SPECTRAL

My Ghost Stories

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

I AM THE WORST.

I have been AWFUL at updating. The holiday season has eaten me alive. But there will be an update in the upcoming days!

[theanxiousteenager1121]

I got a ghost story for u all so sit down

a few nights ago I was home alone and was going to go into the bathroom because I needed to pee and there was this weird ass shadow on the wall that looked like my shadow but it didn’t move when I move so I was like wtf and moved around to see if it did anything and it didn’t, there wasn’t anyone else in the house so I thought it might have just been like a chair or something and then stood still for a sec and I shizzouka you not this thing leaped its shadowy ass at me just lunged and I dipped so fast and did not come out of my room and almost pissed myself and I didn’t pee till the next morning because ill take a bladder infection over a goddamn demon chewing on my left asscheek any day

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

lovely.

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Bookstore Parking Lot

My best friend, Sarah, and I would often meet up at a local Barnes & Noble/Starbucks so that we could continue whatever that day’s adventure would be. We always parked in the same spots near the back of the parking lot, and it eventually earned the name, “The ‘Bucks” (based on Starbucks’ handle). I digress, Sarah and I always ended up here for one reason or another. On this particular evening, we had been sitting in my car in that parking lot talking shit and having deep conversations about life and such. And it was a beautiful, Summer evening which required my car windows to be rolled down.

Source: Google Maps. Imagine this... but at 10pm.

While conversing, I began to notice that my car’s outside temperature gauge was reading an unusually high degree compared to the outside air. My car had always been a little persnickety, so I chalked that up to another electrical problem and carried on. Then it started climbing at a rate of 1 degree per 30 seconds or so. I pointed it out to Sarah and we both were increasingly confused by what we were seeing. A couple of minutes of mindless trouble-shooting floated by, and eventually we laughed it off and gave up figuring it out. Then I heard footsteps.

Scrape. Scrape, crunch, scrape. SCRAPE.

These footsteps approached my window on the driver’s side. Too scared to turn and see what was standing next to me, I asked Sarah to tell me. She looked at me in horror and said she couldn’t see anyone. Without taking my eyes off of her, I felt around for the button to roll my window up. I knew someone had walked up to my car. I could hear the footsteps plain as day, and they stopped right next to me. Up my car window up. And I was absolutely spooked.

We nervously laughed off the situation, joking around about my weird connections to the paranormal. Moments passed when I looked up at the temperature gauge again. 118 degrees. My car wasn’t even on. The actual temperature outside had to have only been in the 70s. Why was my car freaking out so bad? Why was there an invisible human standing next to my car? My heart was in my throat at this point, and Sarah felt the same way. She attempted to muster the courage to get in her own car and drive home, but things kept getting creepier. To my left were a few pine trees and bushes. In those trees stood a man that wasn’t there before. He stared at me with such intensity, and with that I knew it was time to relocate both Sarah and I elsewhere. Then, the man disappeared. I didn’t see him walking anywhere, (mind you, we were in an open parking lot next to a closed mall with an even more open lot). I didn’t really care to try and debunk whether this man was a ghost or just a homeless fellow. 

I threw my car in reverse, backed out of my spot, and aimed the vehicle towards the exit. We were getting out of there. As my car grew nearer to the exit, and as Sarah tried to ease my concerns, that man jumped in front of my car like a flash. His hands were up, and he was covered in blood. I still remember the fear in his eyes as my headlights flooded the road in front of me. I yelled and slammed on my breaks to avoid the guy, but he was out of sight in a matter of milliseconds. Again, this guy was nowhere to be found. At this point, all I could do was cry. I sat there for a minute, frozen and crying, trying to get a grip. I knew that the guy I saw wasn’t alive. I knew he was a drifting soul who never moved on from death. My temperature gauge at this point was in the 120s, and I knew I had to gather my wits and continue driving Sarah and I out of there. Choked up and scared to death, Sarah tried really hard to be as level-headed as possible while talking me out of the parking lot. 

All we could do was cry and ask, “What the fuck was that?!” Over and over again. We ended up at Wal-Mart about a half-mile away from “The Bucks”. There, we ordered two, large fries and Cokes from McDonald’s, sniffed a bunch of candles, and try to make sense of our evening. My car’s temperature gauge read a normal reading.

Source: mcdonalds.com.au/menu. Because nothing solves the fear of the unknown quite like deep-fried potatoes.

An hour or so later, around 1am, we knew we both needed to get home. Back into my car we went, with all the hesitation in the world. The plan was to get her back to her car, make sure her car started, and leave the parking lot at the same time. Upon our arrival back to the lot, she leapt into her car and turned the ignition. It wouldn’t start. She tried again, and it took forever to putter back to life. I remember the urgency and fear on her face when she tried to get her car started. Finally, after several attempts, the car roared back to life. Her battery was fine, her car was running like a champ. All the lights had been off for several hours, so we couldn’t explain the struggle for her car to turn on. My theory is that our new, ghost friend had taken a whole lot of energy from her vehicle and mine to manifest the way her did, (that’s pretty normal for spirits to do this). And with that, we drove to our homes.

Since that night, I’ve tried to research crimes/tragic accidents that occurred in that area to see if I could find out who that man was. But nothing really jumped out at me. The area this happened in isn’t exactly the nicest part of town... so it could have been anyone. As for my car’s temperature gauge? The only time I’ve noticed it acting suspicious is in parts of town where I’ve had other, supernatural experiences. I don’t know... But from that point on, we took extra care to not spend too long playing catch-up in that lot. 

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Series 2: The House on Cheyenne Boulevard

This is the second series I plan on periodically writing about. Let me preface this series by saying that this house is the scariest place I’ve ever been in. There will be many parts to this series. Many.

THE HOUSE ON CHEYENNE BOULEVARD - BLINK

My childhood bedroom on Cheyenne Boulevard was the most uncomfortable, threatening and horrendous place to sleep. There were at least two spirits (one of which was a shadow person), who took up permanent residence in the corner furthest from my bed. I’ll discuss him on a later date. For this story, I will focus on the other spirit. The one that loved my closet.

Each night, after turning off my bedroom lights, I would climb into bed, close my eyes, and wait. What was I waiting for? The sense that something was watching me. Some nights, that feeling never came. Those nights, I got to sleep really well. But some nights, that dreadful feeling would come creeping in. It came in the form of a hot flash, sweaty and cold. But I never dared to take the blankets off of me. No, instead I would cover my entire person, head to toe. I wouldn’t move. Eventually I would fall asleep and everything would be okay by morning. Most times, though, I would eventually have to turn over and face what scared me so bad. 

What would I see?

My closet didn’t have doors on it. Instead, it had a decorative curtain. I usually had it drawn closed. On the curtain, there would be a tiny ball of light. It would move a few inches here or there. Sometimes it would dim, sometimes it would get really bright. For awhile, I blamed it on a street light in the parking lot next to my house. But upon further investigation, I discovered that the street light was bright orange and too far down the lot to shine into my room, (which was located in the basement... forgot that detail). I kept trying to debunk this eerie oddity. I kept my closet curtain open one night and saw that the little ball of light relocated itself elsewhere in my closet. It still kept the same shape. It still did its shifting thing, just by a few inches. 

One night, I had my best friend, Sarah, over. I let her sleep on my bed because (and this will be addressed in another story) she always got really sick sleeping elsewhere in my room. I set up my dad’s Army cot near my closet, which is where I was going to be sleeping that night. After a few hours of friendshipping, we decided to call it a night and get some sleep. Sarah fell asleep pretty quickly, leaving me to my discomfort in knowing that my unearthly friends would soon be making an appearance. Lo and behold. the little ball of light appeared. I stared at it. I closed my eyes after a few minutes in hopes it would be gone when I opened them again. When I did open my eyes, the ball was even brighter. 

I gathered some sort of courage, sat up and got off the cot. Then, I walked towards the ball half-angry and half-scared. Once I got close enough to make out some details of this “ball”, it stopped moving around. That’s when my stomach turned. What I thought was just a glowing ball of light was actually a glowing eye. A glowing, staring eye. I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I turned around to see if Sarah was awake, but she was sound asleep. Then I shifted my weight back to the curtain to see that the glowing eye was gone. Slowly, I backed into my cot, not taking my eyes off the curtain. I stayed awake virtually the entire night.

This glowing eye returned most nights, despite me discovering what it was. I hated it. I hated being watched and not having any control of it. At some point, I hated it so much that I got the balls to address it. So, one evening after turning my lights off, I made the decision to talk to this phantom eye. I waited for about an hour when it appeared. Then, I took a deep breath and sternly said, “I need you to leave me alone.” The light blinked. “I mean it. Leave me alone.” The light blinked once more, then disappeared. I didn’t see it again for a few weeks. I eventually had to use this trick again, because my glowing eye returned. It would always listen, though. It would always vanish when I told it to.

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Series 1: 7th Street - Dark

My little brother’s room was at one time in the laundry room. It felt like the safest room in the house in regard to the ghostly activity throughout. Rarely did I experience anything spooky in there.

My brother’s room/laundry room on 7th Street. Source: Zillow.com. 

On this particular occasion, my brother was at a sleepover somewhere. I ended up in his room playing with his toys (because Hot Wheels are way more badass then dolls), and eventually fell asleep on his bed. Some hours later, I awoke to the sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom door. The room was incredibly hot, but the dryer and washing machines weren’t on. It was also super dark, even with the shades drawn open on the windows, (there was always this bright street light outside that made the whole room glow at night). The footsteps were slow, but loud.

I sat up, looked to my left toward the doorway and waited. After a few seconds, the footsteps stopped. So I laid back down and waited. At first, I thought that maybe mom or dad were walking around in the bathroom that was situated next to this bedroom. So my suspicions were lessened at the thought. However, I noticed the bathroom light wasn’t leaking through the bottom of the bedroom door as it usually does. Again, I sat up and I waited. Seconds later, I heard the footsteps again.

Somehow, I managed enough courage to open the door. Slowly. I poked my nose out of the doorway and listened again. It was so quiet, you could hear the soft snoring of my parents in their bedroom. I scanned the dark hallway without turning on the light, because honestly I was scared of what may be looking back at me. Then, the footsteps plodded right up to me. I didn’t move. The creaking linoleum floor stretched the footsteps’ noises in a dramatic fashion, and the lump in my throat grew bigger. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I just trembled. After what felt like eons, I moved backward into the bedroom and closed the door. There I stood in the doorway, waiting to hear what noises would come along next. But nothing more happened.

Side Note: I will revisit 7th Street with accounts from my family soon! Stay tuned.

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Last Night

This is just a quick story to hold ya’ll over until my next big post.

So over the weekend, I spent some time with some friends in Denver. The apartment I stayed in was built in the 60s, but I rarely get negative vibes from it. Sure, it sits on the same chunk of land as a hospital that is under some heavy renovations. I’m sure all of that change could potentially disturb any spirits who haven’t accepted their demise yet. But honestly, the worst I’ve felt was just that strange feeling of being watched.

Anyways last night, my friends were playing an improv game in the living room. I didn’t participate much because I’m not an improv person hahaha. But as they were doing their thing, I felt three distinct taps on the couch pillow I was leaning on. Where I was situated on the couch, no one could possibly be behind me in order to do that. I turned around thinking maybe the cat that lives there was trying to get my attention. But he wasn’t even around. Nothing was there to make those taps.

I chalked that up to being nothing to worry about and continued to watch my friends. Then, I got that eerie feeling that someone was standing in the small hallway behind me. I turned around again and didn’t see anyone or anything. But I felt this heavy sense of dread. Again, I tried to write it off. I had been feeling off all day anyway (thanks to a mad hangover). 

After everyone had gone home and to bed, I was the only one left in the living room. I set up a few blankets and pillows on the couch so I could get some sleep. Before I sleep, I typically scroll through Instagram until I get tired. About 10 minutes had passed when I suddenly got that strange feeling of being watched. I put my phone down away from my face and looked down that little hallway. There wasn’t anything there. So I continued to stare, convincing myself that I was just tired, (but I wasn’t because insomnia). I laid there for another minute, then something thick and transparent crossed from the kitchen into the hallway. It was about 6 feet up in the air and didn’t move like a small bug or something. It slowly moved from where one of the kitchen cabinets is and went down into the small hallway next to it. 

Then I heard a man’s voice say something. I don’t know what it said, it was only about three words, one of which was really close to something I could understand. It didn’t sound muffled, it didn’t sound far away. It sounded like someone trying to talk as if they had a secret. You know, like when you’re telling a friend something in a low voice so that no one else can hear. That sort of tone. I continued to stare down that small hallway, hoping that something else may come up. But nothing more happened.

It wasn’t scary. I honestly think that it was just a soul passing through the apartment on his way to other places. But it was a little odd, nonetheless.

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Why I Don’t Use Ouija Boards

I cannot stress enough how against Ouija Boards I am. Each experience I’ve had with one has ended terribly, and this experience in particular really hit it home for me.

About eight years ago, my group of friends from high school decided to have a big ol’ get together at my friend Melissa’s* house. She lived in a neat little neighborhood in Green Mountain Falls, Colorado, right up against the side of a mountain. Anyways, so we all arrive, we eat some snacks, we yuck it up. Then one friend mentioned that she had brought along a Ouija Board. So, naturally, the crew wanted to play with it. I was hesitant, but decided that it wouldn’t be so bad because my friends were just doing it for shits and grins. There wasn’t any end goal other than pure entertainment. 

Boy was I wrong.

Now, let me set this scene up a little more. Melissa’s house was situated on the same plot of land as an abandoned log cabin/house about 100 feet away. All the wires to and from the house were cut, which one of my friends has told me that she thought that was odd. Honestly, this house gave me the worst vibes from the jump. It sat oddly on the side of the road, the dark wood and stark contrast in comparison to the other houses nearby was off-putting. But there was a super ominous tone that I couldn’t shake. Well, my friends decided to take the Ouija board to the backside of the house. 

The abandoned house. Source: Google Maps. This is a really shitty screenshot, but whatever. I tried.

As we were walking through the small field of weeds, my nerves got more and more shaken. The rest of the crew skipped, laughed, shined flashlights in each other’s faces without a hint of concern, so I tried not to worry. Once we got settled on the small back porch, we began. I’m not sure who asked what questions. Actually if I remember correctly, the whole session was kinda stupid because we kept getting dumb answers from “the other side”. Something about a man from eastern Europe named Bob... I don’t know.

I began to ease my anxiety and relax a bit because I seriously thought this wasn’t going to amount to shit. In fact, I actually got pretty bored. Eventually, I announced that I needed to pee, so I was going to head back to Melissa’s house. Another friend, Olive* came along with me. As we were crossing the small field back, one of my friends had called out to Olive and I to wait. I turned around, and the site I saw sickened me.

Up at the top of the abandoned house, crawling out of the chimney, was an oddly shaped, elongated human. I don’t even know if it was human! The limbs on this creature were roughly 6 feet long, and they slinked out of the stone chimney in such a sinister, menacing, spider-like way. One limb at a time, spreading themselves down the small slopes of the roof. I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I don’t even remember my friends talking to me at that moment. I couldn’t take my eyes off the creature. It’s head turned to look at me, and it stayed still. I stayed still. 

The creature. Source: My own drawing.

Then, just as slowly as it came out, it slinked back into its hiding place in the chimney. First the legs, then the arms, and finally the head. But the head popped back up one more time and looked in my direction, almost as if it wanted me to know that it knew that I could see it. Then, I curled up in the grass to hide or something. Whatever I could do to make myself feel safe again.

I started to shake, and I even cried. Olive looked at me with concern and asked me several times if I was okay. I vaguely remember telling her to tell the rest of the group to wrap up their Ouija board adventure. They were in danger. Whether that came in the form of physical or mental harm, I wasn’t sure. But I knew they needed to get out of there. Eventually, everyone collected back into Melissa’s place. 

Can I prove that the Ouija Board is to blame for me seeing a creature slithering out of an abandoned home? No. But because these two experiences happened in close proximity to each other (same property, time, and horrible feelings), I cannot be in the presence of a Ouija Board. I see young kids play with them and it worries me to death, because I truly feel that the boards are responsible for some scary shit that walk the earth. Call it suspicion, but I’ll call it spiritual safety.

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Series 1: 7th Street - The Basement

7th Street - The Basement

Now, as if seeing black shadows in the shape of children wasn’t freaky enough, there were strange things going on in the lowest portion of our house. The basement was unfinished. Loud, creaky wood floors, thick concrete walls and a couple of lightbulbs were all the could be found. Oh except for the strange sculptural pieces and dioramas stored in the very back of the room. The pieces of... um... art freaked me out for two reasons: For one, they were sadistic. One piece in particular was a depiction of burning crosses and tiny KKK dolls surrounding these crosses. There were little pieces of fake plant life to make the scene more realistic. All of this was set up inside of a gutted, 1960s television. Another odd piece of art was a pair of blue jeans set up on the bottom half of a mannequin. For the longest time, I thought they were real legs, stuffed like a taxidermied animal. But after a few pokes with a broomstick, I was relieved to find out that they were fake legs.  So basically, the basement was this sort of sick pawn shop of all things twisted and wrong. It also was the home of a ghost that really enjoyed scaring the hell out of kids.Yes, this basement was weird. So many could argue that the eerie scenery would be enough to spook anyone into believing in ghosts. But when a number of friends and neighborhood kids would avoid the basement at all cost, you know something was up. 

Source: Zillow.com

My brother, Zane, and I had a small hangout spot setup in the basement. Mom and Dad had pitched a tent for a “clubhouse” of sorts, and even set up a small TV that had cable on it. Every once in awhile, we would have friends over for sleepovers and the idea of “camping” in our basement somehow sounded like a really good idea. On one particular evening, we had a neighborhood friend staying over. After plenty of snacks and being loud 10 and 7 year-olds, we finally fell asleep in sleeping bags inside the tent. At some point in the night, I woke up with a jolt. It was really dark. That heavy kind of dark where you almost feel like you can’t breathe. I started to panic because before we all went to sleep, I distinctly remembered us all agreeing to keep the overhead lights on so that we didn’t get scared. But the lights were off.

I sat up slowly in my sleeping bag and heard both my brother and the other kid softly breathing/snoring. About 30 seconds passed and I started to convince myself that I was freaking out for no reason. Then, I heard the dense sound of a pair of feet walking toward the tent. At first, I thought maybe Mom or Dad had woken up and gone to the restroom upstairs. But the footsteps got louder as they approached the tent. By now, I was in a full sweat with fear. I got enough of a voice to say something. “Dad?”

Nothing.

Silence.

“Dad is that you?” 

The footsteps slowly slinked around the tent. Clump, clump, clump. As if they had a pair of work boots on. I tried waking Zane up, but he slept like a rock. The footsteps continued to walk in circles around the tent. At this point, I started to sob. Then that sob turned into a loud cry. Both the boys woke up and asked me what was wrong. At that point, the footsteps ceased. My parents must have heard me cry out because Dad came down into the basement to see what was going on. Needless to say, all three of us grabbed our sleeping stuff and went back into the upstairs part. I remember sleeping with the TV on in order to get some comfort again.

I never saw the entity who made these footsteps. But from the sounds of how heavy the steps were, I assume it was a male. And each time I had to go to the basement for any reason, I would be approached by these footsteps. I hated going down there. Absolutely hated it.

Eventually, I will have other stories about the basement to update you on. I know the rest of my family has had their own experiences. It certainly isn’t the SCARIEST basement I’ve ever been in, (oh no... not by a long shot). But it was pretty damn spooky.

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Series 1: 7th Street - The Shadow Kids

I’m planning on dividing certain sections of my tales into location-based bits. Basically, if a place had multiple stories, they will be part of a series. This one is all about my family’s home on 7th Street.

7th Street - The Shadow Kids

Before I introduce the stories that happened on 7th Street, allow me to introduce this location: When I was 7 years old, my family and I moved to a house in an old, Westside neighborhood in Colorado Springs, Colorado. This house was on a block surrounded by some of the strangest and friendliest neighbors I’ve ever encountered. We had a professional Santa Claus who lived down the block named Larry, who had also been an active member of the KKK. Another KKK member, (and recently a headline-making murderer) named “Popeye” lived next door to us. To the right of our house was a Hispanic family that paid the neighborhood kids in Otter Pops for sweeping their sidewalks. Across the street was the largest family I had ever seen shoved under one roof. And their son was Satan, I swear. Another neighbor was my good friend Jeffrey, who played with my younger brother and I multiple times a week. Down the road was an adult-child named Jason who rode bikes in the middle of the street with all the bike-owning kids. There were the Hawe family, who were made up of a single mom, a girl my age, and eight of their pets. Lastly, there was a drunk who helped me save a dying pigeon one time. I don’t know why you need to know all these people, because they don’t effect this story at all. But it’s a fun detail, right?

Anyways back to the actual house situation.  

216 North 7th Street was chock full of freaky shit. The house was like, 100 years old. It was in one of the first developed neighborhoods of the city which housed miners from the Gold Camp area. So of course, the house was set up for success when it came to the creep factor.

Source: Realtor.com

The layout of this house was pretty normal. Each room was finished, had working electricity and utilities, the usual. But each room carried its own energy, most of which were negative. But I’ll get to the individual rooms in a later post. For this story, I will focus on my bedroom. More specifically, the Shadow Kids who visited me in there. When shadowy spirits show up, it’s not often considered a good thing. I’m not saying that all shadow spirits are demonic or evil in nature, but based on my experiences, they aren’t the friendliest of creatures. Let me tell you two stories about the Shadow Kids.

My bedroom. Source: Zillow.com

When I was around 8 years old, I had a sleepover with my friend Melissa* (name changed due to privacy). We had both fallen asleep on palettes on my bedroom floor facing my bed. Sometime in the middle of the night, when all was dark, I jolted awake from a deep sleep. My eyes fell upon my bed and wouldn’t leave. It was as if I knew something was about to happen on that bed. Not but 10 seconds later, two black shadows in the shape of kids were hopping up and down on my mattress. They were silent, but menacing. The way they jumped was almost animated, like a twisted cartoon. Hop, hop, hop they went. My blankets ever creasing with each bounce. I sat up quickly and hissed at them to go away. My heart was racing and I didn’t know whether to cry or scream. They jumped higher and higher, and got bigger and denser in shade. Finally, after was felt like an eternity, I stood up and turned on the lights. 

Both of the Shadow Kids were gone. Nothing was left of them other than wrinkled blankets strewn across my mattress. Melissa woke up and asked me to turn off the lights, but I couldn’t make myself do it. So we both grabbed our blankets and pillows and moved the sleepover to the living room. She had asked me what was wrong, and I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t want to scare her. I ended up not getting much sleep that night.

The Shadow Kids didn’t seem to want to leave. In fact they appeared on several other occasions during the night, each time in a sinister and playful manner. On this particular occasion, I was asleep in my bedroom with my bed positioned parallel to the door. I usually slept with my door open so I could holler out to my parents if need be. Again, I found myself compelled to wake up quickly in the middle of the night. Some sort of noise was happening outside of my door, so I rolled over to investigate. 

There, on the left side of my door frame, was a Shadow boy. His head peaked around the threshold several times, as if to tease or play peak-a-boo. His outline looked a lot like my brother’s, so my immediate reaction was to shout at him to get back to bed. 

This photo was taken around the time of this story. On the right is my brother. So basically imagine the outline of his body filled with a dense, black shadow. Source: Me.

“Go to bed, Zane!” I whispered sharply.

The shadow continued his little dance, peaking in and out of my room. 

“ZANE. GO TO BED.” 

This time, it waved. And I got angry.

“WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME!” I yelled.

Suddenly, the lights came on from the room outside of mine, and the boy disappeared. Dad grumpily stomped into my doorframe and asked me what I was yelling at. I told him that Zane was out of bed like he wasn’t supposed to be. So, off he went to check Zane’s room to see what the fuss was about. Dad returned a few moments later and told me with confusion and irritation that he was sound asleep in his bedroom. I started to cry out of frustration because for one, Dad didn’t believe me, and for two, Zane was trying to pull a trick on me. I calmed down enough to go to the bathroom and walked past my brother’s room to see that, in fact, he was dead asleep. Snoring and all. I cried and cried out of confusion and fear. Dad told me to try to get back to sleep, but I was absolutely terrified. So he spent the rest of his night with the TV on low volume, being sure to leave the living room light on to give me comfort.

Shadow people have visited me many times since. Like I said, not all give off an evil impression. But the Shadow Kids inside of that house were there to taunt. Sometimes they would whisper to me, other times they like to open and close my door. I hated nighttime because that meant that I would potentially have to make it through another horrifying night with these entities. Now that I am older, I know that being firm with these spirits, letting them know who’s boss will make them leave you alone. But to this day, I can’t sleep without a light on, some white noise from my fan, and the doors closed. 

[spectralmyparanormalencounters]

Kira -  The Prologue

I started seeing unexplainable beings at an early age. Different family members have told me stories about how I would often talk to invisible people. Or dance with. Or even sing to. The earliest memory I have of this has to do with an “angel” named Kira.

Kira visited me all the time, especially when I was around my grandparents. Oftentimes, they would incorporate Kira into their own lives in order to make me feel more validated (as adults tend to do with children). I’m sure a lot of people thought I was being your typical five year old with an imaginary friend. The thing is, I knew the difference. Around that same time, I did have an imaginary friend named “Rainar” who was a giant, brown stuffed teddy bear with a machine gun and camoflauge headband. Rainar and I would play in my backyard and swing on the swings at my elementary school playground. But Kira wasn’t imaginary. She was, in fact, very real.

My family referred to her as “my angel”. She had strawberry hair that hung in tight curls, a white and pink dress straight from the 1920s, and long skinny legs. Kira was a little older than me, maybe eight or nine years old. She never spoke, just smiled and laughed. I would see her everywhere, and I loved to dance with and sing to her. There is photographic evidence of me doing just that… somewhere.

Anyways.

One of my fondest memories of Kira happened at a Christmas program at some church I went to. I was part of the little children’s choir or something, and I had only one audience member in mind the entire time I performed: Kira. On our way home, I sat in the back of my grandparent’s Ford Explorer and told them that Kira saw the whole show and loved it. And she was sitting in the hatchback portion of the car with a beaming smile. I told my grandparents that she was with us and they greeted her like an old friend. It was a warm feeling.

I haven’t seen or heard from Kira since 1998 or so. I miss her, too. But something tells me she was, indeed, a type of angel watching me while I grew out of my pre-k years.

But that was only the beginning of what was to come for the rest of my life. I didn’t know that more spirits of varying forms would come to me. I didn’t expect the shame and ridicule that would accompany it. People referred to my ghostly encounters as gifts, or blessings. Some saw it as a curse, and even forced me to put my faith in God into question. As for my standpoint, I’m neither bothered nor chill about the whole situation. My sensitivity to things unseen has indeed been a nightmare, but I’ve also felt great peace, too.

So, with that said, I welcome you into this bizarre adventure into the paranormal experiences I’ve witnessed or been apart of thus far in my life. This is Spectral.