WARNING: Don’t read this at night if you want to get any sleep. This story will be long, and will include tidbits of other experiences I had leading up to the one that proved without a doubt that ghosts do exist. It is important to know about all of the things my brother and I experienced, and the type of house and mentality we had because I believe your energy and the willingness to believe is what allows spirits to prove their existence to you.
I grew up in a large, dark and damp cliche of what everyone pictures a haunted house would look like. For more than a hundred years the house has loomed on top of a hill lined with foreboding oak trees where murders of crows would frequently stop. I have an older sister (7 years older) who was a problem child and very into the occult, demons, and devil worshiping and she would terrify my younger brother and I with stories and just the general way she would look at us blankly. She wore black lipstick and died her hair black. When she turned about 13 she became even more rebellious and she would run away and be missing for weeks and months. She was the one who originally introduced my brother and I to the Ouija board. My mother was an alcoholic, mentally ill woman (she is bipolar and was suicidal) in charge of watching us kids while my dad worked the night shifts, and many times double shifts. To say our home had a bad energy would be an understatement.
We would later learn the dark history of our home from the 90 year old woman across the street. Mrs. Looker told us that our home was built as a home for unwed mothers and so many births, deaths, and abortions (at the time this was VERY much frowned upon) happened there over the years. It served that purpose for about 20 years until it was forced to be shut down, and then was sold into a family who lived there until 1970 when my father bought it for “an unbelievable price”. He still lives there today..
The first prefacing experience is one that I only very vaguely remember but my mom has told to me in full detail many times and my dad (who doesn’t believe in ghosts) also corroborates. My mom was outside sunbathing and my sister was inside with a friend of hers. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a butter knife and was holding it in a fist with the tip pointed to the ground when I slowly walked into the living room where my sister was playing with her friend. I had a blank look on my face and was shaking and kept repeating that “Mommy needs help. She is fighting the devil across the street in a tunnel.” My sister yelled for my mom and she came into the house and asked me what was wrong and I just kept repeating “Mommy needs help. She is fighting the devil across the street in a tunnel.” My mom kept shaking me and telling me she was right here and to snap out of it. She said I was in that state for about an hour, where I was just staring off into nowhere, and finally I snapped back into reality and acting normal but didn’t remember anything. My mom was convinced I was possessed. Later that night when it was bath time she noticed I had three bad burn marks on my shoulder that she says looked like they were “from the claws of a demon”.
It’s also important to note that my mother was abandoned as a child and adopted and herself has always been spiritual. She has experienced being saved by a guardian angel when she was young and found herself too far away from her rural house at nightfall, and felt impending danger closing in on her. She can’t explain what it was but she knew she was in danger and scared. She closed her eyes and opened them and she was all of a sudden on her front porch which was hundreds of yards away from where she was.
Ok, so the next experience was from my younger brother’s perspective. He is younger by a year and a half and we shared a bedroom and bunk beds until I was 11. I slept on the top bunk and he was on the bottom bunk. Our room was always extremely messy with toys scattered all over the place. One morning about 4am my brother woke up and said he saw mom crouched down cleaning up the toys. He only saw her back and her hair, which was a mix of gray and died blonde. My mother always wore a long light blue flowy nightgown to bed which was easily recognizable. He didn’t think anything of it and went right back to sleep. In the morning when we both woke up the room was spotlessly clean and I asked him how that happened. He explained that he saw mom in there cleaning in the middle of the night. At breakfast we asked her why she cleaned our room, and needless to say she told us she had never been in our room. She went in to look and was amazed at how clean our room was since it was never like that.
Around this time my brother started getting frequent night terrors that would scare the living shit out of me. I’d wake up to him screaming, standing in the corner of the room facing the wall and banging his head off the wall. Sometimes he would be saying “I’m sorry God!” over and over. Sometimes he would be sitting in the middle of the room with his knees to his chest, hands draped around his knees, rocking back and forth saying things that didn’t make sense while balling his eyes out. My dad would come down the long, dark hallway to our room and try and snap him out of it. Sometimes he would slap him hard to see if he could get a reaction but his demeanor wouldn’t change. Eventually my dad said to just leave him be because nothing seemed to snap him out of it, and if you can imagine this was terribly scary as a kid. I’d wake up in a living nightmare scared out of my mind having to watch him do this for sometimes an hour straight until he would climb back in bed and fall asleep. I remember one particularly scary episode when I woke up and he was sitting on the dresser Indian style, with his back to the mirror, covering his eyes and crying, just saying “Noooo, I won’t, you can’t make me look!” I would try talking to him and sometimes he would respond but with simple answers. I grabbed him by the hand and told him we should go get some water. He got off the dresser and followed me to the bathroom, but refused to go in. I went in and turned the faucet on so he could drink out of it, but he didn’t want to go in the bathroom because of the mirror above the sink. I finally pushed him and he looked at himself in the mirror and let out the loudest blood curdling scream and was so frightened at his reflection that he passed out. This continued for years and would happen probably once every 2 or 3 months and always in the wee hours of the morning.
When I finally moved out of that room down the long hallway to the big bedroom around age 11, it was almost more scary waking up down there, alone, hearing my brother’s fits down the hall. A few more important details about this house that you’ll need to know is that the electrical and plumbing systems were very old and never updated. As a result many lights would never work including the most important one for me as a child, the light in the long dark hallway outside my room, which connected to my brother’s room, sister’s room, and the only bathroom which was straight down the hallway. When my brother was having his fits, I’d open the door and reach my hand out to flick the light switch on but it would rarely work. If I wanted to go check on him I’d have to run down the hallway in the pitch dark feeling the walls to get to his room. This was the worse! So many times I’d just be too scared and would stay in my room with my light on.
Now, the old plumbing and piping in the house meant that when you turned on a faucet, not only would it sometimes be a rusty red colored water for a few seconds coming out, which would then turn into clear normal looking water, but there was a distinct whistle sound when it came out, which intensified with the stronger the stream. Many times I’d wake up down the hallway hearing the whistle and the water on full blast in the bathroom. I’d have to sprint down the pitch dark hallway to flick on the bathroom light and shut off the faucet. Imagine that dread for a second. Not only do you have to sprint down the hallway toward the scary noise in the dark, but you think that anything could be in that bathroom when you flick the light on. Then I’d have to sprint down the hall again to my room. The worse part is after I would shut it off and get back to sleep, I’d wake up an hour later to the faucet on again. This happened intermittently for years. My dad always said it was just my brother doing it to scare me but he always denied it. This would be a pretty elaborate hoax to pull for so many years.
The last thing I want to preface before getting into the terrifying Ouija night, although I have a few more stories I can tell if people are interested, regards one of my girlfriends in my adult years. I was dating a beautiful Venezuelan woman with long black hair. We dated for about a year before I learned of her childhood in Venezuela where she gained local notoriety as an incredibly powerful medium. Some days she claimed as many as 30 ghosts would be trying to communicate through her. It got so bad that her mother had to take her to Zimbabwe to a witch doctor who was renowned for being able to reverse or suppress the powers that mediums have when it gets too overwhelming for them. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, but when I met her mother she told me the whole thing and she cried while telling it. My girlfriend also showed me the scars on her ankles, knees, and wrists (tiny little slits that I never noticed before) where the witch doctor cut her to drain some blood for the ceremony. How did this topic of her being a medium come up? We were staying at a friends house for his annual party where we play drinking games, hit up his pool, do a bonfire, and then go gambling on horses. Everyone stayed in the house but my girlfriend and I brought my new tent and blow up mattress and stayed in his backyard. It was pretty rural area, and his backyard adjoined to a big cornfield. In the morning we were pillow talking and I thought she was just trying to scare me when she said “Did you hear the little girl outside the tent last night?” I played along and said yeah that was creepy right? She said that she circled around the tent a few times and then ran into the cornfield. The whole day I didn’t think anything of it because I thought we were just playfully trying to scare each other in the morning. Later that night I told my friend Mark who owns the house that my girlfriend said she heard a little girl hanging around our tent. His face went white and he said “Wait a minute, how the fuck do you know about the little girl? Are you serious?” and I said “What are YOU talking about?”. There’s some urban myth story on his street that a little girl who went missing decades ago in the cornfields sometimes comes out of them at night and he always thought it was bullshit. This is when I asked my girlfriend if she was serious and did she actually hear a little girl and that’s when she came clean with the whole medium backstory. She said after Zimbabwe her powers weren’t as strong but she would still get periodic ghosts that would try and talk to her. After I corroborated her crazy childhood medium story with her mom, I brought her to my dad’s house where I grew up so she could meet my dad, and she could only stay in the house for a few minutes before she had to leave. She said the dread she felt in there was the most overwhelming sense of dread she had ever had in her life and she never wanted to return.
OK, so to the Ouija board night.
My brother is now 20 years old and I’m 22. My mom lives in a house in our small city’s downtown area and my brother spends a lot of his time there because she lets him drink and smoke weed there. He had been there with his girlfriend playing the Ouija board all night when I got there after a night drinking with friends. The door was locked and I knocked. He came flying down the stairs and swooshed open the curtain to see me standing there. He had the literal look on his face like he had just seen a ghost. I’ve never seen him this scared. He just tells me to come inside and I wouldn’t believe what was going on. He says he and his girlfriend have been playing the Ouija board and they have this very strong, evil spirit who calls himself AZ that has been talking to him all night. He’s AZ because he encompasses everything and is omnipresent, apparently. He said AZ has been spelling out “K-I-L-L-M-O-M” and saying evil things about her all night. She was sleeping in the room next door through it all. AZ was very sexual and vulgar. My brother said that he had knocked down a crucifix off the wall and opened and closed the bathroom door just a few minutes before I got there. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up because I believed my brother and I felt dread, but I didn’t have proof that I saw with my own eyes. I watched them playing and the planchette was whipping around the board answering questions quickly. AZ fixated on me and started by spelling out “B-R-O-T-H-E-R”. My brother asked if he wanted to talk to me and AZ said NO. He asked if he liked me, and AZ said NO. I then asked my brother to tell him that I don’t believe him and I need a sign. AZ spelled out D-I-E. He then asked if he was going to hurt me and AZ said NO and then spelled out “M-O-M”. At that point I went into my moms room to make sure she was ok and she was. When I was in her room I stubbed my toe and tripped a little bit. I came back out to the living room and told Dan that mom was ok. My brother commanded him to leave my mother alone. He said that I wanted to see a sign. AZ then spelled out T-R-I-P. I started to feel a little wave of energy come over me as I was thinking “Did he just see me trip?” My brother asked him what he means by T-R-I-P and I told him that I just stubbed my toe in moms room. Then I said, asked him if he could hear me and I started addressing him myself. AZ said he could hear me. I said if I write down a word on a piece of paper would he be able to see it and spell it. He said MAYBE. I asked if he would do it. He said NO. So I started to verbally abuse him a little bit, calling him a coward, and a pussy, and that if he really wanted us to know he was real he would do it. The planchette started to fly around the board without stopping anywhere but eventually spelled out S-H-O-R-T. I asked if it wanted me to write short words and it replied YES. I went to the far other side of the apartment with a piece of paper and a pen and I wrote down S-E-A. I came back and my brother asked him if he saw what I wrote and to spell it. The planchette slowly circled around the board and landed on S. Then it slowly went to E and my heart raced and I almost started crying from emotion. Then it landed on X. My brother asked me if I wrote down SEX and I said no and I started to shake. My brother cursed at AZ calling him a pervert and telling him to quit playing around. The planchette promptly went to S-E-A and I said “Oh my fucking God” and then the planchette slid off the board with a pretty strong force and my moms cat came running out of my moms room to the living room jumped on the couch and scrambled across it then crawled under the table. It was terrified of something. I have goosebumps every time I recount this. When my brother got AZ back on the board I proceeded to keep playing the spelling game, next with O-C-E-A-N then C-R-E-A-M and then 3 or 4 more words and each time I would go to a different room and make sure no one could see what I wrote except for me and I’d fold it up and put it in my pocket. Each time I came back to the living room AZ spelled out the words with ease and faster and faster. I left the house, told my brother to be safe, and went to my friends house up the road because there’s no way in hell I’d be going back to my dad’s that night.
I can’t really explain the feeling you get when you know without a doubt they are real other than you are just overwhelmed with every emotion at the same time. Make no mistake about it folks, they do, without a doubt, exist.