I was at a funeral and as I was leaving, walking through the graveyard, there was a freshly dug grave and the head stone had my name on it… just the name … no date of birth or death. Pretty spooky.
I have a few more paranormal stories I might add later.
Best one yet, holy fuck.
Kind of not really a ghost story but spooky nevertheless.
When I was a little kid of preschool age I used to be found by my Mum chattering away to thin air. I’d be talking, asking questions and what have you, to all intents and purposes it appeared that I was having a conversation with someone as I’d wait for a while and look as though I was listening for a response and off I’d go again babbling to the invisible other.
She put it down to me imagining a playmate, an imaginary friend if you will, as one would. I’d do this all the time. She’d hear me when I was about the house in other rooms and look out into the garden and I’d be talking to no one and gesturing as if I was playing with someone.
Then objects started getting moved around the house. She would put something down and a few minutes later go back and it was no longer there. She’d ask if I’d seen it or moved it and I’d always say, ‘it wasn’t me’. The thing would turn up somewhere else in a random spot in the house. I guess she thought that I was moving stuff around because I thought it was funny or something. She was right. It was me moving things about for a giggle. That was until…
One day my Dad was at home looking after me and his pen went missing from his desk. He’d seen me pick it up at some point that morning but he’d used it since then, had come back to his desk and couldn’t find it. He asked if I had it. I insisted that I hadn’t seen or touched it since he’d seen me pick it up earlier in the day. He looked high and low for it and couldn’t find it.
I don’t remember exactly but I can imagine he was probably getting a bit pissed off and was undoubtedly blaming me for picking it up and wandering off with it. He confronted me again and asked what I’d done with it. I got quite upset by all accounts, repeatedly saying that ‘it wasn’t me’.
He said, ‘well if it wasn’t you, who was it?’
‘It wasn’t me. It was Gocky. Gocky takes things and hides them’.
My Dad’s attitude completely changed. Colour drained from his face.
‘What did you say?’
‘It wasn’t me. It was Gocky. Gocky did it’.
My Mum had come home and walked in as this was going on and was obviously confused. My Dad was, by her account, absolutely freaked out. I was upset. I explained that Dad’s pen had gone missing from his desk and that he thought that I’d taken it but it wasn’t me. She went off to his study and came back with his pen. It was, according to her, just sitting in plain sight on his desk.
That’s a little weird. But what’s weirder and gives us all goosebumps to this day is that my imaginary friend’s name was Gocky, though neither of my parents knew this, and the reason that my Dad was so spooked was, when he was a boy, he too had an imaginary friend who, you guessed it, was also named Gocky. He’d never mentioned it to either me or my Mum and hadn’t thought about it in years until, bam! I threw Gocky’s name out and scared the shit out of him. Spooky,eh?
Fucking hell.
Just started this.
Cool, I’ll give that a listen later as it’s definitely that time of year.
I’ve been saving up some M R James classics for around Christmas. Here’re a few to be going on with…
Love those old ghost stories! Mark Gatiss is doing another this year too: Kit Harington And Mark Gatiss Teaming Up For BBC Christmas Ghost Story Lot No.249
I’ll keep eye out for that. Gatiss’ adaptation of The Tractate Middoth was good as was his Crooked House three-parter, and I’m sure he did a couple of others that are slipping my mind right now, (I’ve been up since 2am and my old brain’s had enough).
I will have told this story on here before years ago…
Christmas morning in a crazy old flat above a shop, I went downstairs to get some water. I poked my head into the living room and shouted upstairs to my wife “Santa’s been” she called back “howdya know” So I shouted “There’s Presents here” and in that instant a DVD flew off the shelf right next to me and landed on the floor 5 feet away from the sideboard. I ran back upstairs giggling like a child.
That flat was odd but always felt nice. I always felt I had people watching me when I was on my own playing my guitar. You could smell cat piss for a few seconds quite regularly and my wife saw a cat twice in there and there is no way it could have gotten in, out etc.
Loved that place but the owners were dicks.
I listen to a fair few paranormal pods I’ve been to the uncanny live show in Liverpool and I’m going again at Blackpool later this year.
I’ve always been a believer. I’ve had too many experiences not to tbh.
There was a little girl who’d occasionally haunt my childhood home, thing is the house never had any vibes or felt haunted it was just a regular end terrace but I saw her on two occasions in my teens, It was only years after we’d moved out I mentioned it to my mum at a family gathering and before I could begin telling my experiences I was interrupted with “Was it the little girl with blonde hair?” Turned out over 20 years of living there she’d seen her on the regular all over the house It was never scary, it was as if she knew she meant no harm. My mum never told me or my brothers as she didn’t want to scare us.
My job fitting meters has me working in all manner of places mostly domestic but I’ll occasionally end up in commercial buildings, factories or farms I’ve worked lots of creepy places.
Worked a job at Walney island in Barrow, it was a regular terrace house to fit an elec meter, it had been gutted and was a building site with no elecs or plumbing in yet, the owner walked me through the hallway past the front room door and the stairs on the left as I’m passing I notice a woman in her late fifties looking down from bedroom door at top landing she smiles at me, I said hello and walked further into the dining room / kitchen area and began working whilst chatting to the owner he was telling me his plans for the place and how hard it was to get trades people in and that he was working on in his own that day putting the kitchen units together That’s when I asked about the woman upstairs, I expected him to say “oh yeah I forgot my wife is helping me today she’s upstairs” but he was like “what woman? I’m here on my own?”
I told him that I wasn’t mental and I definitely saw a woman at the top of the stair and had said hello to her assuming she was his wife, it made sense to him because he wondered why I’d said hello to him a second time when we had entered the property. We both check upstairs and it was empty…
He wished I hadn’t told him and that he’d be looking over his shoulder all the time now. I reassured him that she looked happy and was probably pleased that the place was being fixed up.
I’ve loads of other happenings I’ll post them when I get a minute.
Told you I work in spooky places.
A few years ago I was working at a huge detached house, the elec meter was in the cellar which could only be accessed by a pappalardo style cellar door. It didn’t have any steps though so I had to lower my ladders into a dark abyss and find my way into the opposite side of the house where the supply came in.
Wandering through a small corridor past a warren of rooms a workshop and finally into an adjoining servants kitchen which still had a huge range in an alcove and an assortment of sinks a pantry and meat hooks sticking out of the rafters. I used one to hang my torch from and began my work which was straight forward, now with my job I have to photograph a lot of steps to prove the work has been undertaken correctly (liability)
After an earlier firmware update the camera in my work pad developed a bug in which the front facing camera would open up instead of the rear which meant I’d have to see my mug staring back at me umpteen times a day, pressing the flip button for the rear camera became a reflex action.
So I’m at the final stages of the install, I hold the camera up to take a final photograph of the installation and I press the camera button and automatically press the flip button before I register what I’m seeing.
I see my face illuminated by the screen enveloped in darkness but there also happens be an older gentleman with grey hair stood behind me inquisitively looking over my shoulder. I immediately freak the fuck out and turn around but they’ve vanished, I use the camera to scan the room and even flip the camera back to front facing to see if picks anything up but no, just me and my heart beating out of my throat. I get my final photograph and quickly humph my gear back to the exit.
Felt like such a twat asking the customer if their house might be haunted. They found it amusing and said nothing had ever happened to them, that said they barely ventured into the cellar except for the occasional meter read as they’d floored over the internal stairs for their kitchen extension.
Now we all know how cheap cameras behave in low light, lots of artefacts, lens flare etc it totally could have been my brain filling in the blanks but at that moment I know I saw someone. He looked a bit like Sid James.
