimes I don’t. It’s as simple as that.

Years ago, I was doing the dishes while my husband was taking care of our sick canary, Tweety. As I was running the water over my hands, I got an image of Tweety dying. I started to shake it off, only to hear my husband scream out the bird’s name from the other room. I dropped the dish I was washing, turned the water off, and ran into our living room. Tweety had passed away in my husband’s hands.

Over the past six months, I had started to worry about our pet parakeet, Skye. He was already seven years old, but seemed healthy enough. I put it down to my own anxiety and dismissed the worries as much as possible, but the ominous feeling kept nagging at me from time to time. Then a few weeks ago, Skye started losing his feathers on his lower quarters and seemed to have a protrusion of some kind, so my husband and I took him to the vet.

After the examination, the vet told us that there were two possibilities. Either, Skye was overweight and that was causing his feathers to fall out or he had a tumor. The vet explained that if it was a tumor, Skye would probably die from complications or shock from the surgery. If it wasn’t that, he was just too fat and losing weight would help. He advised us to change Skye’s diet and keep him as comfortable as possible.

We took Skye home and followed the vet’s instructions. While Skye’s feathers started to grow back, he also began having issues with his balance. He didn’t move around the cage as much and he stopped talking. Losing balance and being on the bottom of the cage were two of the things that the vet had warned us could be signs of a tumor, which again was inoperable.

Our apartment has large bay windows that look out over the small courtyard and pathway that runs through our housing complex. Last week, my husband and I were talking to my mother on speaker phone, when I spied a dark, hooded figure standing in the garden. The figure looked to be at least six or seven feet tall and was wearing a black cloak. It was around 6pm, but there was plenty of light coming from the lamp posts and the neighboring school’s soccer field. As I turned to get a better look, the apparition walked through the wrought iron stair railing by our house and vanished. The figure had appeared completely solid one minute and then dematerialized. I do not recall seeing a face of any sort, just blackness beneath the dark hood.

I told my husband that someone had been in the garden. He checked, but didn’t see anyone. I couldn’t get a reading on the spirit to figure out if it was benign, malevolent, female, or male. Freaked out, I closed the blinds and did a cleansing of the house. I had seen shadowy figures before, but never anything like that. I called my mom and told her about the apparition. I said that it reminded of an entity, rather than a ghost. The figure had immediately made me think of Death.

I felt a little better after the cleansing and decided to go to bed earlier than usual. For some reason, I didn’t want to be up alone by myself. This is odd for me since I am naturally a night person. Skye chirped at me when I came into the bedroom. He had taken to telling me off for disturbing him in the middle of the night as he got older. I fixed his cage cover and told him to go back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up and found Skye lying dead at the bottom of his cage. He had passed sometime in the night. Up until this moment, I didn’t believe in the Grim Reaper. Now, I’m not so sure.

Have you ever experienced a premonition of death? Share your experiences and thoughts in the comments.

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! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

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The Presence

Thanks to Regina for this story!  To read Regina’s first story, please see A Medium’s Rite of Passage.

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. 

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

Follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill for more updates and paranormal phenomena!

 

Black Socks

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. 

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

Follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill for more updates and paranormal phenomena!

When Strange Winds Blow

Thanks to Amy from West Virginia for this story!

Amy grew up with her grandparents in an old coal mining town.  Her grandfather built the house with his own hands using leftover wood from the church.  Amy’s grandfather passed away before she was born, but she heard plenty of stories about him.  A coal miner, he had also been a heavy smoker and had a reputation for being a curmudgeon.  Amy never felt her grandfather’s presence in the house while growing up, nor did she experience anything paranormal or out of the ordinary.

However, something strange did happen on the day of her grandfather’s death.  Unknown to Amy’s grandmother at the time, he had been crushed between two mining machines.  It was a terrible accident.

Amy’s grandmother was home alone when suddenly the back door flew open.  The gust of wind tore the curtains down in the living room.  When it reached the other side of the house, the front door opened inward, as if someone had pulled it open from the inside.  Then the wind exited the house and everything was still again.  Later, Amy’s grandmother discovered that this incident had occurred at the time of her husband’s death.

Amy still lives in her childhood home.  Things were fine until she did some major remodeling to modernize the place.  Every so often, a great wind blows through the house.  She has checked it out and there are no sources for these drafts.  She has also occasionally seen a shadow.  She is unsure whether the apparition’s presence makes her feel uncomfortable because of a vibe that it is giving off or if it is because of the background knowledge that she has about her grandfather.  Both Amy and her husband have sensed the spirit.  Sometimes the wind leaves the scent of tobacco in its wake, but no one in the house smokes.

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. 

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

If you enjoyed this article and would be interested in supporting my work, please check out my Patreon page. 

A Ghostly Interlude

This happened to me when I was a teenager growing up in the Bronx.  My family lived on Campbell Drive in the second floor apartment of a two-family house.  Built in 1942, it even still had the original glass doorknobs and other structural furnishings from that era.

From the beginning, Mom and I sensed that the place was haunted.  We’d see shadows moving out of the corner of our eyes.  The hallway lights that were activated by motion sensors would come on when no one was around.  Sometimes late at night, we’d get the feeling that there were people talking in the living room.  It was that kind of elevated energy vibe that you experience whenever you are at a party or in a restaurant.  The second we stepped into the living room, the atmosphere would return to normal.

One night, I was waiting for my mother to get home from work.  I was sitting on the couch deeply engrossed in a book when I suddenly heard piano music.  Before that moment, ghosts were the furthest thing from my mind.  The neighbors weren’t home, so it wasn’t a radio or someone else’s television.  The music was coming from our old, out of tune piano that we almost never played.

Steadying myself, I looked over to my left.  Just as I expected, the piano was closed and no one was sitting there.  I stared at it as the eerie music continued to flow beneath the invisible musician’s hands.  The tune was unfamiliar to me.  After another minute, there was a loud jarring sound as if someone had purposely banged on the keys, then the music stopped as quickly as it had begun.

I swallowed once or twice, the oppressive silence roaring in my ears.  Nodding, I got up and said, “Well, so much for watching the electric bill!”  Then I turned on the television, switched on all of the lights, and waited for mom to get home.

 

The House that Never Sleeps

Thanks to Renee for contributing this story!

On Englewood Avenue in Teaneck, New Jersey there is an old, white house with high levels of paranormal activity.  Renee states that her family has known very little peace since buying the house in 1960.  The spirits are particularly disturbing at night.  After everyone has gone to bed, you can hear doors opening and closing and sounds of a loud party going on downstairs.  However, if you brave your fears and check below, the noise stops.  Family members have reported seeing dark shadows walking around and incidents of waking to find ghostly figures standing by their beds.

Built in 1917, the house was part of Dr. Gaylord’s extensive property.  The original house included six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a powder room, and a kitchen.  Renee’s family built on additional rooms.  Most of the negative activity takes place in the newer parts of the house.

One account that Renee shared with me happened when she was a child.  She and her siblings were playing outside.  A little boy appeared and asked if he could join in their game.  After a while, Renee’s mother went into the yard and called for her kids to come inside.  They turned to say goodbye to their new friend, only to see him vanish.  They never saw him again.

A man resembling President Ulysses S. Grant has been said to appear inside of the house or on the grounds.  The scariest part is all that you see is his head floating by as if he is walking, but there is no body attached.  The family has found flags and bullets on the property.  While the former president could not have been in the house being it was built after his death, there is evidence that he knew the Gaylord family and perhaps had visited their estate before.

Big bursts of activity usually occur around the holidays.  One Thanksgiving, Renee’s sister saw the face of a red-headed man and she screamed.  Later on that same night, she was carrying a bowl of gravy when a portrait suddenly fell off the mantel, causing her to drop the platter she was carrying and scald herself.  Renee’s aunt was visiting and mentioned that she wanted to see a ghost.  The red-headed man must have taken this as a challenge because she woke up to see his face leering above her bed.  Unable to get back to sleep, she went to stay in a hotel.

Unlike other places where the spiritual phenomena fluctuate, this house continues to have a high level of activity.  It would seem that both the living and the dead residents are constantly vying for space.  Thankfully, most hauntings are not as intrusive as this one.

 

Footsteps after Dark

Thanks to my mother, Lady Rhea of Magickal Realms from Bronx, NY for this story.

Lady Rhea is a third degree, Wiccan high priestess.  For over forty years, she has held circles, crafted candle magick, and has performed various types of psychic readings.  She has done Ouija board readings and done other types of oracle-based rituals.  However, in this case, she did not try to make contact.  Her New Age store was located in the Bronx’s City Island at the time of this ghostly encounter.

It was February 2013.  Lady Rhea was alone in the basement glittering candles.  It was 8:30pm and the store was closed.  Rhea was the only one in the store at this time.  She paused in her work as she heard loud, heavy footsteps walking across the floor upstairs.  They went down the aisle, turned the corner to the basement stairs, came down three steps and stopped.  From the angle of her work table, Rhea could not see who was standing on the staircase.  Picking up her Exacto knife and a pan of glitter, she crept up to surprise the intruder.

Only, she didn’t see anyone there.  Cautiously, she went up the steps to investigate the store.  The front door was still secure.  She turned on all the lights, checked the two bathrooms, and any other possible hiding places, but again she found the place empty.  Rhea called one of her friends to come pick her up and take her home early.  After this unnerving incident, she refused to stay in the store by herself at night again.

Later in 2014, a photographer was interested in filming the store for a potential show.  He took two pictures of the basement area to show where Lady Rhea created her candles and manufactured other products.  After the photoshoot was done, Rhea received a call from him saying that she might be interested in seeing what his camera had captured in the basement.  Rhea’s heart thudded when she viewed the photos.  One picture was a normal shot, but the very next shows the shadowy outline of a tall man.

Another time, someone who was doing psychic readings at the store took a picture of the entrance to the basement along with other pictures of the store.  The picture of the basement showed the area shrouded in fathomless, dark, grey smoke.  This was when the lights had been turned on and there was no one smoking nearby.  They had not left any incense burning either.  Between these and other problems, the store was relocated to Westchester Square in the summer of 2014.