True Ghost Stories: Real Accounts of Death and Dying, Grief and Bereavement, Soulmates and Heaven, Near Death Experiences, and Other Paranormal Mysteries (The Supernatural Book Series: Volume 3) Read Online Free
over the top of me. Strangely, it did not worry me at the time. I believe it was my brother.
The Singing Monk
I was staying with my husband and baby daughter in a very old house in Devon, UK. It is a property owned by the Landmark Trust.
I was eight months pregnant at the time, in need of the loo in the night, but strangely I felt terrified of walking down the passage by myself. My husband kindly agreed to accompany me every night.
One night, wide awake, I heard a man's voice singing a tune I know, but the tune ended on a discord, which made it rather frightening. Then, I heard a laugh. I was terrified and could not move!
Later, my husband read the visitors' book (I had not read it at that point) and pointed out a discussion by some annual visitors, about a ghost who was described as a monk (aren't they all?)
One comment said he was never seen, only heard, and the note said: If he likes you, he will sing to you! Though I did not appreciate his sense of humour.
Unacceptable Behavior
A group of us was walking home from the pub one night. We had not drunk too much, so we were fairly compos mentis. Part of our journey to my mate's flat involved a walk through a small churchyard. There we noticed two youngsters in front of us who seemed to be wearing strange old clothes (Victorian maybe?) They looked a little bedraggled.
We started jeering at the boys, and threw stones at them - as boys will be boys. They looked at us but seemed totally unconcerned with our hostile actions. We kept following them until they went around a corner that leads to a dead end. We were only a few seconds behind them, yet when we turned the corner, they had completely disappeared.
There was a large wall that was over nine foot high, so it was unlikely that they could have climbed over it, especially in such a short duration of time. The only other way out was through us and they certainly did not come our way. To say ur group was puzzled would be a bit of an understatement. We decided to go back to the pub and drown our uneasiness with some more beer.
Convicts, A Penal Colony, and Oppression
I visited Maria Island (also known as The Isle of the Dead) at Port Arthur, in Tasmania Australia when I was about 7 years old. If you have not heard of the history of the place it was the burial land for convicts transported from England. I remember I was quite emotionally distressed by the visit to the Island. Although there were only a few tourists visiting the day we were there, I felt as though the island was crowded with people (like a very overcrowded lift) and the mood was VERY heavy.
I only knew the island as Maria Island and was not aware at age seven of its significance or role it played in the history of the penal colony at Port Arthur. I discovered (as an adult) that my mother also felt this overcrowded feeling.
A Secret No More
I was 22 years old and my boyfriend and I had been going out for a couple of months. I visited my future husband (boyfriend, at the time) at his family's home late after work one night.
His parents were asleep and we were in the lounge room talking. I leant over and gave my boyfriend a cuddle, and as I did I was drawn to look up at the corner of the room. All I saw was a man's face staring down at me. He had hippie hair and a beard. This face drained all my energy from my body, and I couldn't even get to the bathroom, even though I felt like I was about to be sick.
My future husband helped me get there by lifting me up and carrying me. I was hysterical; I told him what I had seen and what I had experienced. He said, you have just described my older brother who died in a car accident.
I said that he wasn't happy about something and that was why he had affected me so much. About six months later, my husband's sister-in-law told him that his brother had actually committed suicide 14 years prior, when my
The Singing Monk
I was staying with my husband and baby daughter in a very old house in Devon, UK. It is a property owned by the Landmark Trust.
I was eight months pregnant at the time, in need of the loo in the night, but strangely I felt terrified of walking down the passage by myself. My husband kindly agreed to accompany me every night.
One night, wide awake, I heard a man's voice singing a tune I know, but the tune ended on a discord, which made it rather frightening. Then, I heard a laugh. I was terrified and could not move!
Later, my husband read the visitors' book (I had not read it at that point) and pointed out a discussion by some annual visitors, about a ghost who was described as a monk (aren't they all?)
One comment said he was never seen, only heard, and the note said: If he likes you, he will sing to you! Though I did not appreciate his sense of humour.
Unacceptable Behavior
A group of us was walking home from the pub one night. We had not drunk too much, so we were fairly compos mentis. Part of our journey to my mate's flat involved a walk through a small churchyard. There we noticed two youngsters in front of us who seemed to be wearing strange old clothes (Victorian maybe?) They looked a little bedraggled.
We started jeering at the boys, and threw stones at them - as boys will be boys. They looked at us but seemed totally unconcerned with our hostile actions. We kept following them until they went around a corner that leads to a dead end. We were only a few seconds behind them, yet when we turned the corner, they had completely disappeared.
There was a large wall that was over nine foot high, so it was unlikely that they could have climbed over it, especially in such a short duration of time. The only other way out was through us and they certainly did not come our way. To say ur group was puzzled would be a bit of an understatement. We decided to go back to the pub and drown our uneasiness with some more beer.
Convicts, A Penal Colony, and Oppression
I visited Maria Island (also known as The Isle of the Dead) at Port Arthur, in Tasmania Australia when I was about 7 years old. If you have not heard of the history of the place it was the burial land for convicts transported from England. I remember I was quite emotionally distressed by the visit to the Island. Although there were only a few tourists visiting the day we were there, I felt as though the island was crowded with people (like a very overcrowded lift) and the mood was VERY heavy.
I only knew the island as Maria Island and was not aware at age seven of its significance or role it played in the history of the penal colony at Port Arthur. I discovered (as an adult) that my mother also felt this overcrowded feeling.
A Secret No More
I was 22 years old and my boyfriend and I had been going out for a couple of months. I visited my future husband (boyfriend, at the time) at his family's home late after work one night.
His parents were asleep and we were in the lounge room talking. I leant over and gave my boyfriend a cuddle, and as I did I was drawn to look up at the corner of the room. All I saw was a man's face staring down at me. He had hippie hair and a beard. This face drained all my energy from my body, and I couldn't even get to the bathroom, even though I felt like I was about to be sick.
My future husband helped me get there by lifting me up and carrying me. I was hysterical; I told him what I had seen and what I had experienced. He said, you have just described my older brother who died in a car accident.
I said that he wasn't happy about something and that was why he had affected me so much. About six months later, my husband's sister-in-law told him that his brother had actually committed suicide 14 years prior, when my
Readers choose
Shelley Munro
Hazel St. James
Kate Klimo
Jennifer Lewis
Gav Thorpe
Kathleen Peacock
Marika Cobbold
Thomas Fleming
J. Meyers