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Paranormal Activity

vannevar

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Those things are freaky but it sounds like you have a friendly ghost/spirit/something? hopefully? I've definitely felt heavy duty presence of some sort of spirit or consciousness, I don't profess to know what it is but I do know how it feels. I feel it most with plant spirits, but those are playful and pleasant. Only twice have I had an experience where I was thinking wow, that is a ghost. The freakiest one was in a house I rented with a friend in Missoula. The little fucker would always lock me out of the apartment if I came back too late if I didn't hang out with him. I only noticed this ghosty thing when I was alone. The first time that I had to spend the night outside on the second floor deck throughout the night there was the sound of foot steps, then when the foot steps got to the top it would just be quiet and I would feel tension like some one was watching me but no one was there. Inside the house if I was home alone and not in the kitchen I would hear utensils and plates and shit moving around in the kitchen. The first couple times I didn't dare to go into the kitchen because I felt this hair raising tension. One day I worked up the nerve to ask my roommate about it. and right away he know what I as talking about. he had had similar experiences but only while alone in the house. The craziest time was when I was laying in bed, I took a nap and woke up to the sound of someone rattling around in the kitchen. I felt brave this time and the thought came to my head that I was going to sit up and so sneak into the kitchen and see if I could actually see things moving around, I thought this as I sat up and all the busy noise ceased at the very same time that I sat up and this heavy wave like an energy rush swooshed to my open door and just stopped right at the threshold of my door. I could feel it like the high energy you feel in the wind when there is a wild storm but without the movement of the air. The presence at the door was very real to me but I could still m=not see it with my eyes. I just sat there with my hair raised and I was repeating a mantra "Ok I won't go into your space if you don't go into mine. I promise I will not ever look to see what you are doing, I won't go into your space if you don't go into mine, I promise..." I said that like three times and the energy just kinda poofed away. It just dissipated or something. That ghost was upset about something and I was very uncomfortable there.

what if its not another at all but our own psychic energy splitting off out of ourselves? if theres someone else in or around your area, especially if theyre sleeping...cast suspicion there first.
 

paiche

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what if its not another at all but our own psychic energy splitting off out of ourselves? if theres someone else in or around your area, especially if theyre sleeping...cast suspicion there first.
That's an interesting take on it. If that's the case it would be good to have control over that splitting off, I wouldn't want to do that by mistake too often, things could get really freaky.
 

apathyfaction

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My great grandpa was a medicine man. He died when I was very little, but my grandma used to warn me to stay away from haunted places. She was afraid I'd bring them with me when I left. Said some of the men in my family could draw spirits to us, good and bad.

Personally, I think it's horseshit.

But even saying that...

I've seen some shit in my time. Phantom travelers, ghost ships, a resurecting cat. I got stories, man.

But I'll share just one as a for instance. Names changed so nobody gets offended, and spoilers below.

It was 2006, Junior year. We were out at the reservoir, seven of us. Me, Jay, Don, Amy, Zack, my ex Alisa, and Nick. Drinking and fornicating in the bushes. You know, rural kid shit.

Well, my boy Zack brings out a Ouija board. Not one of those Milton Bradley plastic and cardboard sets either. Old school. Hand carved. Engraved. Antique.

So we sit by the fire and play. At first the questions are stupid. "Does Amy wanna bone Zack?" You get the picture.

So we're all laughing and screwing around, and it's really obvious who's moving the piece. But then it gets quiet. Real quiet. You know how the woods get when there's trouble coming? No crickets. No frogs. No locusts. No breeze rustling the trees. Just dead silence. Dead air. Utter stillness.

We notice. Not all at once. But we notice. Everyone gets nervous. Everyone feels there's something not quite right.

The planchette starts to move. Nobody takes thier hand away. We all just stare. It drifts slowly across the board to spell a word. "h-e-l-l-o".

"Hello". Someone says, the barest hint of a smile in thier voice. "Who're you?"

"z-u-z-u" it spells.

"What do you want, Zuzu?" Someone else asks, more nervously than the first.

"Q-u-e-s-t-i..." It begins to spell, before I interupt. "Question? It wants us to ask it questions."

"When am I going to die?" Jay barks out. Everyone chuckles. It's funny, for a minute. A cliche question. Horror movie fodder.

"6" the board says.

"6? What's that? Decades? Years?"

"m-o-n-t-h-s"

Everyone chuckles again. We still think it's a joke. A prank someone is playing. But it doesn't feel like anyone is pulling the planchette in any direction. It's sliding so smoothly, I would swear we were all moving it at once... Or no one was.

"What about me?" Don asks, still laughing. He was older than the rest of us, him and Jay. Upper classmen, Don was dating our friend, Jay was Amy's brother.

"5"

"Minutes?" He replies, grinning from ear to ear.

The planchette slides across the board. "No"

"Months?" Jay asks drily.

"Yes" the board replies.

"I'll outlive you." Jay says, raising his eyebrow.

"Okay, new question." Nick cuts in, "How am I gonna die?"

"d-r-u-n-k"

Everyone laughs. Nick was drinking more than any of us. It had to be a prank. Someone screwing with the answers.

"Okay," he says, rolling his eyes, "But what's going to kill me?"

"t-r-e-e"

I wasn't laughing anymore. I didn't think this was funny, even if it was a joke.

"It's time to stop." I say. "That's enough".

I take my hand of the board and stand up, brushing dirt off my jeans. But the planchette doesn't stop. It drifts over to the word "No". Over and over again, it drifts away and then back to "No". Carving a figure eight across the board. Faster and faster. One by one everyone lets go.

The planchette stays on the word. "No".

Nick kicks the board over, knocking the planchette into the dirt. Crickets are chirping as though they never stopped. A frog crokes somewhere. A breeze blows across the water, tickling the flames of our fire. Everyone laughs it off, pointing fingers, placing blame. The board goes into a bag and we try to forget.

Three weeks later we have a service for Nick. He wrapped his car around a tree coming back from a party. We bury him in his favorite hoodie. It's a closed casket.

They find that Ouija board in his room, in the back of a closet. Don takes it, says it's sentimental. We don't talk about it, but we're worried. Coincidence. Has to be, right?

5 months later and we're buring Don too. Car accident - he lost control and went off the road. Flipped his truck twice before he hit the bottom of the hill. Our friend - his ex now, or widow, I suppose - told us he burned the Ouija board. If that's true, why was it under the seat of his truck?

I'm there the day we throw it into the resevoir, tied to a rock.

A month later we all go to prom. Jay is there, laughing and playing cards. He almost forgets his medicine, but his sister reminds him. Three days later she finds him in bed. He's gone too. His heart gave out - it was always a possibility.

This time nobody finds the Ouija board. It finds me. Sitting on my porch at the farm, leaning against a bench.

I put it in the fucking wood chipper.

So, ghosts or demons or just all drunken shenanigans and coincidence? Dunno. Don't care. It happened. And we don't really talk about it. We pretend it didn't happen - swear up and down it isn't true.

But I never could resist telling a story.
 
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klaiash

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It was 2006, Junior year. We were out at the reservoir, seven of us. Me, Jay, Don, Amy, Zack, my ex Alisa, and Nick. Drinking and fornicating in the bushes. You know, rural kid shit.

Well, my boy Zack brings out a Ouija board. Not one of those Milton Bradley plastic and cardboard sets either. Old school. Hand carved. Engraved. Antique.

So we sit by the fire and play. At first the questions are stupid. "Does Amy wanna bone Zack?" You get the picture.

So we're all laughing and screwing around, and it's really obvious who's moving the piece. But then it gets quiet. Real quiet. You know how the woods get when there's trouble coming? No crickets. No frogs. No locusts. No breeze rustling the trees. Just dead silence. Dead air. Utter stillness.

We notice. Not all at once. But we notice. Everyone gets nervous. Everyone feels there's something not quite right.

The planchette starts to move. Nobody takes thier hand away. We all just stare. It drifts slowly across the board to spell a word. "h-e-l-l-o".

"Hello". Someone says, the barest hint of a smile in thier voice. "Who're you?"

"z-u-z-u" it spells.

"What do you want, Zuzu?" Someone else asks, more nervously than the first.

"Q-u-e-s-t-i..." It begins to spell, before I interupt. "Question? It wants us to ask it questions."

"When am I going to die?" Jay barks out. Everyone chuckles. It's funny, for a minute. A cliche question. Horror movie fodder.

"6" the board says.

"6? What's that? Decades? Years?"

"m-o-n-t-h-s"

Everyone chuckles again. We still think it's a joke. A prank someone is playing. But it doesn't feel like anyone is pulling the planchette in any direction. It's sliding so smoothly, I would swear we were all moving it at once... Or no one was.

"What about me?" Don asks, still laughing. He was older than the rest of us, him and Jay. Upper classmen, Don was dating our friend, Jay was Amy's brother.

"5"

"Minutes?" He replies, grinning from ear to ear.

The planchette slides across the board. "No"

"Months?" Jay asks drily.

"Yes" the board replies.

"I'll outlive you." Jay says, raising his eyebrow.

"Okay, new question." Nick cuts in, "How am I gonna die?"

"d-r-u-n-k"

Everyone laughs. Nick was drinking more than any of us. It had to be a prank. Someone screwing with the answers.

"Okay," he says, rolling his eyes, "But what's going to kill me?"

"t-r-e-e"

I wasn't laughing anymore. I didn't think this was funny, even if it was a joke.

"It's time to stop." I say. "That's enough".

I take my hand of the board and stand up, brushing dirt off my jeans. But the planchette doesn't stop. It drifts over to the word "No". Over and over again, it drifts away and then back to "No". Carving a figure eight across the board. Faster and faster. One by one everyone lets go.

The planchette stays on the word. "No".

Nick kicks the board over, knocking the planchette into the dirt. Crickets are chirping as though they never stopped. A frog crokes somewhere. A breeze blows across the water, tickling the flames of our fire. Everyone laughs it off, pointing fingers, placing blame. The board goes into a bag and we try to forget.

Three weeks later we have a service for Nick. He wrapped his car around a tree coming back from a party. We bury him in his favorite hoodie. It's a closed casket.

They find that Ouija board in his room, in the back of a closet. Don takes it, says it's sentimental. We don't talk about it, but we're worried. Coincidence. Has to be, right?

5 months later and we're buring Don too. Car accident - he lost control and went off the road. Flipped his truck twice before he hit the bottom of the hill. Our friend - his ex now, or widow, I suppose - told us he burned the Ouija board. If that's true, why was it under the seat of his truck?

I'm there the day we throw it into the resevoir, tied to a rock.

A month later we all go to prom. Jay is there, laughing and playing cards. He almost forgets his medicine, but his sister reminds him. Three days later she finds him in bed. He's gone too. His heart gave out - it was always a possibility.

This time nobody finds the Ouija board. It finds me. Sitting on my porch at the farm, leaning against a bench.

I put it in the fucking wood chipper.

So, ghosts or demons or just all drunken shenanigans and coincidence? Dunno. Don't care. It happened. And we don't really talk about it. We pretend it didn't happen - swear up and down it isn't true.

But I never could resist telling a story.
Kind of fuckin creeps me out, if your story is true. I had a board say "Z-O-Z-O", do figure eights and repeatedly go to "NO" as well. Swear to the heavens. I have fucking chills and my hair is standing up just talking about it. Even moreso, during that session I had such an urge to ask the board some serious questions, but something told me not to, and I'm glad I didn't. I never fucked with a ouija board after that.

On a side note, I once looked into the four letters the board spelled out. The entity tied to the name is supposedly the taker of first born boys. Both my mother and my sister lost their first born sons. One was a miscarriage and one died days after being born.

I'm a skeptic, but even then, there is shit not meant to be fucked with in this world.
 

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