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- [00:01]
Celsius Energy Drink Narrator
5:00am I'm up with a crisp Celsius energy drink running 12 miles today. Grab a green juice, quick change and head to work. Meetings, workshops. One more Celsius. No slowing down. Working late but obviously still meeting the girls for a little dancing. Celsius Live Fit. Go grab a cold refreshing Celsius at your local retailer or locate now@celsius.com Ugh.
- [00:25]
Depop Advertiser
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- [00:42]
Podcast Host / Storyteller
Hey, still got my hoodie?
- [00:43]
Depop Advertiser
Nope. But I've got tonight's dinner paid for. Start selling on Depop where taste recognizes taste list now with no selling fees, payment processing fees and boosting fees still apply. See website for details.
- [00:54]
Podcast Host / Storyteller
Hey welcome back to the podcast. I really hope you enjoy this episode and and if you'd like to hear more stories like these with a different background sound, please check the description to check out my other two podcasts. And if you want to get rid of all of the ads, you can subscribe for just 2.99amonth. Last thing, I really appreciate you being here and I'd really love if you would follow the podcast and come back again soon. Thank you so much.
- [01:19]
Mint Mobile Advertiser
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- [01:37]
Celsius Energy Drink Narrator
Switch upfront payment of $45 for 3 month plan equivalent to $15 per month required intro rate first 3 months only,
- [01:45]
Podcast Host / Storyteller
then full price plan options available, taxes and fees extra. See full terms@mintmobile.com 30 years ago blinds.com
- [01:52]
Blinds.com Advertiser
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- [02:25]
Podcast Host / Storyteller
I was 22 years old at the time, I witnessed something that no one should ever have to witness in a million lifetimes. I am now 36 and I won't lie, it has deeply affected me as if it happened yesterday. So on this beautiful Saturday afternoon, I hop in my car to go to the little neighborhood store that's located at the front of my neighborhood. One of those little convenience stores where the owner has known you since you were in diapers. To preface, this store is located right across the street from a very busy train track. And the road between the store and the tracks is an extremely busy main road. Two lanes one way, two lanes the other way. As I'm putting my car in park, I step out and walk towards the door of the store. I decided to finish smoking my cigarette. As I'm puffing away, I notice a middle aged woman, maybe mid, late 40s, standing on the sidewalk across the street next to a bus stop sign. But something was very off about this woman, mainly because she was yelling and arguing with the bus stop sign, making a huge scene. Now where this woman is standing and throwing herself about is across that busy main road on the sidewalk where the bus stop sign is and the train tracks are behind her. It was very obvious she was either on something or or was a serious mental health case. At this point, I have already finished my cigarette, but could not stop watching this crazy woman actually arguing with a bus stop sign. Then out of nowhere, she somehow makes eye contact with me. Literally beelines her attention right to me. Before I could even register she was looking at me. She basically jumps into the road and proceeds to play Frogger across the busy street, ducking, dodging cars, running right towards me. She didn't seem to even notice that she was almost hit three times trying to make it to the store and to me. I am in such shock and awe watching this woman, I couldn't move. And let me remind you, her whole trip across this road, she never, not once, took her eyes off me. She somehow makes it over to where I'm standing at the front of the store. Once she's within three feet of me, she starts screaming about how she needs a cigarette, loudly and very aggressively, all while her arms and legs and head are jerking around what we call flopping really bad. I reach into my bag to get this poor woman a cigarette and as I go to hand it to her, I can hear her saying over and over, gotta hurry, gotta hurry. It's almost time. Still stuck in awe, I extend my lighter out to her so she can light her cigarette. The second she takes a drag. A very loud train whistle is heard. Now, when she hears this train whistle, I kid you not, it's like I watch this strange sense of calm wash over this woman and her head jerks so quickly in the direction of the train whistle, her body almost goes limp. She drops her cigarette and takes off running back across the busy road without hesitation. I watch her get back to the sidewalk, walk up a small embankment to where the train tracks are, and she stands there, hands behind her back, leaning forward like an excited little kid waiting to see the choo choo. Her head looks left, then right, then left again. And at this point, I can see the train coming. Oh, and it's an Amtrak train, so it's going a good 100 miles per hour. As the train nears where this woman is so patiently standing, I watched this woman ever so casually, like she was stepping through a doorway, step right in front of the speeding train. To be honest, it happened so fast and so suddenly, it didn't quite register at first. All I could see is this fine red mist spray all over the train, the tracks and the sidewalk. My jaw was on the floor. I couldn't speak. Blink, look away. I don't even think I had actually taken a breath for a good three minutes by the time I came back down to earth. The store owner, we'll call him Sammy, runs out of the store with his hands over his mouth and his eyes as wide as saucers and is standing next to me. Neither one of us could speak. Once Sammy and I were able to process what just happened, Sammy runs back in the store to call 911. When Sammy returns back outside, he looks at me and asks, did you just witness that woman jump in front of a moving train? The only response I could muster was she didn't jump. She just simply stepped right in front of it. Like it wasn't a speeding train but a fluffy cloud. It didn't take the police long before they were on the scene calling for the biohazard crew to come literally scoop this woman's remains, or what was left of her, off the tracks in the sidewalk. And when I say scoop, I mean they showed up with actual shovels. So, still in utter shock, I tell the police officers exactly what just occurred, detail for detail, and wrote my statement. Once I go to hand the officer his clipboard back, I look at his face and his eyes were also as wide as saucers and his jaw was on the floor as well as he is getting ready to go over and talk to what I could only assume were his superiors. He says, ma', am, you might want to think about receiving some counseling after this. Now, I know he was just being polite and showing concern, but the only thing I was able to get out of my mouth was a dazed and confused uh, yeah. I don't know how much longer I just stood in that same spot, even after the cleanup crew had gone, my brain continuously replaying that horrid scene over and over until Sammy comes back outside and claps his hands right in front of my face. I shake my head as if I come back to reality. I look at Sammy and simply say, I gave her her last cigarette. I fished my keys out of my pocket, got in my car and went home, not even getting what I came to the store for in the first place. I want to end this crazy day in my life with a simple if you or anyone you know is suffering with an addiction or mental health issues, don't go it alone. Seek help, please. For a little bit of context, this was more than 20 years ago when I was just a kid young enough to believe in the Easter Bunny. One night before Easter, I was having a sleepover with my cousins at my house, talking and having fun all until it was time to go to sleep. Now, as it is relevant to the story, I used to always sleep on my stomach since it was more comfortable for me when I was younger. I could never just sleep on my back or on my side as most people did. We were all sleeping on the floor. I laid on my stomach as I usually did, and listened to my cousin's conversations get smaller and smaller until finally everyone fell asleep. The room was pitch black and quiet, outside of the home being even quieter as I didn't hear even the crickets making noise. I stayed awake through the silence, the excitement to see the Easter Bunny taking over my mind. It seemed like an eternity that I was laying there while everyone else peacefully slept until I heard heavy footsteps in the living room, which was rather close to the room my cousins and I were sleeping in. It's the Easter Bunny, I thought to myself. I immediately shut my eyes once I heard him enter the room. Even though my head was facing away from the door, I decided to close my eyes just in case. The heavy footsteps didn't seem to wander around the room, but straight towards where I was sleeping. I started to get a little confused since I didn't hear him just place down some baskets or bags and then leave. I laid there still as I heard the footsteps stop abruptly right beside me. It felt like hours that I could Just hear the heavy breathing above me, piercing through the silence of the room until suddenly a long and pointy fingernail touched the back of my neck. I felt myself become paralyzed in fear as the Easter Bunny made a mark of an X on the back of my neck. Though it was not sharp enough to make me bleed or leave a scar on my neck, it still terrified me enough to make me just stay still and not dare turn around. I ended up falling back asleep, not having anything else to do but fall back asleep. I don't know what it was that walked into my house that night, but what I do know, it was not the Easter Bunny. I am addicted to liminal spaces. You can find plenty of videos with examples across YouTube. Before I knew what liminal meant, I was enthralled with the idea to put it as simply as I can. The definition of liminal describes the initial or transitional stage of a process. It is also the boundary of a threshold. I guess I identify most with the stillness and strangeness of these places. There's usually no exit. You can see they are empty and most have an overwhelming nostalgic feel. It's like we have been to these places before. Seeing a living room with no furniture. An old 80s style green carpet speaks to some of us. I'm sure most had a friend's place that looked like this. Or maybe it was your own house. When you image search liminal spaces, there are a lot of hallways that pop up. I'm sure not many of us have hallways in our home, but you must have been to a hotel or two, right? It's familiar but eerie. It's the best example of liminal. It's a transition. A hallway takes you somewhere, but when you can't see the exit immediately, it is sometimes heart pounding. There is something about the fear of these places that appeals to me. Don't get me wrong, I love the nostalgia. But fear is what drives me. Fear keeps you alive. The deeper I dove into liminal spaces, the deeper down the rabbit hole I got. I live here now. I seek it. I seek what you are too afraid to find. I have been in the back rooms and survived. My first time I didn't even know what was happening. I had no idea I was there. After I realized what happened to me and how fortunate I was I was addicted. You think it's hard to no clip back to reality? Try doing it dozens of times. This is the first time it happened to me. Three years ago I was a deputy sheriff for one of the larger cities in the US at the Time I was assigned to the electronic monitoring unit we installed and monitored tethers or ankle bracelets. Each officer had a caseload of 30 to 40. If the offender was fortunate enough to receive a tether as part of their bond condition, then we would enforce the rules associated with said tether. Usually it went well with most obeying their court ordered curfews or house arrest rules. Some men and women were assigned alcohol tethers. It's like a handheld preliminary breath test which they had to blow in five times a day to prove they are not inhibiting alcohol. Of course, these are mainly given out for drunk driving type offenses. I'm sure you could figure that part out. I was sitting at my desk monitoring my caseload, doing paperwork, whatever encompasses my day to day work life. A partner of mine, C came up to me dropping a file on my desk. Uh, what's this? I said, name's not important. She has missed several blows. Can't get ahold of her. I have a couple locations she might be at. Do you want to go look for her with me? He said, this is another part of our job, one that is always exciting when someone tries to cut their device off or doesn't fulfill their responsibilities imposed on them by the court. We go look for the offender. We call them absconders. They are now violating their bond conditions and we have to find them. Being that alcohol tethers don't have a GPS element to them, we have some work to put in to find them. As mentioned, the offender he was looking at had not taken an alcohol test in a while. He made some calls determining what the last location she was at. We started there to set the scene. The subject was at a location in southwest Detroit, not a great area. It was about 8 o' clock at night in the late fall, which meant it was cold and dark. Tough conditions to start searching for someone. Pulling up to the possible last known location, we were looking at a house that looked out of place for that area Southwest is known to have one bedroom ranch style houses. This residence looked like something out of Hill House. It was a well kept, maybe a three bedroom, three bath home. The lawn was beautiful. The lanterns outside were pretty but felt foreboding. As soon as we approached the front door, I had a bad feeling. I posted at the corner of the house. My partner, C. Went to the front door. After knocking on the door and announcing ourselves as part of the sheriff's department, it slowly opened. A lady slowly peeked her head out. Strangely enough, she focused her gaze on me, not my partner. Right in front of the door. I'll never forget her face. It was human, make no mistake about that. But it looked like paper mache with a long scraggly wig on top. I honestly couldn't tell what ethnicity she was. Her skin had a glisten to it, but the color was off putting gray. My partner continued with the mission. Ma', am, we're here with the sheriff's department. Is Camille here? She finally moved her gaze from me to my partner. Her dead black eyes stared at Cee for a moment before she finally spoke. Camille? Yes. Yes she is here. My partner looked at me with a what are we getting ourselves into? Kind of look. Okay, great. So can we come in and talk to her? He asked her without technically giving consent. The supposed homeowner turned around and waved us inside. I made my way inside behind my partner while C talked to the strange woman. I immediately noticed a ledger book on an older looking desk right in front of the door. It had several entries from what appeared to be caretakers. The person signed their name, when they arrived, when they departed, and a summary of what they did. As I suspected, these people were caretakers of sorts. This lady obviously could not take care of herself and needed some in home nurse help. I quietly tapped my partner on the shoulder showing him the book. The name of the person we were looking for was in the book several times, although she had not signed in on the day we were here. Not quite sure what our next move was, we talked about searching this place at this moment. I felt a bump on my leg while we were talking. We both seemed to forget about the lady we were talking to. Looking down, I jumped back a bit seeing the strange woman on all fours at my feet. She slowly looked up at me. Chamile is all she said. And that is all she would say louder and louder. Chamile. Chamile. Camille. She almost screamed. She scooted around on her butt, using her arms to move her body around the floor. Now we were in real disbelief. Okay man, let's just clear this house and if we find her, we find her. C said. We both knew this situation was off but started searching the house. The entire time this woman was yelling for Chamile, never once getting back to her feet, just kind of following us on the ground. The time must have been around 9 o'clock at night and it was dark. The inside of the home had one light on. There were no TVs or any electronics of any kind. The house had a strange feeling to it. The layout of this older style home had about four Bedrooms and two floors. Every time I left a room, I swear I was in a part of the house I had not just been in. I would enter a hallway and seemingly be in another part of the house. Like I entered a dimensional gap or something. The woman would sometimes be right behind me without making a sound. I was starting to question how all of this was possible. At one point, we both entered the upstairs, which looked to be a regular upstairs with bedrooms or maybe a bathroom at the top of the stairs. As we opened the door initially, it would not budge. It appeared that it had been sealed somehow, like it had been painted over and the paint had dried in the seams of the door. After putting a little extra effort, the door opened, revealing an attic, not bedrooms. If you remember paranormal activity when the guy finds a picture of his wife as a child in the insulation. That's what it looked like. There was nothing but storage space, insulation and an older style lightbulb with a string hanging from it. The lady was just sitting at the bottom of the stairs watching us, occasionally yelling for chamile. After what seemed like an hour of searching this house, repeatedly going into rooms, I swear I had just left. We called it and cleared the property as we drove off. The woman was now standing right in front of the door, staring at us as we left. According to when we called dispatch and when we cleared, we were only there for 20 minutes. It felt like we were there for well over an hour or two. I don't know what was more unsettling. The fact that it was late at night. The lady yelling Camille's name and scooting on her hands and knees. Her quietly showing up right behind me when I had not heard her move. Or the fact that she was standing at the door, just staring at us as we left. We have not returned to this house. We didn't tell anyone the true story of what had happened. It wasn't until much later I realized I was in some form of the back rooms. My partner too. I imagine it is a miracle we both survived. At one point, I opened a bedroom door and was outside behind me. My partner bumped into me. We both reached for our weapons. Thankfully, seeing the threat was each other. I already searched out there, he said. I was confused, but just let it go. I couldn't understand what we were doing here. That is what started my fascination of the liminal world. I began actively looking for this world again. I have found it plenty of times. I quit my job with the sheriff's department. I now traverse the ethereal plane known as the Back rooms. I have conquered the main levels, even finding some of the bilevels. I have traded with and met some great explorers. I can't admit this to anyone, but I have been trying to find that original house that led to my first backroom experience. I have not found it, but I know it's out there. I will travel for the rest of my life until I see it again in this world or the next. I am an aspiring actor and filmmaker and the film I'm working on is about liminal spaces. For those who don't know, liminal spaces are between what was and what is about to be. A space that seems very uncomfortable and fully devoid of people, but it's actually very normal. The reason I'm bringing this up is because I actively seek out these spaces to get inspiration and possible filming locations. One of these times I seeked out one of these spaces ended up being one of the scariest experiences of my life. The space in question was a park. Since I live out in the middle of nowhere, I have to drive about 30 minutes to get there. The park closes at dusk, so I typically park near the entrance and walk there. Keep in mind this was around 11pm I felt a very strong atmospheric tension as I was walking there, but this is very normal. Not only am I breaking the rules, but the scariest aspect of these liminal spaces is the tension in the atmosphere. I went around the gate and made my way around to the park to set the scene. The parking lot is in a sideways L shape. The short side leads to a big trail surrounded by a dense forest, and the long side leads all the way to the park. The rest of this park is just an empty field, typically not illuminated by any lights, making it a really big void. This part will be relevant later. When I got to the park portion, I proceeded to look around for good photo opportunities and places to put secret background details. I'd guessed that this was around 10 minutes later, but I suddenly froze. I felt like someone was watching me. This is in another aspect of these spaces that isn't uncommon, but my gut was telling me that something was very wrong about this. My anxiety got worse when I heard a noise coming from some unknown direction. I panicked and I hid next to the bathrooms, facing the opposite of the field. As I peeked behind the building, I saw a few lights from facing away from me. They were aiming at the field, but they were moving a bit, as if someone with shaky hands was holding a flashlight. I felt as though alerting the people with the flashlights was a death sentence. I tried sneaking my way back to my car, but I noticed something strange. The lights were still facing the field, but they seemed as though they were close. Closer. I started speed walking to the car, but I only realized a bit too late that I was not being very quiet. While I was speed walking, I was suddenly flashed by a bright light. My adrenaline rushed, my heart sank and I instantly began sprinting. But so did the lights. I heard footsteps running toward me, but I never heard any voices. When I got to my car, I locked the door and instantly tried driving away. The thing is, when my car turned on, the lights stopped and stayed there. I never shined my lights in that direction at all simply because I wanted to get out of there. As I drove off, I was trying to process what happened. Even though I was there hoping to get inspiration for a horror film, I never expected to have an experience like that while I was out. I did get the inspiration I needed, but I couldn't think straight. I didn't care about the film at that point and was glad that I managed to get out alive. I tried doing research the next day, but I couldn't find any news related to anything like that. I was baffled by this whole situation and I still cannot wrap my head around it. I have no idea who they were, why they were there, or what they were going to do to me. The only thing I know is that what happened back there will be an experience I will never forget. I am a 27 year old male and I need to get this off my chest. Everything you are about to hear is possibly one of the most bizarre things to ever happen to me. When I was younger, my mother used to live in a house in a small town. The old town is known for its history. On its coastline, castles and other historical buildings are dotted around. I loved it. Growing up in a location like that was an absolute dream. The beautiful English countryside. There were so many forests where I would play with my cousins and younger sister. I have always been somewhat interested in the paranormal and growing up where we did, of course it made for some great urban legends and ghost stories. The house that we lived in was Victoria Victorian. I can't tell you the exact date, but it was well over 100 years old. It had three floors. There was something about the top floor that I loved. Don't ask me why, I was just drawn to it. On the top floor there were three rooms, mine being the first. A rather big room with beams on the ceiling and an odd window, sort of like a flower shape, I guess you could say with bars on the outside. The other two rooms my mother didn't really like me going into until I was older. If you peeked through the keyhole of the last room, you could distinctly see a servant's bell in the corner. This door was the only one with a padlock on it, preventing me or anyone besides my mother from entering. There was a lot of cool but strange, strange things in that house. We found a lot of things too. Old coins, etc. My mother used to work all the time and as a result of my father not being around, my grandma would take on the challenge of looking after me and my sister. We were mostly pretty easy going. We'd get back from school and while my sister would get on with her homework, me, not being the very academic kid, would go and play outside in the garden. Me and my grandma are close and remain so to this day. She's a Christian woman, but is very open to the possibility of the paranormal. I have shared with her recently some of the experiences I had as a child. I'm going to try to keep this short so I won't go into too much detail. When I was a bit older. I remember being out for lunch when I was up visiting my family as I moved away from my hometown. This was around two or so years ago. My mother went to the bathroom so it was only me and my grandma left at the table. I can't remember what we had been talking about, but the conversation shifted. She started talking about the house, the one we grew up in. She started talking about the cold energy she felt from it, the negativity. She had never brought this up before. She leaned in closer and said, do you remember what you used to say to me? No, I replied. I was confused at this point. She leaned in ever so closely and dropped her voice to a hushed whisper and said, do you remember when you would play in the corner of the garden? Well, one day I could see you were talking to yourself, so I laughed and came over and asked who you were talking to. I was just sat there looking at her, confused for a few seconds before she said the line which will haunt me forever. You looked up at me and smiled, she said. She took a deep breath and looked at me dead in the eyes. Can you not see her, Grandma? It's the woman in black who lives in the bottom of the garden. I can't really remember a lot of my childhood. Some bits are kinda blurry. I don't ever remember talking to a woman in the bottom of the garden that no one else could see. Fast forward to last week, I've been having a hard time sleeping recently. The other night I was up until about 5am before I drifted off. Once I did, I had possibly the worst nightmare I have ever had. She was there looking at me, this woman witch draped in black, an old tattered cloth covering her eyes, her mouth open showing nothing but a void. Something clicked and she was behind me, right by my left shoulder. Her bones cracked. As I turned my head. Ever so slowly, she whispered in my ears, remember me. I'm the woman in black from the bottom of the garden. This experience took place nearly 15 years ago, back when my parents were taking me to our local daycare Center. I was 6 years old at the time and was a shy kid but loved to play with strangers, especially if they wanted to play video games with me. I didn't know everyone at the daycare center because new kids would come and go all the time. I did know a few of the kids as some of them I met in elementary school. Josh and Nolan were two of my best friends and I happened to meet them both during recess at school. I only went to daycare after school for around an hour or two depending on the circumstances. Both Josh and Nolan loved playing in the jungle gym and playing hide and seek, both of which were not my forte. Whenever we would play hide and seek, it would usually take place in the cemetery directly across from the daycare jungle gym. The daycare jungle gym was not very spacious and had virtually no trees or shrubs to hide behind, thus making the cemetery the only option if we were going to have a proper hide and seek session. One evening, both Josh and Nolan asked if I wanted to play outside with them. I was playing my favorite Wii game at the time and had just met a new friend. We were playing Mario Kart together and I seemed to be winning. I asked my new friend what his name was and he seemed to look confused at the sight of me asking. Both Josh and Nolan also seemed pretty perplexed as they just witnessed this kid brush me off like I didn't say anything. Nolan, out of curiosity, asked, hey, any chance you want to play hide and seek with us? The kid sitting next to me put down the controller and turned to me with the most blank, lifeless expression I have ever seen on another human being's face and said, I'm only going to play if my new friend wants to play too. Both Josh and Nolan turned to me for approval and I shrugged. We set off to the exit door which led to the jungle gym. We asked Mrs. Shaw, our supervisor, if we could go out and play like we always do. And she agreed. Both me, the stranger, Josh and Nolan waited and looked around for the next supervisor to switch watch duty shifts and leave everyone unsupervised as this was our only chance to hop the gate which led next door to the nearly 15 acre graveyard. This graveyard was full of trees and shrubs as well as large tombstones that were perfect for what we had in mind. As soon as we ran far enough from the supervisor's view, we all hid behind a large shrub. Josh, as usual, was the fastest one to place his finger on his nose and shout not it. Followed by Nolan and then me. The strange kid again with the same lifeless expression on his face, just stared at me and stayed as still as a mouse. It was almost like he was trying to hide from something because as far as I could tell he wasn't even breathing. I had to check up on him at this point as he was crying, creeping my friends out. Hey, are you feeling okay? Look, we don't have to play in the graveyard today if you don't want to. I think it's kind of creepy too. He then turned to Nolan and stared directly in his eyes and said, my name is William, but my dad calls me Will for short. Nolan looked just as perplexed as I did as we asked him this question question nearly ten minutes prior. I had to break the awkwardness of the moment and told everyone I was going to be the seeker. I was trying to help my new friend, but at the same time don't know if he was even interested in playing the game anymore as he didn't speak or say anything for quite some time. I started counting down from 20 and just as I did, both Josh and Nolan ran across the cemetery at the speed of light to find the best hiding spot. William just stood there staring at me with the same lifeless expression as before, but this time he almost looked angry. It was subtle, but I could see his eye twitching back and forth almost like he has a big secret to tell me but can't and for some reason is internalizing the frustration. I then tell him to go hide as I am already at 10 seconds and if he doesn't hurry, he won't have time to find a hiding spot. He does a quick 180 and runs in the opposite direction back to the daycare playground. I take it as a sign that he doesn't want to play anymore and is going to tell on us. I quickly run around the cemetery frantically thinking this kid is going to get us in trouble and scream Josh and Nolan's names. They come out of their hiding spots to see if everything is okay and I tell them what is happening. Nolan, out of nowhere bursts into a rage and goes about how this kid is going to ruin this game for everyone as now they will be keeping an eye on the cemetery for once. We quickly hurry back to the playground and to our amazement there are no teachers searching the area for us. In fact, William is nowhere to be seen as we thought we would catch him in the act. We quickly hop over the gate and run inside to locate William. I tell Josh to look upstairs as we left our backpacks up there beside the video games. Noland and I check the downstairs area where all the playhouses and other large toys are kept. We never ended up finding finding William that night and as the night drew to a conclusion we had to at least ask Mrs. Shaw, our favorite supervisor, where William went. I ask hey Mrs. Shaw, have you seen William around by chance? She asked who honey? I then told her about the strange boy who was with us right before we left to go out and play around an hour earlier. She told us that he did sort of look strange and that she had never seen that boy the daycare center before. A cold chill ran down the back of my spine as I stood there, perplexed and a little scared. Both me, Josh and Nolan discussed this further and concluded that Will was probably just new here and this was just his first day. After my mom took me home and I told her about Will, I asked her if she would call the daycare center to track him down and see if he was supposed to be there in the first place. She agreed after hearing my disturbing hide and seek experience and called the daycare center. They told her there was no William in their books. She asked if he was a new attendee and that if they made a mistake. They told her there was no mistake and that if some kid found his way into the daycare center without their approval to contact them again and they will call the police. I never saw William again. Let me begin by saying I have always been skeptical of the paranormal. I always believed there's a logical explanation behind any strange occurrences. I normally don't talk about ghosts or even think about them really until my youngest daughter was born. She is quite the intelligent child, very perceptive and mature for her age. I have five children and I can tell that she is a little different. At 18 months old, Bella began telling me about seeing ghosts. I wasn't sure where she had even learned the word ghost, but I assumed she picked it up from her older brothers and sisters. I knew she had a very active imagination and didn't pay it much attention. Incident 1 I am laying Bella down with me for her bedtime routine. A book after her bath. As I'm reading, she puts her finger to my lips, looks me in the eyes and says really quietly. Then her eyes dart to the corner of the bedroom ceiling. She points to the corner and whispers. I reassured her that there was nothing to be scared of and continued reading. Her eyes kept darting to the ceiling and tracking side to side. I asked her if the ghost was still there. She nodded yes. Being raised by a God fearing mother, I knew you could cast out spirits in the name of the Father. I said a prayer and I politely but firmly told the ghost to leave our house and not come. Bella calmed down. She seemed satisfied with this and we continued our story and I honestly forgot about it. Incident 2 Nap time we are laying in my room settling down for a nap. My daughter is about 20 months old at this time. Suddenly she sits up in bed, snatches her sippy cup of milk to the side and looking over the edge of the bed, she shouts, no. I asked her what was wrong. She said, the little boy with black hair is trying to take my cup. Then she suddenly jerks her arm again and says, mom, that little boy hit me. I looked over the edge of the bed, secretly hoping I wouldn't see anything. Nothing there. Once again I told the spirit to leave our home and to never return. Bella was silent for a few minutes before asking me, mom, why is that little boy crying? I said, is he crying? Where is he? She said he was sitting in the closet crying. I was a little freaked out, but I didn't want her to pick up on it. So we ended up leaving the room and watching a movie on the couch. Instead, she mentioned the little boy with black hair several times through the next months. She said he lives in the attic and that sometimes he watched her at night when she was in her bed. I didn't tell anyone about these stories, including my husband. Once Grandma mentioned that some weird things had happened while she was there. During the day, the bathroom door opened and closed by itself and she heard what sounded like child's footsteps running down the hall. She chalked it up to it being an old house and I never mentioned anything about Bella's encounters. Incident 3 I was lying in bed waiting for my oldest daughter Gabby to come home from a date. She's 17 and her curfew is midnight on the weekends. Everyone else in the house is sleeping. My door was slightly ajar by just a few inches and the hallway light was illuminating. Outside the door I see a hand begin to push the door open then pause and disappear. I hear footsteps towards my oldest daughter's room. Her room is beside mine and at the end of the hallway. There isn't another room besides hers. I thought Gabby must have figured I was sleeping and decided to not come in my room. So I called out to her. No answer. I listened again. It was quiet. I got up and walked towards Gabby's room. I opened the door. The room was dark and empty. She wasn't home yet. I began racking my brain about what I saw. There was no one else awake besides me and I know I saw a hand at my door. I walked around checking all the kids all soundly asleep in their beds. I checked all the windows and doors blocked. I looked on my Life360 app to see where Gabby was. She was still 15 minutes away. I don't know how to explain the hand that I saw. That brings us to the final and most recent incident. My youngest daughter, now almost three, stays at our home with her grandma while her dad and I work and the other kids are at school. One day Grandma called my husband frantically saying someone was in the house and she and Bella were waiting outside in the car. He rushed home to check it out. When he got there the house was empty and all the windows and doors were locked except the front door where she had run out with the baby earlier. He checked the security cameras and didn't see anyone. He did see Bella start flailing in her chair and then run screaming to the front door, beating on it to get out. Grandma explained what happened and I got chills down my spine. She said Bella was sitting in the living room eating chicken nuggets, watching Sophia the first and playing with some dolls. Grandma stepped out onto the front porch to smoke a cigarette. Maybe two minutes of being outside and she heard Bella let out a series of blood curdling screams. Then Bella starts frantically beating on the front door to get out, calling for her grandma to help her. She told her there was a lady with crazy eyes, crazy hair and crazy fingers that bit her on the leg over and over. She exclaimed that Grandma had to come fast and help her. As a three year old, crazy was a very strong adjective in Bella's world. Grandma, seeing the sheer terror on her face, grabbed Bella and ran out the door. I don't know how to explain this. At the risk of looking like a crazy person myself, I asked a minister to come bless the house. I will send an update if anything further happens or if I do find a logical explanation after all.