I come from a Hispanic family who believes in the paranormal and everything else that accompanies it. This Christmas break I asked for family and friends to exchange stories with me in hopes share some of them on here. I have stories from my family and close family friends but I’ll first start with a few of my own. For privacy, most names and locations will be changed.
Two of my earliest experiences occurred in our old house on bright, summer days. We lived directly behind my nana, and by directly, I mean our backyards literally touched. Being less than 100 yards away from my nana meant my parents had the opportunity to leave us home alone for short periods of times. I was 11 at the time, my sister 14, and since I was young and still scared to sleep on my own I often slept with her in her queen bed to much of her dismay.
Since she was kind enough to let me sleep with her, that often meant I was stuck with making the bed every morning. On this morning I had slept in later than my sister and was getting out of bed while she left to go eat breakfast at nana’s. For having such a large bed and two other furniture pieces, the room was rather small and left very little open space. There was, however, a large enough space between the bed and the wall for me to wiggle into in order to tuck the bed sheets in on that side in. I was also boxed in by the dresser and the other wall so the only way to get in and out of that spot was to carefully do some gymnastic-esque tricks as to not touch the made bed.
I had just hopped into this space and was rushing to make the bed so I get a tortilla or two in my stomach when I looked up and found myself face to face with a man. He was standing at the side of the bed near the head board and was motionlessly staring at me. He wore a large, black floppy looking hat on his head that covered the top half of his face with a long, torn trench coat on his body. He looked wet, as if he had just stepped out of the rain. The scowl on his face deepened as he stared at me, my hands stilled, half buried between the bed and foot board. His presence felt angry and I could feel my heart slamming in my chest with fright. I made the quick decision of jumping over the bed and running out the door. I didn’t stop running until I got to my nanas and refused to go back home by myself. That was the first and last time I ever saw that man in the house and although I asked my father and mother about the history of the house we never did figure out who he was or why he was there.
Similarly, I had nearly the same experience in the same spot in my sister’s room. I was making the bed again, something I have now determined I should avoid altogether, when I looked up to see a woman with her two children laying on the bed. Her children I guessed were around the ages of two and four and flanked her on both sides while she hugged them tightly to her. Her face was blank, her eyes boring into mine with a sadness I had never seen before. Unlike the man, I didn’t feel her presence was evil and didn’t feel the need to run as far as I could. I simply slowly slipped out of the space and never saw her or her children again. My last experience in the house was with a younger girl. It was midday and the window in my room was mostly covered with large bushes that obstructed majority of the sunlight from getting into the room. I was cleaning all of the Barbie’s off of the floor when I had stood up and come face to face with a young girl around my age. She stood near my bed in an ankle length, white nightgown and white bonnet. She seemed to glow against the contrasting dark of my room but her face was completely covered making it hard for me to see. Like the mothers, her presence wasn’t frightening as much as it was surprising. Her face remained this way the next few times I saw her. She would be there as I passed by my room to get to my sister’s room and she was always in the same spot next to my bed.
I told my sister and family about her, giving her the name Elizabeth since I talked about her so much. As many older sisters are, she didn’t put much thought into what I was seeing and typically wrote it off as my imagination. It wasn’t until one night when I was sleeping with my sister when she really began to believe me. It was in the middle of the night when my sister woke up to my mumbling. I was sitting up in the bed and was talking animatedly to the air. “What are you doing?” She asked me, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Talking to Elizabeth.” I responded, my head slowly turning towards my sister although my eyes were closed. She told me to go back to sleep and slowly pushed me back down to the bed. I woke up the next morning with no recollection of what happened the night before.
The last few stories I am going to tell aren’t my story but my aunts and cousins that are similar to those of mine.
When my aunt was around my age she lived with her boyfriend at the time. They had just finished college and lived in a small trailer home that was out on a backroad with woods all around. For work, her boyfriend was often away at night leaving my aunt alone for hours. Out there, all noises are amplified since the area was so quiet which made things creepier than usual.
They owned a pool table that they kept in the spare bedroom at the end of the house, a room they kept closed since it wasn’t used often. My aunt told us of nights when she would be sitting on the couch and would hear the clinking of the pool balls in the room as if someone were playing. When she looked, the noises would stop but the balls would be in a different array than they left them. Doors and cabinets would open and close on their own, as well as the washer and dryer. And although she was freaked out she never left the house until one particular night. On that night, she was alone and was sitting in her bedroom which was at the end of the house. She had the door open and could hear clear footsteps of someone who sounded agitated, walking back and forth in the space of the hallway on the other end of the house. She didn’t look at who or what it was and instead packed an overnight bag and left to a friend’s house. They soon moved out of the house due to all the experiences she was having.
My family and I had a fish fry at my aunt’s new house two weekends ago to celebrate good Friday. Since we were all outside, my sister went into the house to use the restroom and refill her cup. The way the kitchen is set up, there is a doorway that allows you to see through to the front door. After my sister filled her cup up, she turned to replace the bottle back into the refrigerator, looking out towards the front door and saw a dark figure standing in the corner. She stood there stunned for some time before my cousin and I walked in to find her. My aunt came out and saw us huddled in the kitchen in which we relayed the story to her. She broke down, telling us things had been happening in her house recently, doors closing, the baby’s toys turning on even though they weren’t plugged into the wall. She would see figured and hear odd noises throughout the house even though it was a fairly newly built house.
My aunt believes it is a close friend whom killed themselves a year ago after struggling for years with mental health issues, watching over her and her daughter.
I have another aunt (she was recently married into the family) who says she’s sensitive to the supernatural and has seen things in my aunt’s house but I have yet to talk to her about them.
This last story is one that has always made my hair stand on end and wonder just exactly who or what is with you. My cousin is a bigger selfie taker and this was before the iphone was a norm so she owned an old flip phone. She was taking pictures one day in her room alone with the curtains covering her windows so no outside light was filtering in. She took a bunch of photos and flipped the phone back over to look through them. There was one photo in particular that caught her eye. She was taking up most of the space, but in the back and clear as day was a man’s face, angry and red. As I said before, she was alone and there was no light to create the face.
She showed her parents and the rest of the immediate family the picture and we all agreed there was clearly a face there. Her parents looked into the history of the house and found the man that lived there before them had committed suicide. He did it in my cousin’s room.
I’m not sure if my family is more susceptible or sensitive to the paranormal but I can assure you guys none of these stories are made up. I have more stories if you guys want to hear more about the Salazar family and our paranormal experiences.
Until next time.
Submitted April 27, 2017 at 07:41AM by griseldaraven http://ift.tt/2q8oFoh nosleep
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