I don’t yet understand how the television shows can go ahead and document the paranormal, yet one persons personal experience is immediately disregarded as a product of a mental illness. People can label me as crazy, but more than a few times in my life I’ve seen things that make me believe quite strongly in things that are, for whatever reason, unseen or overlooked by most. I’m speaking of things, happenings if you will, that defy any scientific explanation and are not of the worldly dimension in which we live.
As a child, I saw ghosts, or at least I have a series of memories in which I think I may have witnessed ghostly apparations, though it has been my experience that children almost always see at least a handful of ghosts during childhood.
After moving out of my house in New York City with my parents at age 8, my experiences seeing ghosts seemed to subside for quite awhile. It wasn’t until about 6 years ago that my belief in ghosts and the paranormal would finally be confirmed; this time what I saw was also witnessed by others who were there and had seen the same thing I did.
In the first few months that Angie and I were together, we were staying at my parents house in my old bedroom. At one point we were all standing around in my old bedroom (myself, Angie, and my parents) when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bookcase full of books rise into the air. As soon as we stopped talking and looked at it, the bookcase of three fully loaded bookshelves fell from the ceiling onto the floor.
Angie and I agreed it was paranormal activity, my mom had no explamation for it, and my dad (the scientist) explained it away using several scientific theories, none of which ever came close to explain how 100 pounds of books could rise 5 feet off the floor by itself without any visible forces involved. He has yet to provide me with a logical explanation.
Angie and I moved to an adjacent bedroom to try and escape whatever it was that was obviously haunting us. A couple of weeks passed without incident until one night the dog kept looking and barking at something in our room neither of us could see. Then, around 3 in the morning, I awoke to Angie screaming. The blankets and sheet from our bed was on the ceiling and the dog was going crazy. I tried to sit up but something was holding me down. We ran out of the room screaming once again. My father dismissed this happening as a vivid dream, while my mom appeared troubled but wouldn’t tell us why.
Angie and I resorted to sleeping in a tent in the back yard for a little while, weather permitting. We then moved back to New York City a few months later to start our lives together. It wasn’t until recently that our belief in ghosts would b confirmed once more.
Against the advice of Angie and myself, two of our friends (who wish to remain anonymous) decided to visit a local cemetery late at night just to see if they might witness a ghostly happening. When they returned, not only did they have stories to tell, but they also had pictures on a digital camera where one could clearly see ghostly people standing behind head stones.
My advice to them was to leave well enough alone, delete the images, and go on with their lives as if nothing happened. They didn’t. Instead, they got the pictures printed to show their friends. A few weeks later they reported seeing and hearing ghostly activity in their house. Fearing that they may have been right about the pictures they took, they set out to find them, and when they did, they had all turned completely black. What’s more, the digital camera and the memory card they used stopped working the day the pictures were found.
Still, they plan to return and take the pictures over again as if they hadn’t learned a lesson yet. I believe in ghosts and things unseen, and know that it is best to just leave these kinds of things alone.