Dreamwatch

Mystery Fiction. True Paranormal.

Tag: true ghost stories

Pet ghost cat plays with favorite toy

Pet ghost cat Edo plays with electronic device.

My 11 yr old tuxedo cat Edo had diabetes and I gave it shots twice a day for a year. My daughter and I loved him so very much. When he became a little ill, I had him put down. The shots, the time, the cost, was becoming too much for us.

Now, a year later, our pet ghost cat has come back.

We have this little stuffed animal pet toy cat that is broke and did not meow no more. It used to be his and then we let our kitten have it. Now this toy just meows on its own at the strangest times. I cannot make it meow myself, but it meows randomly when we look at videos of Edo, when we pet or feed our two new cats, and sometimes, for no reason at all. Also our new cat gets big and scared at nothing sometimes. (We think it’s Edo.)

Finally, in a picture my daughter took, there is an orb. Do you think pet spirits can actually make an electronic device make sound, even though we cannot get this toy to make sound anymore? I am not afraid, but wish Edo would go to the other side and have peace. Plus I fear that if I destroy this toy, he will feel that I got rid of him again.

The toy just meowed again as I am typing this.

— Rob in Pennsylvania

***

Thanks for story, Rob. In my opinion, messing with electricity seems to be a form of communication by our spirit friends. You’ll find many more stories in our archive of Phantom Smells, Sounds, Lights. and pet ghosts playing with favorite toys here on the pages of Pet Ghosts, Animal Ghosts.

When something strange and frightening like this happens, your story can help others know they are not alone. Submit Your Story here.

— Kat

###

Boy ghost in the closet

Little boy ghost in the closet. “Strange things started to happen…”

This is my paranormal experience about a little boy ghost in the closet.

My grandmother was sick with cancer and so my grandparents decided to give me her canopy bed. Strange things then started to happen the days after. Every night around 3:00 am on the dot my closet door would open and a little boy would walk out. This happened to me for seven days straight.

“I can still describe this little boy ghost in the closet.”

He had on dirty old clothes, he had pale skin, bowl hair cut, and dark eyes like the dead. He would stand at the foot of my bed for about 15 minutes or so then he would turn around and walk back into the closet. I am still afraid of the closet to this day.

— Heather in Kansas

Read similar true ghost stories in our archives of Kids See Ghosts and People Ghosts.

When something strange and frightening like this happens, your story can help others know they are not alone. We want to read what happened to you. Submit Your Story at DreamWatch.com, true paranormal experiences of everyday people. Your stories in your words.

***

A female figure true ghost story

“A female figure standing over me.”

I don’t think this female figure is supernatural, but no one can explain to me what exactly it is, so I put it to you here.

This happened in 2014. I had been having vivid dreams and centered a lot on death, or the passing of a loved one.

I woke up to a female figure standing over me, but I wasn’t scared, in fact I looked, rolled over and put my back to it and went back to sleep.

“A cool breeze on the back on my neck.”

My sleep has been interrupted for a while now and one day I felt a cool breeze on the back on my neck multiple times—inside the house. Once I actually thought someone was blowing on the back of my neck and I turned to confront them—except I was alone in my own house.

This morning I’m hearing wind chimes. There are none unless the neighbor got some yesterday.

Anyone had anything similar happen?

— Jade in South Africa

Yes, Jade, many others have had similar experiences. See their stories on our Phantom Smells, Sounds, Lights (and touches and other physical phenomena), and in our story archive of People Ghosts.

— Kat

We want to read your story. When something strange like this happens, your story can help others know they are not alone. Submit Your Story at DreamWatch. We believe!

***

“I Am Not Dead.”

True Ghost Story: “I Am Not Dead.”

In my dream a person came to me and said, “Joe Jones will be coming to see you. There may be others who come, but you need to be certain it’s really Joe.” A while later I was with Joe, and we were talking. I had been housekeeper for the elderly Joe and his wife.

“What’s it like where you are now?”

After Joe died suddenly several months earlier, his wife was having a difficult time. I told her that Joe was still with her, and that he would be there for her as long as she needed him. So as Joe and I talked, I asked him, “What’s it like where you are now?” I’m very curious about everything and am always asking people questions.

His answer was quite adamant, and very surprising. He said, “I am not dead.”

— anonymous in USA

Wow, this is a great story. Joe’s body is gone but Joe lives on. Let’s hope!

—Kat

Read similar True Ghost Stories in our archive of People Ghosts.

***

Creaky Old House of Ghosts

A grandmother’s house is supposed to be warm and nurturing, filled with knickknacks gathered over a lifetime and the aroma of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. A place to test the boundaries of already loose rules. My nana’s creaky old house was all of that and more.

Creaky old house with a history of ghosts

Located halfway down a cut-through street in a small mill town in Maine, it was a rambling red two-story structure with a porch on the front and wild raspberry bushes out back for eating and making pies. Generations had come and gone, and in the early days it was common practice to give birth in the house. However, under less than sterile conditions and with limited or no medical intervention, an infant had to come out fighting for his life. From there, common childhood diseases threatened a child’s long-term survival.

Adding to the hardship, winters were long and arduous. I’d heard of a still birth after a fall on the ice and the premature death of a toddler who succumbed to what would now be a common cold. Under these circumstances, the dining room space would be rearranged for a casket for viewing before a funeral. On the side of the house, a door barely wide enough to fit the narrow box was used strictly for that special purpose.

As with any house of considerable age, stories passed along generations. I’d heard them as I was growing up and each tale seemed to be accepted by the extended family as intrinsic lore of the creaky old house.

Great-grandmother’s ghost

By the time I’d reached my teenage years, my father had relayed on several occasions about the night he saw my deceased great grandmother, whom he’d never met while she was alive. Finding himself suddenly awake in the wee hours, his eyes were drawn to the crib where I slept nearby. An ethereal female figure hovered as if checking on her baby. Not recognizing the woman, my father studied her face to memorize her features before she glided across the room and disappeared through the wall. The next day, he noticed a sepia-toned photo hanging on the wall that bore the image of the woman he’d seen the night before and learned it was my mother’s grandmother who had passed in that same room.

Grandfather’s ghost

Also prone to sharing tales, my mother often told the story of what happened after her father’s funeral one frigid January. She lay awake in the dark, thinking of how much he hated the cold and worrying about where he was. Was it cold there? As if in response, just outside her room, the landing at the top of the stairs lit with a warm glow, which she sensed was her father assuring her he was okay.

My ghost encounter

While an occasional story entertained and underscored the age of the house and the family history, none of it touched me directly. That is, until one summer when I stayed at my grandmother’s house without the rest of my family.

It was the summer between my junior and senior years of college. I was working nearby at a sleepaway camp on an idyllic lake replete with loons that called mournfully in the morning fog. The evening before a day off, my aunt and uncle picked me up and delivered me to my grandmother’s to stay the night. Nana let me sleep in her room since, as far as she was concerned, it had the best mattress.

Ghost footsteps down the hall

After we settled into our respective bedrooms and I pulled the cord on the solitary light above the bed, I lay still, listening to the quiet and reflecting on the hubbub I’d left behind at the camp. Soon I could hear footsteps approaching from down the hall. Heavy footsteps that practically echoed on the old wood floor. They weren’t my grandmother’s. At that time of night she would have worn slippers and shuffled along with no urgency.

The ghost beside my bed

These footfalls had a purpose and were closing the distance between us. My breathing quickened and grew shallow. My body stiffened and I pressed my closed eyes tighter. It would have taken a crow bar to get them open at that moment. I listened as someone entered my room and came up to the side of the bed where I lay—and stopped. All pulmonary function in my body shut down. I sensed a man and could feel him standing close. Would he reach out and touch me? Keeping my lids pressed shut, I willed whoever it was to go away. Please go away. I don’t want to know. Please go. My body broke out in a cold sweat. I listened, but there were no more footsteps. No sounds at all. Just deafening silence. Was he still there? Without ever opening my eyes again that night, at some point I finally fell asleep.

In the morning, I woke to brilliant sunshine flooding the room, and my thoughts went straight to what I’d heard the night before. Who had paid me a visit? One of my relatives who had passed long before I’d arrived on the scene? Someone more recent? I wasn’t ready to go down that path. It was too soon. Too raw.

Becoming accustomed to ghosts

Although certain members of my family had the ability to sense paranormal activity, I wanted no part of it. The thought terrified me. What if I was particularly good at it and it went beyond the occasional occurrence? Or what if I opened the wrong door and invited in a less-than-desirable spirit—something evil? At that point in my life, I couldn’t wrap my head around it and chose to construct a wall of sorts to keep it all out. Leave me alone. Please.

It wasn’t until a few years later when I’d grown more used to the idea of being open to paranormal that I began to embrace the idea. Once I accepted the very real possibility I could connect, I began to experience interactions with the other side. Unlike my initial experience, alone and quivering in my grandmother’s bed, I’ve been consistently intrigued with each one—coming away in awe and reverence. None have scared me. Not yet, anyway.

— Penny, Connecticut

This true ghost story was submitted by mystery author Penny Goetjen. See our conversation about books, writing, and life on my personal author blog: Writings on the Wall. Penny’s interview is titled: Precipice series author Penny Goetjen in conversation.

— Kat

***

© 2019 Dreamwatch

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑