Friday, December 16, 2011


By Anne-Marie Weller

Some years ago now I was working as a carer for an elderly lady named Ella.  Ella was a lady in her early 80’s, and was sprightly, cheery and bright.  She was a delight to work for.  I’d visit her twice a week to help out with domestic duties and to ensure that she was eating regularly and doing well health-wise.

Upon my second visit, I was washing up some dishes in the kitchen when I heard Ella greeting someone in her lounge-room.  I hadn’t heard either the front or back doors open, so wondered who she was speaking to.  I made my way into the room where Ella was knitting up squares to sew together as blankets for children in third-world countries.  She sat serenely with a soft smile on her lips.  I asked her who she’d been speaking to and with a cheeky grin she said, “Gerry ... my husband.  He drops in everyday to visit with me.”  I quickly glanced around the room but there was no one to be seen.  I was a little baffled so just smiled at Ella and went back to washing the dishes.

Once back at the sink I heard Ella say softly, “she can’t see you remember ...”  She then let out a low chuckle, and I simply let it slide and went on to dry and stack the dishes away.  I thought no more of it and left soon after.

The following Tuesday Ella greeted me at the door with a smile and let me in.  After chatting for 5 minutes or so I went off to do my chores.  A little later I walked past the loungeroom doorway to hang out Ella’s washing and heard and saw her merrily chatting away to the recliner next to her.  I paused briefly as she continued talking to the chair, then felt a little self-conscious so scurried off outside.  I wondered if maybe Ella was going a little senile and felt sorry for her.

Over the following weeks every time I went to Ella’s I’d catch her talking to no one ... or at least I thought it was no one.  I ended up speaking to the supervisor at the agency I worked for.  Surprisingly to me, she knew all about it and went on to tell me that the ‘Gerry’ Ella was always talking to was her husband who’d passed away over 10 years ago.  Ella had been having conversations with him ever since and all of her carers over the years had witnessed it.  Well at least that explained it ... sort of.

Back at Ella’s the following week I walked into the loungeroom and sat down next to her, taking a breather between chores.  Suddenly I heard a man’s voice clear as a bell, right next to my ear, saying “Hi Anne-Marie”.  I just about jumped out of my skin and felt goose-bumps spread up my arms and down my back.  I looked around wildly but no one else was in the room but me and Ella.  Ella laughed out loud and lay her hand on my knee.  “Don’t fret dear,” she said “it’s just Gerry saying hello.”  She smiled sweetly as though there was nothing at all odd about a voice coming out of nowhere.  I didn’t know where to look, what to say or what to do.  I quickly got up and went back to my chores, feeling more than a little uncomfortable and jittery for the rest of the afternoon, and it kept playing on my mind the rest of the night and beyond.

I didn’t really want to work for Ella after that day, eventhough she was a lovely lady.  I went there out of a sense of obligation, but I was never comfortable in her house after that.  I tried to put it out of my mind whenever I went there, but it always creeped me out every time I heard her chatting away to ‘Gerry’.  I tried to stay out of the loungeroon as much as possible and just tried to ignore it as best I could.

One afternoon my husband came home to tell me that he got the promotion he’d been after.  It would mean that we had to move to another town, but after working at Ella’s over the months I was ready for a change.

I informed the agency and Ella the following day and put in my resignation.  Ella said she’d be sad to see me go, but understood and was pleased about my husband’s promotion.  The following Tuesday would be my final day working at Ella’s place.

I arrived early to make sure that everything was in order and to spend a little time with Ella before leaving for good.  10 minutes or so after greeting Ella at the door I was walking down the hallway, washing basket in hand, and saw a man walk past making his way into the loungeroom.  He went and sat down right next to Ella on the recliner beside her.  She looked at him and smiled, then leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Hello Gerry’ she said.

I just stood there staring as the man slowly vanished right in front of my eyes although  Ella continued chatting away to him.  I dropped the washing basket on the spot and the next thing I knew I was in my car, backing out the driveway as quickly as I could.

I never went back to Ella’s house and we moved away three days later.  I haven’t had any experiences like that since, but I’ve never forgotten it.


Friday, August 26, 2011

The Lamashtu

By Lillian K. Staats

I continue to think of ghost stories, but these others I have are not so comforting, in fact one was so frightening it changed my life.

The year that I turned 19, 1979, I had a job cleaning the largest private dwelling in Alaska. It was still under construction, but it was monumental, with vast outward jutting windows that looked onto Rocky Lake near Big Lake.

My tasks were simple and required little thought, just labor; washing clothes and bedding by hand,(there were no washers), cleaning up after construction crews, cooking, that sort of thing. My boss was Dana Sutherland, and, like a few men at that time, he wanted me in his bed. I was absolutely not going to do that, for anything, and to this day, I'd never had sex to get or keep a job. Like my neighbor Gene says... so you just give it away. Sigh, (not to you, you Bastard, I thought).

 I divulge. At any rate, this boss was snowed in at Anchorage, and couldn't get back. I loved it! The snow fell record feet that winter, and I felt safe in my snow cocoon, along with the five Doberman Pinchers, one being my puppy Inca.

This was a working holiday; I washed all the bedclothes, swept, mopped, etc. I stayed up quite late, reading in Dana's palatial bed, (my bed was a cot), and I'd change the sheets again.

Now, as a young woman, I had no form of religion, and was open to almost anything- eastern religion, yoga, herbology, Tarot cards, Urantia, what have you. But, for some reason, upon entering that house, I would not touch anything to do with the occult, and there were rows and rows of occult books. Then I found the black candles in a box by Dana's bed. I was not afraid, I was wary, and did not touch them.

 I found it hard to go to sleep that night, so it was four in the morning when I finally dozed off, or more correctly, closed my eyes, and could not move, though I could see the room perfectly, albeit grainy, like a bad film.

 To my left hand side was a double pane Pella window, and a creature, like smoke and....clear flesh, assumed a position in front of me, and (sifted?) down into form. It was a leopards body, a lion's head, wildly streaming hair, and bared breasts. 

I said,"I love God, God loves me, In the name of Jesus Christ begone from this house". I knew inately that it was a she, she was ancient, Egyptian, and a she-devil. 

Another thing- I had NEVER called on Christ in my life, but there were those words. She reluctantly gathered herself together, and departed exactly how she arrived. Why spirits would need windows is beyond me..

 Well, young people are resiliant, and altho my sweat made a sillouette on the sheets, I laughed everything off best I could and went to sleep.

 The next morning I fed the dogs, had tea, thought nothing of it. Just to get it out of the way, I was a health nut, and rarely drank, and rarely did any naughty thing to my body, and this was the case at the time, so all this happened stone cold sober as it were.

 Any way, as the day progressed, I'd find myself walking toward the occult bookshelf. I'd, as if in a daze, reach out my hand, pull a book out, and open it. Then I'd feel, this isn't the right book. Well, that's just very odd, and it happened twice. 

On the third try, I knelt down and my left hand went out to the shelf, second from the bottom, I pulled a book out, and opened it up the the very page. On the left hand side, second from the bottom it said this:

Lamishtu or Lamashtu;  an ancient she-devil, fierce and bloodthirsty, Egyptian. A leopard's body, a lion's head, wildly streaming hair, and bared breasts.

 Suffice to say, I stuffed garlic in my pockets, (forgetting that was for vampires), clutched a Bible, and ran to my best friends, Nick and Sheila, two and a half miles away, in the dark. Haha! 


The Lights Turned On By Themselves ....

By Lillian K. Staats

I have a short ghost story that happened last winter;

Most people that know me consider me a fool, but a really kind and giving fool. I'll have to accept that as a good thing, and I think I'm at peace with that. After all, where would we be without the fools of the world?
 However, for a fool, I'm quite logical, and prefer logical explanations for why things happen- but sometimes there isn't one!

I've lived in the same house for over twenty years, a little hobbit house, brightly colored, and to me, the sweetest place on earth. It's surrounded by hundreds of acres of woods, and fields, and I feel very blessed.

 At any rate, as I grow older, it's harder to sleep thru the night, and sometimes I take refuge in the bible, or a good book. This particular night, well, three something in the morning, I was doing just that. Well, I'd set the bible down, I was getting sleepy, and I was just throwing out a few last errant prayers for friends and folks, when the light in my bedroom, and both lights in my livingroom went on.

There was only one problem with this. As I went to check the light switches, I kew what I'd find. Yes. They were all OFF. The lights were on, but all the switches were OFF! The lights stayed that way for several minutes, not seconds, as I bemused, and sleepy, made the rounds of the light switches, murmuring all the while. Oddly, I heard a low humming overheard as they had gone on. Not being an overly hysterical person, I decided to sleep on it.

 The next morning I called MEA, our power company, here in Wasilla, Alaska. I asked the fella, say, did we have a power surge around three A.M.? "No Maam." Ah. 

Well, I told him what happened, and he said it might be I have old style mercury light switches, they might have all disfunctioned at the same time.

I've been living here a long time. Those lights have NEVER "disfunctioned" before or since!


Thursday, August 25, 2011

The Ghost At The Savoy

By Lillian K. Staats

I just read the story of the haunted black closet, and it reminded me of my 1985 trip to England. I was lucky enough to afford a few nights at the Savoy in London, They showed me into a compact but lovely room, and a bathroom with marble steps up to it. I was charmed, but very tired from the flight. I decided to take a nap.

I woke out of a sound sleep to water going full bore. I went into the bathroom where the shower was going: a large stainless steel plate with about fifty holes served as the nozzle. It was hot water. I was not afraid... more bemused. I turned the water off, and went back to the bed to finish my nap.

About forty minutes later, the same thing happened. Again, I shut it off.

The next day, the window opened, by itself. Now, this is important, because the window was closed with a rail of steel with holes that corresponded to nubs on the ledge. Also, the window was locked.

I never felt afraid... I had the sense that it was a male ghost from the 1800’s and that he was a bit of a playboy. I have a few more ghost stories, but I love this one most. I was pretty and young then, and anything could happen, and usually did!

*  Lily

Wednesday, August 24, 2011


As told by Prue

Kenny and I hadn’t been in town that long when I met Sandy at the local Daycare centre.  She lived a couple of doors down from us, and although we hadn’t been formerly introduced, I recognised her having seen her in her front yard when were unpacking two weeks ago when we were finally moving into our very first home as husband and wife.

Sandy didn’t bother with any formalities.  “So, you’re the new people on the block yeah?”  Sandy asked/stated.  “Have you met the ghost yet or what?” she continued.

I stood there perplexed, not knowing what she was talking about.  Sandy looked at me in exasperation and repeated her question/statement.  “The ghost.  Have you met him yet or what?  I shook my head ‘no’, not really sure what she was talking about.  

I thought no more of it as I made my way home where I found Kenny on the couch in front of the TV.  “Hey, I thought you came home earlier,” Kenny said as I came down the hallway.  I stopped and looked at him, mid-way to the kitchen.  “I thought you came home earlier because I heard some noise coming from the bathroom, but when I went to check you weren’t there." I just looked at him a little strangely and went on to unpack my groceries.

A few days later I was home cooking Kenny’s favourite meal, when I was sure I heard the shower running.  I stood still on the spot listening, but the noise of running water had stopped as abruptly as it has started.  I figured I’d just imagined it, so went back to peeling the potatoes, but a couple of minutes later I heard it start up again.  I went to check and found the hot water tap turned on full bore in the shower, but no one was there and I was the only one home.  I started to feel freaked-out and really didn’t want to be there by myself.  I remembered what our neighbour Sandy had said about the ‘ghost’ and shuddered at the thought.   I didn’t even want to consider it.

I had to come to grips with it though because over the next 3 years that we lived in that house lots of little things happen.  I say little things because it was never really scary or earth-shattering stuff that went on, but enough to know that the ‘ghost’ was definitely around.

* The shower turned itself on and off quite often.

* I’d come home from work to find the contents of the pantry in the fridge.

* Sometimes I would find the loungeroom windows open, knowing I’d closed and locked them before going to work.

* Lights coming on at night and turning themselves off again.

* Stereo and TV would turn on and off.

* Clothes from the laundry would be found in the kitchen and kitchen utensils in the bathroom.

* Photos frames being moving around on the mantel every few days.

* Keys, mobile phone, ipod and things like that would go missing and turn up in stupid/unlikely places.

* Strange cooking/food smells but no source.

These are just a few of the things that took place while we lived in the house.  After a while I wasn’t really scared, but annoyed more than anything.  It never bothered Kenny, but I never felt comfortable in the house and was glad to finally move out.  

*As told by Prue

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Angel in the Garden

As told by Michael

I never really believed in angels and stuff like that, although my Grandma Ada used to talk on and on about them when I was kid.  She used to tell me they were all around us, but I could never see them.  She’d often mention one by name in particular  -  Athena she’d called her.  I used to just play along with Grandma when she’d point out the fairies and sylphs in her special spot in the garden  -  her reading rotunda.  Grandma Ada would spend hours reading her books and magazines under the shade of the rose covered rotunda.

Years passed and I married my wife Sarah and had two kids.  I didn’t see Grandma Ada for a couple of years while I worked overseas, but I heard from Mum over the years that she was doing fine.  

My daughters were 5 and 9 when I took Sarah and the girls to visit with Grandma Ada.  She wasn’t in the house, or at least didn’t answer our knock, so I made my way to the rotunda in the garden with the girls in tow.

Not quite believing my eyes, I saw Grandma Ada lying on her back on the ground with a lady with long flowing hair leaning in close to her as though whispering in her ear.  I hastened my footsteps, worried that Grandma Ada was ill, and wondering who this strange lady was leaning over her so closely.  

Quickening my pace, staring straight at the rotunda and the two women within, the lady with the flowing hair began to disappear to nothing.  She just faded away before 

my eyes as though she was never there to begin with.  I was too busy to fuss about it at the time so put my curiosities aside and attended to Grandma.

I checked her pulse and breathing and noted her deathly palour.   Sarah was already on her mobile, calling for an ambulance.

Once at the hospital Grandma Ada was stabilized and had pulled through almost unscathed.  She’s suffered a heart attack while reading in her garden, but she stated that she was a ‘tough old bird’ and it would take more than a little heart attack to knock her off.

Turning to leave a while later, Grandma Ada called me to her bedside and motioned for me to lean in close.  “Did you see her?” she asked.  “Who?” I replied, having totally forgotten about the strange lady in the rotunda.  “My angel ... Athena. Did you see her? Grandma asked again.  I nodded and smiled.  Yes.  I’d finally seen Athena, Grandma Ada’s angel.


Monday, August 1, 2011

The Fitzgerald House

As told by Alyshia

When I was 11, my dad told us we were moving.  When I found out which house Dad had bought I was totally mortified!  It was the old ‘Fitzgerald’ house and it was where a man (Mr Fitzgerald) had committed suicide about 6 years earlier.  I didn’t remember it myself (being so young at the time) but we lived in a small town so it was local knowledge.  No way did I want to live in that house.  And I knew my friends wouldn’t want to have sleep-overs with me anymore.  I pleaded with Mum and Dad not to move there, but too late  -  the deal was done.  And I dreaded it.

I felt uncomfortable in that house from the moment we moved in, and strangely enough I started enjoying school more.  Anything was better than being in that house.  I’d even taken up after-school sports because I didn’t want to be home alone before Mum and Dad got home from work  -  and I hated sports!

On the fifth night after we’d moved in I woke up to sounds coming from the kitchen.  I didn’t think much of it at the time and just figured it was either Mum or Dad getting themselves a snack or drink or something.

The next morning at breakfast Mum asked me what I’d been doing in the kitchen the night before.  I felt a chill go right through me and said that I’d thought it had been her or Dad.  She just looked at me perplexed, but I felt scared.  If it wasn’t Mum or Dad, and it wasn’t me in the kitchen last night, then who (or what) was it?

A few nights later I was woken by the sound of drawers sliding open and cutlery rattling, again coming from the kitchen.  I lay dead-still and listened.  I heard footsteps walking around and tried to tell myself it was just Mum or Dad, thirsty or hungry.  I shut my eyes tightly and tried to ignore the sounds and go back to sleep, telling myself all was ok.

I heard the footsteps get louder and louder and nearer and nearer and scrunched myself up under the doona.  My door opened.  The footsteps came right up to my bed.  I lay as still as I possibly could, huddled under the covers.  All of a sudden something poked me and I jumped and screamed.  Mixed with my scream was Mum’s.  I’d given her a fright almost as much as she had me.   She snapped on the light and I wrenched the covers off my head. 

“Was that you in the kitchen?” Mum asked in hushed tones. 
“No, I’ve been here in bed ... I thought it was you” I replied.

We looked bleakly at each other.  Heavy footsteps were coming towards my room.  Mum and I just stared at each other, holding our breath, frozen in fear.  Dad swung open the door and we relaxed momentarily.  He looked at us both in confusion.
“What’s the screaming about?”  he asked, looking from me to Mum and back again.
“We just gave each other a fright” Mum replied. Dad shrugged his shoulders and went back to bed.  Mum leaned in and hugged and kissed me, then silently made her way back to her room without another word.

It was quiet for a few nights until the end of the following week.  Then the footsteps and clattering cutlery would happen for a night or so, then all would be quiet again for nearly a week.  After a month or so I noticed that a bit of a pattern started to take shape.  It seemed every Thursday or Friday and Sunday nights the noise would come from the kitchen for an hour or so, generally between 2 and 4am. 

Nothing else ever happened ... nothing ever went missing and no one ever saw or heard anything else.  Just the noise and footsteps in the kitchen.  It seemed harmless enough and with time we just learned to live with it. We stayed in that old house for seven years before Mum and Dad sold up and we moved on. 

The old Fitzgerald house is still there and a young family lives in it today I believe, but I don’t know if the weekly kitchen clatter still goes on, and I don’t really want to.  I haven’t experienced anything like that since, and I don’t want to ever again.


Sunday, July 17, 2011


As told By Natalie

I’d moved into a newly-built unit block that had been built on the outskirts of town where vacant paddocks had been since before I could even remember.  The units were lovely, fresh and clean and I was happy to unpack and set up my belongings in my new home.  But within days I began to question my choice of lodgings.

I’d been out for the day having started work at 8am, so was glad to finally pull into my driveway just on dark.  I walked up the path to the front door and noticed the flickering of the TV through the window and could faintly hear the jingle to a game show as I unlocked the door with trepidation.

I knew I hadn’t left the TV on when I’d left that morning;  in fact, I hadn’t even switched it on at all, and no one else had a key.  Maybe I had an intruder come to rob me ... but why would they turn on the TV?  Wouldn’t they just take it instead?  Questions rushed through my mind as I cautiously crept towards the lounge room.  But the TV was off.  The screen was blank and the room was silent.  I could have sworn I’d seen and heard it ... but obviously I’d been mistaken.
Striding towards the TV to turn it on for myself I jumped back in shock when I pressed the ‘On’ button and felt the warmth of the television set on my fingertip, as though it had been switched on and running for hours. 
I was creeped-out totally and scuttled back out the front door, fumbling with my keys at the car, then quickly backed out the driveway and drove to a nearby park to catch my breath and re-group. I didn’t know what to do so I sat and waited for my heart-rate to slow back down to normal.

Against my better judgement, I rang my sister Crystal, my voice shaking as I blubbered about what had happened.  In quick time she’d abated my fears and I felt more assured and braver, although slightly humiliated.  Crystal had laughed at me when I’d suggested my place was haunted and reminded me that I was always the gullible one.  Crystal made it clear how silly I’d been and how ridiculous and improbable my story was. 

And of course she was right.  Wasn’t she always?

I told her again that I thought I had a ghost, but she’s scoffed that the unit block was newly built so couldn’t possibly house any ghosts    -   but I wasn’t too sure if that made any difference in the ghost world.
I gathered my gumption and guts and drove back to my neat little unit.  ‘Crystal said the television set just had electrical faults.  That had to be it,’  I’d reasoned to myself.  I was bold and brave when I re-entered my home ... and to my great relief, all was as it should be.

I settled in for the night and thought no more of it.  Well ... I tried hard not to think about it anyway.  
From then on I’d turn the TV off at the wall, and sometimes, just to make sure, I’d pull even the plug right out of the socket before going out.

A few days later I put down my coffee cup on the kitchen bench and went off to shower.  Coming back into the kitchen later, the cup was sitting in the sink.  Another time I hung my handbag on the coat hook, only to find it on the dining table the following morning.  The milk would turn up in the bathroom, plates, bowls and cutlery in the lounge room, books and paperwork in the kitchen, and my laptop would play-up at the most inopportune moments.   Sometimes I would get a waft of a sweet old-fashioned perfume like roses and vanilla. Some mornings I’d hear the shower start running before I’d even gotten out of bed, only to find the bathroom empty and no water and no steam to be seen. All sorts of odd nuances and occurrences would happen on a daily basis and I was beginning to believe that I was going totally mad.

Strange things kept happening and I was becoming more and more anxious every time I came home from work and I was spending more and more time away from that eerie unit.  I began looking for excuses and reasons not to go home at night.  A promotion was being advertised at work, so I applied and hoped and prayed I’d get it.  It would not only mean a higher income, but I’d also have to move to work at the nearby town’s head office.  I was to find out if I’d be given the position at the following months’ meeting  ... 3 weeks away.  I persisted renting the creepy unit, determined not to let my fears get the better of me.

My sister Crystal was due back in town the following weekend and she’d invited herself to stay with me for her 3 day stint.  I was looking forward to seeing her as it had been a while, and was glad for the company  -  and not being alone in my unit more than I had to be.

Crystal arrived in a waft of designer perfume and with way more luggage than anyone ever needed for a 3 day visit.  We took off for lunch at Mum and Dad’s soon after, then went to visit mutual friends, and didn’t return home until way after dark.

I could see the TV flickering through the window as I walked towards the front door, and hesitated to unlock it.  Crystal was fussing behind me, whining about the cold night air, and pushed me to open the door.
“The TV is on” I said, rooted to the spot.
“Yeah ... so what?!” Crystal spat, “It’s just playing up again.  Hurry up I’m cold!”   But still I hesitated.  I knew I’d unplugged it from the socket. 

Finally Crystal shoved me out the way in exasperation and snatched the keys from my hand, sweeping open the door in a rush to get inside.  I hesitantly entered my own home, the TV still blaring away.  I didn’t want to face it (or Crystal for that matter), so took myself off to bed.

I awoke abruptly to Crystal hovering over me, urgently shaking my shoulder.  I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but her shrill voice woke me up in a hurry.  She grabbed at my arms and tried to pull me out of bed, screeching something about getting out of here – NOW! 

I fumbled and stumbled into my jeans and sweater, slipped on my shoes and quickly followed the hysterical Crystal outside to where she was hopping from foot to foot in anxiety.  She’d grabbed my car keys on her way out the door and pressed them into my hand, insisting that I drive her over to Mum and Dad’s.  I’d never seen her so visibly upset, her voice shaking and her eyes wide open.

Out on the highway heading towards our parent’s place she went on to tell me that she’d been washing her face in the bathroom before bed and had caught a shadow in the mirror out the corner of her eye, and when she looked up she’d seen a strange, old woman looking at her ... but when she turned towards the woman to *question her (read *interrogate) the woman had disappeared.  All that was left was a rosey-vanilla type of smell, Crystal said.

Crystal being Crystal, she’d dismissed it as just the bathroom lighting playing tricks on her, and went back to her elaborate pre-bed beauty routine.

When she’d gone to the spare room to prepare for bed, the old women she’d thought she’d seen in the bathroom was standing by the window, facing outwards.  Crystal said that she was about to ask the woman who she was and what she was doing there and how she’d gotten in, when right in front of her eyes, the woman faded away to nothing. 

That was when Crystal’s feet propelled her to my room in a screeching rush.

‘Your house is haunted Nat! It’s haunted! Don’t go back.  Move out now!” We’d just pulled up at Mum and Dad’s and I decided right then and there that I’d had enough of that creepy place and wouldn’t be going back other than to pack my stuff. I’d made up my mind.  Mum and Dad would just have to put up with me living in my old room for a while.

And so it was.  The following weekend all of my possessions were moved out and I gladly handed the keys back to the Real Estate Agent.  I got the promotion at work the following week, so prepared to move yet again.  My next home though, was ghost and rose-vanilla free.


Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Ghostly Hairdresser

*As told by Kerri

A couple of years ago now, it had been a lazy Sunday afternoon, and I’d been dozing on the couch, making the most of my time off work.

My husband Glen was out for the afternoon so I was enjoying my solitude while it lasted.

I remember vaguely waking up from my snooze feeling someone patting my hand.  When I realized that no one was there, I figured that I must have dream it, so promptly fell back to sleep.

Waking up an hour or so later, I could feel someone playing with my hair, so I assumed that my husband Glen had come home - but again, there was no one there when I looked around.  I felt my head and hair where it had been touched, and to my astonishment, my hair had been plaited at that spot - one small, thin plait.

I was freaked out totally and ran into the bathroom to look in the mirror.  The plant was definitely there, and I certainly didn’t remember plaiting it myself.  I was totally baffled.

Glen came home not long after and I told him about the strange patting on my hand, then the appearance of the plate, and the feeling of someone fiddling with my hair.

He looked at me as though I was crazy, scoffed and rolled his eyes, which infuriated me to no end.

He tried to convince me that I had indeed dreamt it and that I had plaited my own hair in my sleep.  But I was less than convinced.  How could I have plaited my own hair while I was sleeping when I could hardly manage it when fully awake?

I tried to let it go and not think of it again for the rest of the evening;  but later that night as I lay in bed I was reluctant to fall asleep for fear of the ‘something’ returning.

I must have drifted off at some point because I woke up just after the sun rose, and made my way to the bathroom to prepare myself for the day ahead at work.

I’d forgotten all about the previous night’s occurrences totally, until I glanced in the mirror, about to step into the shower.  And there was another plait in my hair - this time on the other side of my head, sitting just behind my left ear.  I reached my hand to it in shock, as though needing to feel it in order to confirm its existence.  Surely I hadn’t managed to plait my own hair in my sleep again.  I had no idea what was going on.

I had no further phantom hairdressing episodes for the following week or so, and had almost forgotten about it totally, until one afternoon while I was relaxing in my garden seat, reading a book.

I was totally engrossed in my book so didn’t notice (at first) the slight tugging on my hair.  I put it down to the breeze moving my hair around, so absentmindedly hooked a lock behind my ear, and then got back into my book.

Within a few minutes I could feel my hair slowly being tugged out from behind my ear - then it was lifted up passed my eye level.  I snapped my hand up to push it back down, but came across resistance, as though someone was physically holding up the lock of my hair.

The short hairs on the back of my neck prickled and stood on end, and goose bumps shot down my back and right through me down to my toes.  I felt rigid; as though I was welded to my seat, and felt polarized with fear.  I could feel something around me, although I couldn’t see anything.  It felt like someone was watching me, and feeling self-conscious and spooked out, I escaped to the safety of the house, trying to ignore this latest incident.

I didn’t bother bringing it up with Glen as when I had the previous couple of times he had just looked at me as though I was crazy, and as much as I wanted to move to a new home, I knew that Glen wouldn’t hear of it.

I had four more episodes with our ghostly hairdresser; each time occurring when I was either home alone or while me asleep at night.  I could feel myself becoming increasingly edgy and anxious, always looking over my shoulder and feeling uncomfortable in my own home.

Glen and I had been squabbling over little things and my irritability levels grew as I struggled to sleep peacefully, at times lying awake for two to three hours at a time each night.  It was affecting my home and work lives, and friends were no longer so inclined to drop around to visit.  My life was being adversely affected by this now constant sensation of being watched and the playing and styling of my hair while I slept.  It was unnerving and eerie to say the very least.

Things deteriorated between Glen and I, so I tried yet again to explain what was going on and why I was behaving like I was  -  but Glen put it down to my ‘hormones’, and scoffed at the idea of ghosts and spirits in our house.

That next night was the last one I ever spent in that house.

Not long after finally falling asleep next to a disgruntled and grumpy Glen, I woke to the now familiar feeling of someone tugging at my hair.  I was suddenly consumed with anger – both at my ghostly hairdresser and at Glen’s attitude and refusal to believe me.

“See! See!” I yelled, pulling back the covers and rummaging around for clothes to throw on.
“I’m not staying here Glen!” I yelled.  “Do you hear me ghosts!? I’m outta here!”

I threw some things in a bag and told Glen that I’d be at my mother’s.  He didn’t try to stop me as I left.
I’d told my mother all about the goings-on so she wasn’t too surprised to find me on her doorstep so late at night.  She ushered me inside and settled my nerves with a steaming hot cup of coffee and made up the bed in the spare room for me.  I finally felt relieved, safe and protected, and settled down to sleep as soon as I lay my head on the pillow.

Some time later I awoke to the sounds of activity downstairs and could hear my mother’s voice vaguely waft up the stairs.  I quickly went to the landing, concerned, only to see Glen’s ashen face looking up at me; a strange look in his eyes.

“I believe you now Kerri ...” he said, making his way up the stairs towards me, clutching something in his hand.  Once he met me on the landing, he held out his hand and showed me tufts of his brown, curly hair.

“I went to sleep after you left, and woke up because I thought you’d come home and gotten back into bed, but when I rolled over you weren’t there  -  but something was!!” he told me in a rush.  “There was something or someone there, but I couldn’t see anything ...” he continued.   “Then when I tried to fall back asleep, I heard weird ‘snipping’ sounds near my ear and felt something fall on my face ..... And look at this!” he said, holding out the snippets of his hair.  “And your sewing scissors where on my pillow!”

I stood nodding my head.  “See, I told you.” I replied matter-of-factly.

After that night Glen was very apologetic and I made him pay dearly for ever doubting me and having the audacity to mock me.

Our friends Sharon and Trevor house-sat our home while Glen and I took a well-earned break, and upon our return we rented out our house and moved closer to Glen’s work.

We haven’t had any complaints from any of our tenants over the years, but I often wonder about our ghostly hairdressing visitor.

* As told by Kerri

Monday, May 30, 2011

Spirits By The Roadside

* As told by Susan

My friend Debbie wanted a lift to a roadhouse as she was going to start a job, so my ex-hubby Bill and I decided to take her.  We were driving along smoothly until we got just outside a town called Truro in South Australia.  Then the car stopped for no reason. Nothing, not even the radio would work, everything was so dark, so silent for what seemed to be ages, but it was only for a few minutes.  We were very nervous, and we just couldn’t work out what was wrong.

Then the car started to work again and we decided to get away from there as quickly as we could.  We didn’t stop until we dropped Debbie off, then returned home.

Not long after, we saw a news story about a man picking mushrooms who’d found dead bodies … now known as the ‘Truro Murders’.  One of the perpetrators died in an accident and the other man is in jail for the murders.  They’d happened straight across from where our car had stopped. I felt the chills run down my back and I believe the spirits had stopped the car to let us know, so they could be found,  but being so quiet and dark we just wanted to go.

I know now that if that happens again, its’ someone who needs help to be found.

 * As told by Susan

Sunday, May 29, 2011

The Ghosts in the Laundry

*As told by Jenny

It was a Saturday afternoon and I’d come home early from work so thought I’s watch the TV shows I’d pre-recorded during the week while I was at work.  My partner Glen wouldn’t be home until later that evening as he’d gone with fishing with his mates,  so I intended to just kick-back and relax a bit while I had the time and space.

At some point I must have fallen asleep on the couch while watching the TV because I was woken by the sound of crying ... wailing really.  It started in my dream and got louder the more I woke up, but when I opened my eyes and looked around there was no one there.  It had frightened the life out of me.
The TV was still blaring away, but no one had been crying on the show, so I put the crying/wailing sound down to my imagination or a bad dream.  Deciding to get up to get myself a snack from the kitchen, I noticed a blanket half covering me.  I lifted it up and looked at it with disturbed wonder.  It was the throw-rug from off my bed, and my bedroom was down the hall.  I hadn’t grabbed the blanket and covered myself  -  so who had?? 

I assumed then that Glen must have come home early from his fishing trip, so I headed off towards the kitchen calling out his name. There was no answer from inside the house so I went to check the shed.  I noticed straight away that Glen’s car wasn’t in the driveway.  So where was he? Maybe at the shops; maybe he was at his mate’s place?  I rang his mobile and he answered straight away.  He was indeed out in Port Phillip Bay fishing, making him at least three to four hours away.  I figured then that I must have grabbed the blanket myself and had just forgotten I'd done it.

Putting the issue behind me, I made myself some food, then settled back on the couch to continue watching my shows.

After polishing off some vegemite toast I considered getting up again to make myself a cup of tea.  Just as I thought it, the kettle turned itself on in the kitchen.  I heard the distinctive ‘click’, then the water beginning to heat up.

I sat stock-still on the couch, my mouth and eyes wide open, and the sound of my rapidly beating heart in my ears.  I just didn’t know what to think or do.  I was too scared to move and I certainly didn’t want to go anywhere near the kitchen.

The kettle boiled and switched itself off.  I still didn’t/couldn’t move and I had goosebumps up my arms and up my back.  I was totally terrified.

I grabbed my phone from off the coffee table next to me and called my sister Yvonne.  When she answered I started whispering into the phone.
“Who is this?” Yvonne asked with suspicion.

“It’s me, Jenny.”  I replied.

“Why are you whispering?” she asked.  “Speak up will ya.”

“I can’t ... someone’s in the house ... I don’t want them to hear me.”

“WHAT!?” screeched Yvonne.  “Someone’s broken into your house??  I’ll call the cops  -  you get out of there right NOW!”

“No, no, no ... it’s not like that  -  I think we have a ghost Yvonne ...” I told her.

There was silence from the other end of the phone for an extended moment.

“Bullshit!” Yvonne laughed.

“It’s true!  And I’m scared.   Come over, come on.  Keep me company until Glen gets home,” I pleaded.
I finally managed to talk her into it, promising her some chocolate cheesecake when she got here.  (I’d have to raid the freezer for the very last of my famous chocolate cheesecakes, but it would be well worth it not to have to be alone.)

Within twenty long minutes Yvonne arrived, letting herself in with her own key.  I still hadn’t moved off the couch, but felt more confident now that I was no longer alone ... even though I had to endure Yvonne calling me a scaredy-cat and making fun of me.  I made her come into the kitchen with me nonetheless while I made us cuppas and took out the chocolate cheesecake I’d promised her.

In short time I felt much more confident and soon got over my earlier fear  -  and by then Yvonne had convinced me that it was my warped imagination that had frightened me so much, and nothing more.
Changing the DVD to a show of Yvonne’s choice, we settled on the couch to chat and while away some time before Glen was due home.

Within half an hour or so I fancied another cup of tea and was about to offer Yvonne a refill  -  when the kettle turned itself on again.  I looked at Yvonne who stared back at me with a stricken look on her face.
“See ... I told you,” I whispered.

Yvonne gathered herself together, then charged off into the kitchen.  The moment she rounded the corner, the kettle switched itself off with a click.

“You must be having some electrical problems ...” Yvonne stated.  “That’s gotta be it ...” she continued quietly to herself.  She fiddled with the plug of the kettle, then dismissed it and chose to ignore what had happened and made us both our cups of tea.

A bit later on, while Yvonne and I devoured the chocolate cheesecake, a clattering sound came from the laundry area at the back of the house.  I jumped in fright and spontaneously grabbed hold of Yvonne’s arm and she looked down at it, then back at me in distain.

“I’ll go and check shall I?” she said sarcastically.  I was happy enough to let her go by herself, but she insisted I go with her just so she could ‘prove’ to me how ‘silly’ I was being.

As soon as Yvonne opened the door to the laundry, I could see her back stiffen in front of me, although I couldn’t see around her into the room.  Yvonne stepped back quickly, trampling my feet in the process, then shoved me hard in the chest as she tried to move me back down the hallway as quickly as she could ... a look of sheer terror on her face.  She didn’t speak a word, but bustled around quickly grabbing her car keys, her coat and the remainder of the chocolate cheesecake.  She snapped at me to grab my stuff because we were leaving right then and there.  Yvonne was already out the door heading towards her car faster than I’ve ever seen her move in her life, as I locked the front door behind me.
It wasn’t until we were a few streets away that Yvonne finally let out a huge sigh of relief.

“What happened?” I asked, not that I really wanted to know  -  I was scared enough at it was.

“When I opened the door I saw a couple;  a man and a woman who looked ot be around 50 or so.  I was about to ask them who they were and what they doing in your laundry  -  but then I realized that I could see right through them  -  like they were sort of transparent ... grainy-looking or something.”  It freaked me out totally.  How long have they been around?” she asked me. 

“Beats me ...” I replied.  “I’ve never seen anything like that before and today was the first time the kettle shit happened ...”

Once safely at Yvonne’s place I texted Glen, asking him to pick me up on his way home from his fishing trip, and swore to myself that I’d never spend time by myself in that house again.

We didn’t have any kettles turning themselves on and off, or ghosts clattering around in the laundry for some time, and I’d all but forgotten about that afternoon with Yvonne until some week later when I unexpectedly found myself home alone again  ... but that’s a whole other story ...
* As told by Jenny

Ghost Girl

* As told by Melinda

This story happened two decades ago when I was young, single and travelling around Regional Victoria and staying in Youth Hostels.

I took the coastal bus to Port Fairy.  It was a foggy, damp and dismal mid-winter weekend.

I was the only guest that unforgettable Saturday night at the two storey Youth Hostel.  The evening became even more depressing, with freezing cold temperatures and little company after the Warden went home for the night.

There was nothing on the TV so I packed myself up in the very empty 20 bed dorm with a hot water bottle and juicy book.  At about 10.00pm I turned the lights out and the room was completely shrouded in darkness.

I awoke with a start at around Midnight and lay completely still listening in concerned puzzlement to the weird noises which surrounded me.

Initially, it sounded like birds or mice rustling and squeaking, then growing rapidly more agitated akin to a kitten requiring it's mother or the like.

I was a little scared but said my prayers and managed to fall back to sleep again.

The next morning at breakfast The Warden asked whether I had slept well. 
“Yes” I said, “until I was woken up around midnight to strange noises.”

The Warden stopped what she was doing and asked me exactly what I meant.  I explained how the noises reminded me firstly of some small animals scratching and scuttling then of a piteous kitten.
The Warden stood stock still and said, "So you heard Her?"

"I beg your pardon" I asked,

The Warden proceeded to tell me this story …

Over a 100 years ago, a little girl was mistakenly imprisoned in her upstairs Nursery.  Somehow there was a miscommunication between her parents and governess.  They both forgot about her and went on separate extended trips. Sadly, she was discovered weeks later, when her parents arrived home again.

“You're especially lucky,” The Warden said, “you're the first one she has made contact with in many a long night.”

I gulped, swallowed and said, "Thankyou, I think?"

Needless to say, I caught the next bus home. I wasn't feeling that special!

* As told by Melinda

The Ghost Cat

* As told by David

About 8 years ago, my partner Linda and I were at a house in Buderim being interviewed to be house-sitters. While sitting at the table chatting and drinking coffee, we met their dog and we were chatting about how sweet he was, but I thought it strange that they didn’t mention the cat that was walking around my legs brushing up against me (me not a cat lover). Eventually it jumped up on a chest of drawers sniffed around jumped off and wandered off down the hallway.

Eventually it got the better of me and I asked about their cat, whereupon they looked at me strange and said “what cat?”and I told them about the Siamese cat and where it went etcetera.  The lady nearly fainted because apparently the cat I described had died 3 years earlier and where it had been on the cupboard was where she used to feed it to stop the dog from eating her food. Needless to say, the hairs on the back of my neck were up on end at this stage and we didn’t get the job.

* As told by David

Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Ghost in the Curtains

* As told by Susan

We lived in a three bedroom house at Richmond South Australia.
My eldest brother Derrick who is about six foot tall had the middle bedroom. We were given some second-hand curtains which we put up in Derricks room.

That night a large man well over eight feet tall with pointed hair (shaped like a pointed cone and he looked like an Indian), came out of the curtain and started to attack  Derrick. This man picked Derrick up by putting his huge hand around Derrick's throat and threw him against the wall. Derrick fought back with all his strength as Derrick was strong himself and had learnt Judo, this man-thing left.

Derrick stayed up the next night just in case it came back. It didn’t that night but the next night it came and once again they fought.  Derrick even head-butted this man-thing, then it was gone again. It didn’t come back the next night.

Derrick told his girlfriend and she gave Derrick a cross to wear.  Derrick said “what can a cross do against this giant man-thing?” but promised he would do what she told him to do.

That night it came back ready to attack Derrick again, then Derrick showed the cross and told the man-thing to ‘Go … Go in Gods or Jesus's name.’  With that the man-thing left but went into our other brother’s room. When Derrick saw this happened  he ran after it, telling it to ‘get out … get out of here and never return.’

Derrick showed us his neck and you could plainly see the buised hand mark nearly all the way around his throat.

When Derrick told us that it came from out of the curtain, we immediately took the curtains down and threw them into the rubbish.

We’ve never kept second-hand curtains again.

 * As told by Susan

The Hitch-Hiking Spirit

* As told by Susan

I was driving down a road with a couple of friends in SA, when we saw a tall guy hitch-hiking, so we thought we would pick him up as there were three of us and we knew we would be safe and we had already on a few occasions picked up hitch-hikers to give them a lift, to help them out.

When I turned the car around then headed back towards him slowly, we could see  he had a smile on his face, so we stopped and offered him the lift and told him it would only take a moment to move a couple of things out of the way because he was tall, we wanted to make him feel comfortable, then we opened the door to let him in.  But nobody was there.  We got out of the car and had a look around, then we just looked at each other and decided to just home drive home.

The next day we saw on the news that not too far ahead from where we were there had been a bad accident.  We looked at one another and shook our heads -  it could have been us.  And still to this day I thank the spirit or angel who saved us.

 * As told by Susan

The Spirit's Warning Voice

* As told by Susan

This is one of my true stories, I do have more.

 When I was young I was always running away,  and on one  occasion I was picked up by a guy  who was thin, had afro hair, wore glasses and drove a white Valiant car.

He told me he would take me to New South Wales.  Wow that sounded so good, I thought, hopping into his car. His car was messy with things on the front and back floor, and as we were driving along I keep getting this cold feeling go through my body.

We had travel about 4-5 miles when he turned to me and said that he better contact the family just to let them know, we pulled up just passed the phone box which was near a bridge just ahead and by a train line.  While he was in the phone box all of a sudden I heard a voice telling me to "get out … Get Out … GET OUT  NOW!”  Three times this happened, but louder and louder each time.  Then the door window went icy, so I quietly opened the door and ran to the bridge and hid.

When he finished with the phone call he kept looking around  trying to find me, then shook his head, got back into his car and drove off. I waited for about 15minutes then left the bridge.

When I returned home  I told my mother about it.  A few months later I walked into the lounge room where my mother was watching a special news broadcast, and I said  to her “that's the guy who picked me up and was going to take me to N.S.W! What's he done?"

My mother said he had killed a  TV personality's son and is one of ‘The Family Members’,  and his name  was/is  Bevan Spencer von Einem.  He is now serving his life behind bars. My mother said I might have been he’s next victim if I hadn’t taken notice of the spirit voice.

The thing that is more interesting is this was not the first time he tried to pick me up.  I kept having and still do have dreams that when I was about 7-8 years old I was at the beach.  It was either Glenelg or Henley Beach in South Australia.  I was standing near a fence by a building all by myself and I watched a black car go by, then return, and a man who looked like the guy who wanted to take me to New South Wales  asked me if he could take me home.  Then  a member of my family came, and he walked away fast,  and my family told me they were sorry they’d forgotten me.

Its’ really funny though, when I went to have a reading done the person told me I was taken from my family and was given to another family …  that’s why I always felt lost and kept running away, even though I never revealed anything about myself.
* As told by Susan

The Spirits In The Kitchen

* As told by Debbie

One day not long after moving to a new suburb and house, I was standing in the kitchen getting myself a snack, when I saw my little jack Russell Terrier Candy run past me and dart into the lounge room where I saw who I thought was my brother Terry walking around the corner towards the front door.  Candy began barking furiously and I figured she was just barking at Terry because she thought he was going out for a walk without her, so I didn't think much of it right at the moment, until my mum (who was in the study down the hall) called out something to Terry, and he answered her from his bedroom right next door to the study  -  nowhere near in the lounge room.

I thought I must have heard him wrong, and he just sounded like he was down the hallway, but when I turned my head to the right I saw his bedroom light on and his shadow moving across the wall. That's when I started panicking.  Who was it who had walked through the lounge room towards the door?

Candy continued to bark so I went to see who had walked to the door, which was where Candy was now standing.  When I came around the corner I was relieved to see no one there, but I was confused about what I’d seen.  Candy looked at me, then back at the corner near the front door and continued to growl and bark.   I opened the door, but Candy didn’t want to go outside ... she just stood staring into the same empty space, with her hackles rising and bristling.  I could see her baring her teeth.  I became very frightened so closed the door and ran to my parent’s room. 

I told them what happened, but mum and dad just looked at me like I was nuts.

Another day I was preparing myself some breakfast and turned to get the milk out of the fridge.  I saw a lady standing by the bench.  I got a fright and my heart started beating really fast and I was about to ask her who she was and what she wanted  -  but she was gone in an instant.  Just vanished right in front of me.  I left my bowl of cereal on the bench and just walked out of the kitchen really fast.

One night my mum was cooking dinner and I was watching TV in the lounge room.  I could hear her clattering the knives and spoons and pots and pans and even the sizzling of the onions.  I was about to ask mum what we were having for dinner, when I thought I heard her talking with someone.  We were the only ones home at the time so I figured she was just talking to herself while she cooked.  Then I heard her say ‘thank you’ a bit louder.  I thought I’d go into the kitchen and see what mum was cooking, and as I walked in mum turned and smiled at me and said ‘now you can get out the butter for me’.  ‘Ok’ I replied, getting the butter from the fridge, handing it to her.  ‘That shoulder rub really did the trick.  Thanks for that Debbie,’ my mum said.  I looked at her and said ‘what shoulder-rub?’  ‘The one you just gave me when I was stirring the onions,’ she replied.  I said that I had been watching TV in the lounge room all this time and it was the first time I had come into the kitchen.  Mum’s mouth dropped open and she asked who had been massaging her shoulders then.   I didn’t know what to say but I felt really freaked out and so did mum.

One time mum was cooking a roast but the oven kept turning itself off.  Dad checked it and didn’t find anything wrong, but still it would work properly.  Mum ended up cooking on the stove top, and the electrician came to look the next day.  There was nothing wrong with the oven and it started straight away and stayed lit all the time while the electrician was there.  But as soon as he left the oven started playing up again.  We would never know if we were going to be able to use the oven from one night to the next.

Another time the oven turned itself on in the middle of the night and mum found it turned on in the morning.  But none of us had turned it on.  it was extra warm in the kitchen that morning, but not at the spot where the kettle was.

Sometimes when you would make a cup of tea and stand near the kettle, you could feel freezing cold air around you.  One day I had a friend over and I was making us some snacks and cups of tea, and she was standing in the kitchen talking to me while waiting.  She was standing in front of the pantry door and kept looking at it.  ‘I think you’ve got rats’ she said all of a sudden, swinging open the door.  But there was nothing there so she closed it again and started back on the conversation we were having. Mid-sentence we both heard cans of food being moved around in the pantry and my friend Kelly jumped away from the door.  We stood looking at the door, both of us too scared to open it and look.  The sounds continued and got louder and louder.   It sounded like the tin cans were being bashed against each other.  ‘Mum!’ I yelled.  We both ran out of the kitchen.  Mum met us in the hallway and asked what the matter was so I told there were rats in the pantry.  I really thought it was our ghosts, but I didn’t want to say anything in front of my friend because I didn’t want to spook her into not coming over again.

Mum glanced at me and made her way to the kitchen pantry and swung open the door.  There were no rats, but the cans were lying all over the place, with some on their sides and others upside down.
‘Who did this!?’ mum shrieked.   We said that we hadn’t done it, and I told her that when we looked in there, there was no one there.

There was another time when we come home from shopping and all the cupboards and draws where open, and all the plats were stacked neatly on the floor.  No one had been home and all the doors were locked.

We lived in that house in for 5 years all up and lots of other stuff happened over the years, and I was very relieved when we finally moved out.

* As told by Debbie

Friday, May 27, 2011

Leanne's Spooky Stories

* As told by Leanne


When I was about 15 I never believed in ghosts or anything really until this one night, and ever since I have believed and seen different things.

I had been reading a book in bed and then turned the light out.  I felt like there was someone in my room watching me and I thought it was my mum at the door as I saw a shadow of someone standing there. It was 12 pm and I could hear the TV on so I knew my mum was still up.  I quickly turned my light on and the feeling was gone the shadow was gone and my door was shut. I was so freaked out that I left my light on the rest of the night.

The next morning I found out my best friends' mum had died that exact time I felt someone in my room.  So I figured she was there to say good bye to me I still haven’t worked out why though.


Two years later I had the same dream 3 nights in a row that my grandfather had died.  There was nothing wrong with him at all. The morning after the third nightmare about this my phone rang early in the morning and it was my Nanna asking my mum to come very quickly. 

My Grandfather had died in their garden from a massive heart attack.  I blamed myself for his death for years just because of having these dreams.  It took me years to tell my mum or anyone about this too.


Years and years ago my Nanna was about to turn 70. The night before her birthday party I had the weirdest dream where she was at my bed, telling me that I have to be strong for everyone cause she was dying.  She wasn’t sick at all at this time.

The next day at her party before anyone had turned up she held my hand and told me to keep it in mind what she had said the night before in my dream (she must have had the same dream or something I couldn’t work that part out).

 A couple weeks later I came home from work and my mum was crying and I asked what was
wrong.  My Nanna had emphysema and they couldn’t do anything for her and she has to give up smoking which she didn’t like the thought of either.

For a year and a half she was in and out of hospital and finally passed away in her sleep while in hospital.  It felt so eerie because I knew something was wrong before it even was and I had to keep it to myself and be strong for everyone else.


The night I had my first son they had just taken him to clean him, and then came back with him while everyone else had gone to let me rest.  I was holding my newborn Jesse and I felt and saw my Nanna sitting beside me (by this time she had passed away about seven years prior).  She told me he was beautiful and that she was so proud of me.  In those seven years my Nanna had come to see me from time to time and told me she was always here and watching over us all.


I was very pregnant with my 3rd child, and my brother had been rushed to hospital and was lucky he got there when he did otherwise possibly wouldn’t have made it.  When he came out of a medically induced coma weeks later he had told everyone he had seen me and my new baby the night before.  I went in to see him just a few hours later and he asked where bubs was and why I still looked pregnant.  I still had 3 weeks to go and he had told me it was a boy and his name was Josh. 

When I did give birth it was a boy and we called him Josh because that’s the name I had liked anyway, but it was so weird that my brother had dreamt it and he looked the same as he had described so they have a special bond between them cause of it.

* As told by Leanne

The Haunted Old Farmhouse

* As told by Tracy Samual

We lived in an OLD farm house, it was over 100 years old and haunted.

One day we were all going out and the car had 4 flat tyres so we had to get someone out to fix them, so after that we locked the house up and left.  When we got back home the door was opened and the key was on the floor.  This happened every day and then one day you could see an old lady in a rocking chair knitting and her husband beside her.

If you put stuff down you would see it move. There was one day a friend brought over their stereo and sat it on the bed and it started to play and it was not even plugged in. The red light was on, the turn table was going round and round but no records in it, so we all ran out screaming and you could fill a cold breeze go past.

They would take your stuff and hide them from you and move stuff on you, and at night you could see a person standing at the window with a hat on and a long coat and when you went out there, there would be a wet patch where they were standing, but no one around.

The whole house was so spooky even when we tried to light the fire you could feel someone blow out the match each time you tried to light it.

One day my mum put an old record out in the bin and when she walked in it was sitting on the table. Then she took it back out and you could see it floating back inside and fall back on the table.

People would come up to you and tell you that they could see ghosts moving around.  So we moved out and friends we knew moved in and they had the same stuff happen to them and they did not last long there either.

* As to by Tracy

Thursday, May 26, 2011

The Willy Wagtail at the Cemetery

* As told by Veronica

This is one of my experiences.

A work colleague of mine (Doug) died in a car accident.  A few years after his death I was to attend another funeral at the same cemetery where Doug was laid to rest.  I arrived at the wrong time and I had an hour to kill (sorry about the pun) so I decided to have a look around and read some of the headstones.  

Doug was cremated, and I did not know where his ashes had been placed.  I wondered about this as I walked around.  Then I started asking "where are you Doug?, come on show me where you are".  I continued by stroll about and reading of the headstones, and I asked Doug again where he was - I was determined to find him. 

Then I noticed a beautiful circular garden ahead of me and I walked over and up the steps - it was a beautiful place with stone seats and rose bushes.  I walked around looking at the roses and then I saw a beautiful blue Willie Wag Tail. It was at my feet and twittering, looking right up at me and then it scurried under some little shrubs and I squatted down to see what it was doing, and there was Doug's brass memorial plague staring right back at me with a picture of his smiling face .

David's Spooky Story

* As told by David

In the early 80s in Mackay, Queensland, we purchased a brand new home in the suburb of Slade Point...

After we moved in strange things happened, (I myself laughed them off as house settling) but some things couldn’t be explained, such as my wife would go down stairs & do Laundry & come up to find all cupboard doors open, so she shut them, go down stairs hang out laundry, only to come up & find them open again!! Nobody at home, front door locked & I checked latches and couldn’t find fault with them.

Another time I had a mate & his wife staying up from Sydney (we were babysitting while girls had night out) & we were in the lounge room downstairs watching scary movies of all things & I went upstairs to make a coffee. When I went back downstairs Leighton was saying stuff like why did you turn TV & lights off & on? And of course he didn’t believe that I didn’t, so I put that one down to him falling asleep on his chair...But after he explained how they slowly dimmed down then slowly came back on, it had me wondering if I had electrical problems. (later checked & no we didn’t) One of the upstairs bedrooms was always chilly cold, & my young son never liked sleeping in there so we moved him in with his brother in the other room...

One night my son (8) heard footsteps then his door slowly opening, & he was that scared he hid under blankets, & felt his bed go down as if someone was sitting on it...To scared to look he just stayed there. In the morning I could see how upset he was & it took a while for him to tell us this, but apparently he had heard these footsteps over numerous nights..

So after all this I started to find out the history of the area & apparently the house next door was the original farm house for the area, & sold off land to be subdivided. Now as the story goes (which I now know is totally true) before our house was built there was a shed on it where the wife of this house banished her husband because she blamed him for their son committing suicide.

Now Apparently the guy 2 doors up was using a Ramset Gun & as he was using it he heard an extra bang.

What had happened was the Father who was depressed about his son went into town to buy a gun & bullet (which they would only sell a box of bullets) & he had gone back to the shed & shot himself.....Our house was built where this shed was & the bedroom upstairs was above where they found his body...So after we found out all this everything fell into place.

So we felt sorry for the guy & started to talk to "him" when these things happened after a while we got used to it, but like all young families we moved on & I have always wondered if the next family had the same experiences...


Evelyn's Angelic Experience

* As told by Evelyn

I had a customer, *Sue Harkwell, and her husband passed away. I was attending the funeral
a few miles from here and the Chapel behind the pulpit was all glass. I was not really paying attention to what the Pastor was saying, but really thinking of Janie's daughter, Joanne who had been murdered.

I met Janie thru a mutual friend when the trial for Joanne's murderer was here in town.  Joanne was very religious and a friend had painted Joanne as an angel.  The clouds were beautiful and rolling.  The sun was shining.  All of a sudden, I saw angels floating to my left. and then all of a sudden, I saw the face of Jesus .  His face was clear as day.  What a wonderful experience.  

The next week when Sue was in the shop, I told her about what I had seen.   Guess what, she told me I was not the only one that had seen it.   Two more people told her they had seen the same.  I never got to meet or talk to either person, but from that, I knew Jesus was really out there for us to see.

Another vision God sent to me was when Linda's trailer burned and when she called me to tell me what had happened, I saw this beam with Linda, Jason, and Raymond all under this beam, and at that time I knew God was showing me He had all three of them in his care and  they were never in danger.

* Name changed


* As told by Jo

The ‘Ghost-Busting’ and paranormal investigation team arrived at around 7 PM at our old shop as pre-arranged. The group’s leader was a tall, striking woman who was a renowned clairvoyant and medium, and the rest of her group was made up of her two sisters, and six other women of varying ages. All the members of the team had varying levels of abilities and sensitivities and all had had paranormal experiences throughout their lives.

The group walked quietly through the entire shopfront and back building while my husband Robin and I told them of the twenty or so experiences of both ourselves and our staff members, particularly over recent months.  As we moved through the building we pointed out where the incidences had taken place.
Stopping at the stairwell leading to the basement, the group leader told us that she sensed a little boy around us.  We told her then that the child of one of our regular customers had said that he’d seen a little boy crying in a corner just a few weeks earlier.

Moving to another section of the large old store, the group leader began speaking of an elderly lady sitting by a tiny table with a very old-fashioned sewing machine in front of her.  She was hunched over the machine, intently trying to thread a needle that wasn’t there.

I felt the hairs on my arms and the back of my nick prick up instantly.  There was something about the description of the old lady with the sewing machine that seemed familiar somehow, but I just couldn’t place it.  I tried to put it out of my mind as we continued on towards the back store rooms.

One of the team leader's sisters (the younger of the two) had gotten ahead of us a bit, and turned back to call to the rest of us following behind.  She stopped mid-sentenced and stood stock-still staring at something above our heads.  We all instinctively looked up, but personally, I could see nothing.  A couple of the group members murmured and whispered between themselves.  The temperature in the room had dropped dramatically and a cold breeze seemed to waft around us ... almost through us it seemed.

In a moment or so (although it felt like an age) the temperature returned to normal and the leader began moving forward again on her quest to seek out any lurking spirits and ghosts.

Coming back towards the basement stairwell, the group leader and both her sisters immediately sensed the little boy she had encountered earlier.  As we gathered around the top of the stairs, a couple of others in the group were able to sense him as well.  One of the ladies proceeded down the stairs into the darkened basement, while the team leader lead us off towards the old kitchen area, where she was immediately drawn towards the large walk-in pantry.

She glanced across at another of the group members and nodded to her subtley.  The younger woman opened the door to the pantry and walked in, closing the door behind her.  The rest of us stood there looking on until the group leader motioned us towards the hallway leading back to the front of the store.
It was round about time for my husband Robin and I to head home and leave the team to do their job.  I didn’t envy them at all they night’s stay in our big old shop.

The following morning Robin and I returned to meet up with the paranormal group back at our shop.  They’d all survived the night it seemed.  Over hot coffees and hot rolls that Robin and I brought along with us, the team leader and her group told us of their adventures during the night, and of the (expected) results.

As it turned out, the little ghost boy in the basement had been the son of a previous owner, who had misbehaved and had been put in the basement on his own as punishment, by his father – the shopkeeper of the time.  The little boy had become bored very quickly so had began snooping amongst the old boxes and crates strewn throughout the basement.  According to the psychics amongst the group, the little boy had been playing in a big old wooden tea chest, when the heavy lid had fallen, sealing the poor boy in the box.  He’d tried and tried to push open the heavy crate lid, but he was no match for it’s over-powering weight and density.  The boy called and called, but his father was upstairs manning the store and too busy with customers to hear the distressed young child.

In time, the little boy must have nodded off to sleep in the big wooden box ... and that was the last thing he remembered.

The group assured me that the little boy had ‘gone to the light’ and was met by his mother and father, who had been waiting for him on the Other Side for a long, long time.

The identity of the old lady by the sewing machine hadn’t been established, but I was also assured that her spirit had moved on and she would no longer spend her eternal time attempting to thread a needle that didn’t exist.

According to one of the group members, the ghost-lady in the pantry had been a serving girl and kitchen-hand back in the days when the railroad came through and the passengers from the nearby station would come in for scones and tea before catching the next train out.

The group leader spoke of another two ghosts or entities that had presented to them during the night, and told us that collectively, all of the ghosts or spirits had now left the building and would not be returning.
Robin and I only hoped that she was right.

... two years on and we are about to sell our business to finally retire.  We haven’t had any disturbances and nothing unusual in the shop or basement since the paranormal team’s visit  -  and I just hope it stays that way for the new owners.



* As told by Nicole

My job as a cleaner at a high school was hard work and odd hours, but with the help of my two daughters, Denise 16 and Sue 14, I enjoyed the work and appreciated the pay.  I’d been working there for three months so far, and was happy enough with my position and got along well with the other staff members.

While the girls and I were working one afternoon I noticed a plague on the wall, commemorating the re-opening of a wing of the school.  They’d named it the ‘Parry Wing’ after a former teacher.  I hadn’t noticed it before, and thought nothing more of it.

I heard Denise squeal suddenly and rushed over to see what the problem was.  “Someone brushed passed me,” she said anxiously.  There was only us three in the room, so I dismissed it as just her over-active imagination, much to Denise’s chagrin.

A few afternoons later, while working in the same section of the high school complex, Denise, Sue and I were finishing up the vacuuming before signing off for the day, when all of a sudden the power went out.  We stood looking at one another waiting for the electricity to turn back on.  But after 10 minutes or so I decided that we’d call it quits for the night, so I left a note on the maintenance man’s door letting him know about the electricity problem.

Just as we got to the car park and unlocked the car, the lights sprang back to life in the building.  I told the girls to stay in the car while I made my way back into the building to turn off the lights and re-check the locks ... but just as I stepped back inside, the lights went out and all fell silent again.  I stood there frozen on the spot, deciding what to do.  The lights flicked back on, then off again in a blink. Without hesitation I quickly re-locked the door and bolted back to my car as fast as I could. 

Once safely inside the car, the girls asked me who I’d been talking to inside the building.  I looked at them dumbly.  There hadn’t been anyone in there as far as I’d seen and I’d certainly hadn’t spoken to anyone, but both girls insisted that they’d seen someone who was quite tall walk across the room towards me as though speaking with me just before the lights went out for the second time.

A chill ran right through me, and I turned the key and took off home in a rush.  It was getting dark outside and I didn’t want to hang around that creepy place.  All three of us were completely spooked-out.

The following evening my daughters and I reluctantly went to work back at that haunted High School and experienced no disruptions or disturbances for the first hour or so  -  but just as we were relaxing and becoming a bit complacent, it was time to vacuum and dust the ‘Parry Wing’. 

Putting on a brave face for the sake of the girls (and myself for that matter) I pushed open the glass door and ushered in the large vacuum cleaner, buckets and cloths.  Working as quickly as we could, Sue, Denise and I whizzed through the chore list and within 15 minutes or so, were ready to finish up.

Packing up the vacuum cleaner, Sue went to unplug the power cord at the switch on the wall.  She flicked to switch to ‘off’ and grasped the plug, tugging with just enough force to ease it out of the socket.  But the plug wouldn’t budge.  She tugged again, and again the plug held fast.

Seeing her struggling I went over to help and gave the plug a hefty pull myself  -  but alas, the plug refused to move an inch.  Focusing on the stubborn plug, I didn’t noticed the pen rolling towards me on a nearby table  -  but Sue did.  She screamed and screamed in my ear and I stood up in shock, getting head spins instantly.  Sue pointed to the rolling pen and I watched it move by itself as though in a trance.  Denise stood rooted to the spot, mouth and eyes wide open, shaking her head in disbelief, and everything seemed surreal and in slow motion.  I couldn’t believe what we were seeing, but we were definitely seeing it.

Finally breaking from my mini-trance, I grabbed Sue’s hand and dragged her towards the door, ushering Denise ahead of us along the way.  I didn’t bother packing the vacuum cleaner and cleaning stuff away  -  just took off then and there leaving everything as we left it.

I vowed never to go back to that haunted High School  -  but I had to just one last time.

I fronted up to the school’s office the following day and handed in my resignation, beginning right then and there.  The human resource officer asked me why I’d decided to quit my job with such short notice, as she’d thought I seemed quite happy with the job.  I decided that I may as well be honest and upfront with her, so told her that I felt uncomfortable and spooked-out in the creepy ‘Parry Wing’ and about some of the things that my daughters and I had experienced over the last week or so in particular.

The human resource officer didn’t bat an eyelid.  Instead she sat nodding her head slowly, as though confirming what I was telling her.  Once I’d finished she asked me if I knew anything about the history of the school ... and in particular, the history of the ‘Parry Wing’.  I shook my head No as I had no idea.  She began by telling me that I wasn't the first person to quit the cleaner's position, nor was I the first to speak of 'disturbances' in the 'Parry Wing'. 

According to history, during the upgrade and renovation of the original school building, a large part of an old, brittle brick wall unexpectedly  fell down, killing a teacher who’d used his body to shield three children from harm, when the wall collapsed on them.  The teacher’s name had been ‘Steven Parry’ – hence the naming of that particular section the ‘Parry Wing’.  Apparently, Mr Parry had been quite a tall man at 6’5 and it had been assumed at the time that the new section of building would house his classroom in particular.  It seemed Steven Parry loved his job and didn't want to leave the school ... even after his death.

I haven’t been back to the haunted High School since then and it was some years ago now ... but I do sometimes wonder if the school teacher is still haunting the high school.