eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781456730888 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2011 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 48 |
| File size: | 404 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
My True Ghostly Experiences
By Denise Hey
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Denise HeyAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4567-3098-7
Chapter One
Childhood Memories
It all started when I was seven, at the home I grew up in. It was not the house itself that looked scary to me—just the things that started to happen there. It was midmorning, and the sun was bright. My mom was in the kitchen that day, and I headed to the cellar to get a board game to play. Strangely, the light was not on when I was heading down the stairs. I froze—I saw ghosts! Several of them flowed back and forth. I ran up the stairs and out the door and saw my neighbor and friend, Jackie, playing. Jackie was only six at the time. I told him to come and see what I saw. We ran back into the house opened the cellar door. He saw what I saw! He screamed and ran out, but I just stood there, fascinated by them. I was shocked but also amazed, and this was the start of many more ghostly experiences to come.
Fast-forward to a year later. It was summer; like any other kid, I was outside playing in the backyard with my neighbor. My mom had run out to the store, which meant no one else was home. The piano in our living room started to play. It was not playing a happy tune, but a dreadful song (Chopin's "Funeral March"). My friend and I were in shock; we stood there, looking at each other. I was not afraid and proceeded to run into the house, only to realize that no one was home. There was no one at the piano—it stopped playing when I ran up the stairs. My friend came in after the song stopped. I told him no one was home. I double-checked the whole house.
There did come a time when I started to feel frightened in my own house. I felt like I needed to have the lights on in every room I entered. One night, I was awake, lying in bed, with my bedroom door open. A dim, glowing light from my nightlight lit up my room just enough so that I was able to sleep comfortably. Despite the fact that the light made me feel relaxed every night, on this night I could not fall asleep; it was as if I had a bad feeling from within. I was creeped out and scared and had an eerie feeling—I knew it was only a matter of time before another experience would occur. I peered into the dark hallway, and a misty, glowing light appeared. The light revealed a man almost seven feet tall. He wore a long black-hooded coat that seemed to drape flawlessly over his skeleton-body and down to the floor. In his right hand, he held what seemed to be a long, thick wooden cane; it had an arched blade that came to a point. I was unable to see his face, as it was hidden by the oversized hood. We both seemed frozen in time. I lay frozen in my bed, looking at him, and he stood looking at me. I did not say a word about it to anyone but my friend Jackie. He was already frightened by the ghostly experiences I had described to him and by the ones we had experienced together. My last ghostly encounter drew the final line that kept him from ever wanting to set foot in my house again. From that point on, we would play either in his house or out in the yard.
I thought my first experience with the Grim Reaper would be my first and only, but this was not true. For the following seven days in a row, he appeared to me, wearing the same clothes, holding the same wooden cane with the arched blade, at the same time every night. It just so happened that throughout my experiences—including the piano playing on its own and the seven nighttime visits from the Grim Reaper—my grandmother was in the hospital. Little by little, I started to piece the puzzle together and realized she was going to pass away sooner than later.
Visiting my grandmother at the hospital, I no longer hoped she would survive, even though everyone around me did. I sat in the empty waiting room on what was a dreary day, peering out the window, recalling all the great memories I had of my grandmother. In her basement stood an old black sewing machine, on which she had made me personalized doll clothes. A good-luck symbol, a horseshoe, hung on the wall right above her head. As my adult teeth grew in, she used to remove my old teeth with a handkerchief as I leaned back in a chair. She enjoyed her huge garden, working in it for hours at a time. She also had a favorite rocking chair in her enormous kitchen, in which she enjoyed sitting and looking out the window. After recalling these memories, I began to cry; young children were not given visitation rights, and inside I knew she was not going to be able to say her final goodbye to me.
A few days after the hospital visit, I was drained, so I decided to lie down in my bed. As I was about to go to sleep for the night, I began to feel goose bumps all over my body. Then a blast of cold air startled me fully awake. My eyes opened wide in confusion, only to see an apparition slowly approaching me. It was Grandma—it had to be, because I was able to make out every detail from her waist up. She had white hair, and her face was half skeleton and half normal. She wore a blue dress (a dress she would wear only at her own wake). She drew closer and closer until she was hovering over my bed, just close enough to reach out and touch me with her ice-cold skeleton hands. What seemed to be an hour-long visit from Grandma ended in a blink of an eye. From that moment on, I knew that was her final goodbye.
Chapter Two
Union County, New Jersey—Adult Memories
Fast-forward a few years. I was now twenty-three years old and married. We moved into a Colonial house built in the 1940s. My first ghostly experience at this house happened during the afternoon on a day when I was home alone. The upstairs hallway light switched on, and, as soon as that happened, I walked upstairs to see if anyone was there. Once I checked the upstairs and realized that no one else could have done it, I shut the light back off and continued to watch TV on the couch. Not even five minutes later, the dining-room light switched on. Once again, I got up and switched it back off.
The following day, I went to the library to look up the history of our new house and the property it resided on. I found out that the land had once been a farm. As I was walking home from the library, I met a man who had to be in his nineties. Asking me how I was doing, I explained to him where I was coming from and what I was researching. To my surprise, he invited me to sit down, and started telling me about the original owner of the farm. He mentioned that the owner had been married but had never had children because he couldn't stand them. After his wife passed away, he sold the farm to a developer. Our conversation was short but very informative. His stories sparked my interest so much that I wanted to pay the old man another visit to find out more information. A few days later, I walked back to the man's house, only to find out that it was for sale. I confronted his next-door neighbor and was informed that the man had passed away. My plan of linking a person to the ghost playing games with the lights in my house was not going to happen.
Eventually I had my first surviving child, Jason, whom I would leave in his playpen to play. One day, I brought the laundry basket downstairs, and I began to feel really creepy. I dropped the basket of laundry, ran upstairs, and would not go back down; I felt as if someone had been staring at me. That evening, I kept all the lights on, just for peace of mind. But when I sat down on the couch, I heard the cellar door open and slam shut. I ran to do the door to see if anyone was there, and no one was; all the windows were closed, and there was nothing that would cause the door to open and shut. That night, all the lights stayed on. I lay awake, frightened of what might happen next.
A month later, I decided to take a weeklong vacation to California. A few days into my vacation, I had a dream about my grandpa. It was a realistic dream of us having a conversation. That morning, I woke up with an eerie feeling. I called my mom to ask if Grandpa had passed away, and he had, that night. Our vacation was cut short so I could be with my family. I mentioned to my mom about my dream, but she doubted me. She did not understand that certain people are able see ghosts and receive messages from dreams.
Both my grandma and grandpa were very influential in my life, which is why I believe they came to me in my dreams or in spirit the nights they passed. I remember the days when Grandpa would make homemade wine that he would store in huge barrels in the garage. The family and all the neighbors would gather together to pick cherries from the cherry tree in our yard, which he would use to make the wine. There was also a special time when he would wake me up at four in the morning to go fishing. We would walk down to the ocean, each with our own fishing pole, and spend hours together, fishing. He was always good at catching lots of fish, which would end up being our supper for the evening. These memories will never be forgotten.
Over the next six years, I had two more children. One day, I had family over for a big birthday barbeque for my two younger sons, since their birthdays are very close together. When I went into the house to grab the food from the refrigerator, I looked straight ahead to the entrance to the dining room and saw what appeared to be a young man around twenty years old, floating and staring at me. I saw everything except his feet. He had light brown hair styled in a crew cut and hazel eyes, and he wore a short-sleeved checkered shirt with black pants. He did not utter a word, but a huge smile lit up his face. After he smiled at me, he vanished. I thought back to my first pregnancy, which did not go well. My son was born premature, only three pounds, and at that time, the doctors could not save him. He survived for only eight hours. I had a feeling that the ghost was the son I had lost. He also looked exactly like my youngest son, Tyler—a spitting image. That was the first and last time I ever saw him. I have never mentioned this to anyone; it was a very emotional experience, something that still makes me cry today as I retell this story.
As my kids grew older, I warned them about the Ouija board game and how it could potentially invite bad spirits into the house. Lo and behold, however, my oldest son was fascinated with the idea of trying it out. The same evening that he used the board, the kids and I were sitting on the couch when we all heard footsteps coming from upstairs—though we knew there was no one else in the house. A week passed, and nothing else happened. But one night, after I put the kids to bed and left the hallway light on and our bedroom doors open, I could not sleep; I had another eerie feeling. So I headed downstairs to distract myself by knitting. The whole house was extremely quiet, and the couch I was sitting on began to shake, as if someone did not want me to sit there. Needless to say, I did not want to stay on the couch, so I got up and went to my room just to lie in bed. I had an urge in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. So I got up and left the door cracked open. As I was going to the bathroom, I heard a child's voice right outside the door saying, "Mommy, are you there?" The child repeated this a few times. Thinking it was one of my young children, I went to their bedroom to see what he wanted, but they were sound asleep.
One fall night, I tucked my kids into bed early, and, like every other night, I went downstairs to relax on the couch. As I started to read a book, I heard two loud knocks on the wall, which sounded as if they were coming from inside the wall. I decided to check outside to see if something was making that noise, but no one and nothing were near the house. I then wanted to see if I would get a response if I knocked back—and I did.
Another few months passed, and the holidays came and went quickly. One evening, I went to bed, and I was snuggling under the blanket with my eyes still open and alert. All of a sudden, a black human figure appeared in front of my bed, but I was unable to distinguish any details of this person. So I froze and closed my eyes, hoping he would disappear. I reopened my eyes shortly after, because I started to feel my blanket being pulled off of me and felt heavy breathing, as if the ghost was looking right into my eyes. All I was able to see at this point in time was his arm, which moved the covers completely off my body and onto the floor. I was wearing only a knee-length T-shirt, and this ghost proceeded to lift it up to my waist. Then he disappeared. This experience really scared me, and as I thought about it, I began to put two and two together. I remembered the story the old man down the street had told me about the farmer who had owned the land. The farmer had been quite the ladies' man, and even though he was married, he cheated on his wife with many different women. I had a feeling that it was he who had visited me that night.
Chapter Three
New Life / New Marriage
I lived in Union County with my family and my first husband for twenty years. My new life started off with my new husband, John, who never believed that I could see spirits and other such things. We moved into our first house together right outside of Atlantic City. It was a ranch house that had a huge golf course in the backyard. I purchased a kitten for my husband and brought it home to surprise him, because he loves cats. That evening, I sat on the couch with the cat on my lap, watching TV. His toys were scattered around on the floor, including a jingling ball that was located down the hallway. All of a sudden, the cat woke up from a deep sleep and looked down the hallway. Shortly after this, I heard and saw the ball rolling down the hallway toward the couch in the living room. The end of the hallway was pitch black, but as the ball rolled closer to us, I was able to see it by the dim light that lit up the area around me. Once the ball had stopped by my feet, I heard a young lady whispering in my ear, "Kitty, kitty."
Later that evening, around 11:00 p.m., my husband came home from work and went about his normal routine. He ended up sitting right next to me on the couch, and I never mentioned a word about the experience I had just had. Suddenly, on the white wall we saw a silhouette of a woman from the early 1900s. She was floating just a few inches above the floor. She wore a skirt that reached high on her midriff and flowed past her ankles, along with a lacy white button-down blouse with puffy sleeves and an undershirt that covered up her whole neck. She wore her hair up in a tight bun. She floated along the wall and then disappeared.
This was my husband's first ghostly experience! The following day, we did research on our town. The golf course in our backyard was built in the 1920s. We found a photo of a handful of women holding golf clubs, and I recognized her right away. She had her hair in a bun and was wearing the same clothes that I had seen! I was unable to get a copy of the picture, because it was in a locked glass case, being preserved. Another night, my husband was working late, and I was sound asleep. I would soon be awakened by the same woman whispering "Kitty, kitty" in my ear, along with "Sorry for waking you."
After only a year, we decided to put the house up for sale as it was too big for just the two of us and rent a house nearby in town. I invited a friend over for a few glasses of wine and some pizza, which we ordered. Right after I placed the order, we sat back down to continue drinking, and we both heard what sounded like heavy wet boots slowly walking up the front wooden steps. We looked at each other, amazed at how fast the pizza man had gotten there. I went to open the door and saw no one there, only wet boot marks on the ground, which ended at the top of my stairs. There were no footprints leading away from the house, either.
A year soon passed, and our lease was up for renewal. My husband and I decided to move to another rental a block away from the ocean while we decided where we wanted to buy our next home. It was fall, and a bad storm was on its way. The whole beach was soon covered by water and debris that was kicked up and brought ashore by the horrible storm. One specific kind of debris came from a 1700s ship that had crashed not too far from shore. Like many other people, we picked up pieces of the wooden ship to bring home. We stored the pieces on the floor in the extra bedroom. Early that evening, we were sitting down to watch TV when we heard what sounded like a huge ship bell ringing three times—it was coming from the extra bedroom. My husband went back to the bedroom, opened the door, and saw a young, clean-shaven fisherman wearing a cap and a pea coat. The spirit disappeared, floating out the window. He must have been the man who rang the distress bell on the ship as it sank.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from My True Ghostly Experiences by Denise Hey Copyright © 2011 by Denise Hey. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.