The Creepy Old Caravan

* Sent in by Selena Coles (Queensland, Australia)

I don’t know much about ghosts and all that stuff but I’m pretty sure my husband renovated a haunted caravan.  Sounds weird I know, but nothing else can explain it.

My hubby Tony started his own business after he retired, buying, renovating, refurbishing and selling caravans and camper trailers.  His specialty was old retro vans and people sought him out for his expertise and attention to detail.

A few years back a couple in their early 40’s came in with a tired, rundown old caravan dating back to the 70’s.  It was a big old beauty but it was in very bad condition.  Tony got to work on it nonetheless, optimistic about its eventual restoration.

Working in the yard one day I could hear Tony calling my name from his workshop.  I made my way into the shed wondering what all the fuss was about.  I couldn’t see Tony anywhere so I called his name loudly.  His head popped out the door of the old van with a perplexed look on his face.

“Did you just call me darl?” Tony asked me.

“Yes ... I called you because you called me ... didn’t you?” I replied.

Tony then emerged from the van looking all the more confused.  “No I didn’t ... you were calling me.”

I shook my head in disagreement.

“You called me first though didn’t you?” he asked me.

Then it was my turn to be confused.  Tony went on to explain that while he’d been working on the van he’d heard me calling him.  He said it sounded as though I was right behind him in the van, but when he turned around I wasn’t there, so he went back to his work.  A couple of moments later he said he’d heard me call his name again, then again.  That was when he’d called out to me.

Leaving us both a little baffled, we both went off to do our respective chores ... Tony back to his van and me back to the weeding in the garden.

Later that night Tony brought up the strange experience again, but the more we discussed it, the more confused we became.

The following morning I headed into town and didn’t return until early evening.  Tony had closed up his workshop (strange within itself) and was waiting for me in the kitchen upon my return.  He looked more than just a little rattled.

“You were calling me again today,” he stated before I’d even had a chance to put my handbag down.  He continued, “I kept feeling like someone was watching me all day.  Every time I went near the old van I kept getting the feeling that I wasn’t alone.  And I’d get myself a tool to do something, but the moment I put it down it was moved or disappeared completely.  I found my screwdriver up on one of the cabinets and I know I never put it there.  Took me half an hour to find it.”

I certainly couldn’t imagine what was going on, but Tony wasn’t one to make up stories.
A week or so later the owners of the van rang to see how the renovations were progressing.  Tony asked them what they knew of the history of the van, and they told him that they’d bought it through a friend, so would see what they could find out.

Tony worked on the van diligently and did a splendid job of restoring it as well as installing some modern conveniences as per the owner’s requirements.  Each night though, after spending time working on the van, Tony would tell me about the constant feeling of being watched, hearing his name amongst other words and voices, his tools continued to vanish and turn up in odd places and it was always cold inside the caravan.

The caravan was near completion and I was curious to take a look for myself.  Tony was busy fitting new lights to the outside of the van so I took myself inside and sat on the newly refurbished couch.  

I can’t really explain what I felt or why, but within a few moments I felt a cold chill run right through me and I shivered involuntarily.  I also got the feeling that someone was watching me from the moment I stepped inside.  As much as I was determined to stick it out, I just felt so uncomfortable that I was forced out of the van.  All I really know is that there was something strange about that old caravan and both Tony and I were glad to see it finally finished and out of the workshop.

When the owners arrived to pick it up they were over the Moon about the job Tony had done on their own van ... but hadn’t been able to find out the origins of the van or any information about its history.  I don’t think I really want to know anyway.  I’m just pleased nothing like that has happened to us since.

**

* Sent in by Selena Coles (Queensland, Australia)

Forced Out Of Our Own Home

 * Sent in by Samantha Bouncer

In hindsight, I should have been a little suspicious when our neighbour Jacob told me that all the previous tenants of the house we’d just rented never stayed for very long.  But at the time I was so happy that we’d managed to find a decent place to rent that I didn’t give it a second thought.

I was pregnant with my first child and my priority was a safe and secure home for our little family.  The first four months were quite uneventful for me and my partner Mark, but after our son Jayden was born strange things started happening.

Our near-new television set started flickering when we watched it at night, then it stopped working altogether.  I sent it off to be repaired only to have the repairman ring me a few days later to tell me that my TV was in perfect working order and not a problem could be found.  So I got it back and it worked again for a couple of nights until it went blank and shut down.  I took it to a different repair shop, and exactly the same thing happened.  Nothing wrong with it.  Within a fortnight our washing machine, dryer and stereo all broke down unexpectedly.  

My cat Chloe also started behaving strangely.  She had always been a very loving and relaxed cat, but I noticed that she seemed spooked most of the time and didn’t like to spend time inside the house.  Chloe would sit staring at nothing and would occasionally hiss and spit and lash out at something (or someone) that we just couldn’t see.  She seemed tormented and unsettled all the time so I ended up giving my beloved Chloe to my sister Sarah, where she settled in straight away and quickly went back to her old happy, loving ways.

Not long after Chloe’s departure we started hearing all sorts of noises, banging, footsteps and metallic-sounding scratching and tinging.  At times I would notice random unexplainable cold spots around the house. We also developed problems with the door and window locks.  I’d o out during the day only to come home to find the front door with open, knowing I’d securely locked it.  At other times I would go to get the mail or hang out the washing only to find I’d been locked out of the house.  Even when I’d chocked the door open, somehow it would close and lock.  I started having to carry a set of keys around with me when I was home.

The windows seemed to have a mind of their own and I’d find them open or closed at any time, knowing that I hadn’t touched them. We’d often hear banging on our bedroom walls and ceiling and doors opening and closing throughout the house.  Night times were eerie and creepy and I dreaded Jayden’s night time feeds.

I often felt very uncomfortable during the day when I was home alone with little Jayden.  I’d get the sensation that someone was watching me, and I’d feel the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise every time.  I particularly felt self-conscious when I was showering and changing my clothes. It really gave me the creeps.

I got up early one morning and checked on Jayden before making my way into the kitchen.  Once there I was confronted with my pots and pans on the floor and all the draws left open. I set about picking up the pots and putting them back in the cupboard, but as I’d put one in, another would fall off the shelf as though an unseen hand was pushing them off.  This was happening right in front of me and as much as I tried to hold onto my resolve I ended up fleeing the kitchen and hiding in my bedroom.  I rang Mark at his work and told him I’d had enough and wanted out of the house. Now.  I’d begun to feel more and more uncomfortable and safe and feared for all of us.

I also rang my friend Gina later that day and gave her an update on our creepy happenings.  She told me to leave it with her and she would get back to me later.  The following day she called me back with the name and number of a local medium and ghostbuster.  I rang and arranged for her to visit as soon as possible.

Within a couple of minutes of the medium entering my home, she commented that a young man in his late teens or early twenties was loitering but did not wish to communicate with her.  The medium persisted and walked from room to room.  She stopped in Jayden’s room and from the kitchen I could hear her quietly speaking out loud.

Some time later the medium came back into the kitchen and told me that she had tried to reason with our not-so-friendly ghost and convince him to go towards the light, but he had adamantly refused and had told her that he had no intention of leaving.  This was ‘his’ house and he’d be staying whether we liked it or not.  So, if he refused to leave, then we certainly would.  I made arrangements to move into my parent’s spare room right then and there.

Over the following two days we packed up our belongings and left, never looking back.

*
* Sent in by Samantha Bouncer

The Campfire Ghost

* Sent in by Ricky Compton

I still don’t know if it was a real ghost or not but it scared the crap out of me anyway.

Me and two of my mates went on a camping trip to Woods Point in Victoria about two years ago and it was a trip I’ll never forget.

I finally got my drivers’ license so decided to take a bit of a road trip one weekend.  I had never been there before, but my mate Geoff reckoned it was a great place to camp.

The first day we had a look at the old gold mines and shafts and did a bit of a tour of the area.  I didn’t like going into the old mines because they were unsafe and creepy.  I was happy to wait out the front while Geoff and Dave went in for a look.  Dave was sure he was going to find a rogue gold nugget and Geoff was always the first one to give anything a go.

Later that afternoon we pitched our tents, set up the swags and lit a campfire.  It was going to be a really cold night so we wanted to cook our food before dark and rug up in front of the fire.

It was about 11pm and I was ready to head into my swag for the night.  Geoff and Dave were doing the same.  Once settled we called out to one another, laughing and joking around.  I could see the silhouette of someone standing by the campfire.  I thought it must have been Dave, but then I heard his voice coming from the tent beside me.  So it must have been Geoff, so I yelled out and asked him what he was doing.  “Lying in bed” he told me, his voice coming from the tent to the right to me.  So with all three of us in our tents who was out there standing by the fire??

I didn’t want to get out of my swag, but my curiosity got the better of me.  I was scared but just couldn’t help myself.  

Peeking out through the zip on my tent, I saw an old bloke with a long, stringy grey beard, wearing a tattered flannel shirt.  But I couldn’t see below his knees or his feet.  All I could see was his head, torso and thighs.  I screamed in shock and fright.  The figure turned and looked at me then faded away to nothing.  I couldn’t believe my own eyes.  One moment the old man was there and the next he was gone.

By then Geoff and Dave were out of their tents demanding to know what the hell I was squealing about.

I stuttered and stammered and tried to describe what I’d seen.  The guys just looked at me like I was an idiot.  ‘Bullshit’ was the general consensus.

But I knew what I’d seen and no one could convince me otherwise.

We went back into our tents, but I didn’t sleep too well that night.

The entire following day the guys ribbed me about my ‘old man ghost’.  At every possible opportunity they stuck the boots in.  

I was so buggered that night that I went to bed not long after dinner, leaving Geoff and Dave by the fire.  I bombed out pretty quickly, but was woken up some time later by the sound of Dave yelling.  I sat up in my swag a bit disorientated.  Then I heard Geoff shuffling around in his tent.  Next thing I knew my tent zip opened and both Dave and Geoff bundled in.

“I saw him,” Dave blurted out.  “So did I” replied Geoff.  It took me a moment to register who they were talking about.  Then they described exactly what I’d seen the night before  -  an old bloke with a stringy grey beard and a flannelette shirt.  And just like the night before, the man’s feet and lower legs couldn’t be seen.

Both Dave and Geoff kept apologizing for taking the piss out of me.  We stayed awake for most of that night, way too spooked to sleep peacefully, and we were glad to see the Sun come up.

We left the campsite after breakfast and headed for home, glad to be leaving the ghost of the old man behind us.

*
* Sent in by Ricky Compton

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

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 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