Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Today's Trippy Tid-bit..."Little Girl Lost"



LITTLE GIRL LOST

"I recall an incident that happened 20 years ago to my mother...

 She decided to have a phone installed in her home, as she was a diabetic and wanted to be able to be in close contact with me.

A day or two after having her phone installed, she started receiving very weird phone calls.

She got these calls at night, in the afternoon, and in the morning; sometimes she would get these calls four to five times a day.

The calls were from a little girl who my mother said sounded like she was about four or five years old.

The phone would ring, mother would answer it, and the little girl would say, "Mama! Mama! I want my mama!"

My mother would try to ask her questions, but all the little girl would ever say was, "Mama! Mama! I want my mama!"

This went on for a week, and it freaked my mother out so bad, that she had her phone disconnected and has never had a phone again after that!" - Loretta R. @ "your true tales"

Whoa!
Talk about a long distance call!





I'll bet the charges were out of this world! ;)



Speaking of  freaky phone calls, stay tuned for a segment I'll be doing very soon, called "Phone Calls From The Dead"....it'll make you think twice, next time you say "Hell-o!"




And now, for a video that I found most entertaining!
It truly gave me the heebie jeebies!

Description:
"After hearing numerous reports of ghostly phenomena at a local funeral home such as moving curtains, flickering lights, and silhouettes in the windows, a group of teen boys decide to investigate...
 
They were not prepared for what they saw inside!"
 
Seriously folks...
This video is enough to raise the dead! ;)
 

COOL HUH?!

Well, that's all for today kids, but I'll be back very soon, with more trippy tales of the paranormal!
 
In the meantime...here's a word from our sponsor!
 
 
 
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Monday, March 7, 2011

Today's Trippy Tale..."The Old Brick House"

THE OLD BRICK HOUSE

By fanman_1988 @ "yourghoststories.com"

"I'm from South Georgia and personally, I feel that the south is filled with the paranormal. This story comes from my childhood, and is an experience that I'll never forget...

When I was 12, my brother and I decided to spend the weekend at my grandmother's house. This had been the first time that we ever stayed with her and we were very excited.

On the way there, my dad decided to tell us that we needed to be careful because the house was old, and that strange things happened during the night.

When we asked why, he told us that many years ago, the house had been a funeral home owned by his great-grandfather.

Unphased, we bravely went ahead with our sleepover.

There was only one bed in the house (the one that my grandparents slept in) so we had to sleep in the living room that night.

At about 2 in the morning, I was awoken to a strange sound.

I opened my eyes to see the chandelier swinging back & forth.

I thought it was the wind, but then realized there were no open windows or fans going, so why was it moving? I woke my brother up and he didn't know what it was either. We both had trouble sleeping the rest of the night.

The next night, around the same time, we were awoken by a strange squeaking sound. It appeared to be coming from the hallway and sounded like someone pushing a cart down it.

A few minutes later, we were hit with a strong smell like someone was smoking a cigar. We tried to ignore it and later it went away.

The night after that, my brother woke me up when he swore somebody sat on the couch he was sleeping on.

About an hour later, we heard a strange voice saying that "Children aren't allowed back here!"

We both screamed and ran into our grandparents room, where we stayed for the rest of the night.

I told myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, and that dad just told us that story to freak us out, something that he does often.

But that all changed when a few years later, when I was doing a report on my family in high school, that I found out that what he had said was true...

You see, long ago, my town was split into three communities and instead of bringing someone 30 miles into town by wagon; they had funeral homes in these areas to serve them.

Turns out, my great-great-grandfather owned one of them. It was also revealed that he had died there in the funeral home, from an apparent heart attack.

To this day, I have never spent another night in that house, and I don't spend more than just a few hours inside it when I'm visiting my grandparents!"

I hope you enjoyed today's story!
And now, for a cool video, that I hope you'll like as well!


See ya next time kids!
In the meantime...here's a word from our sponsor!


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Ghosts got'cha down?
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Sunday, March 6, 2011

Tonight's Trippy Tale..."The Pleading Tin Can"

note: This is a copy & paste!
It is NOT my own experience!
(Thank God!)


The Pleading Tin Can



"I debated for weeks, whether to write this or not. But being how it's raked on my soul for years, I might as well tell the tale...

As a child, I was known by my mother, (who was extremely religious) as possessed by demons. The reason she believed this, was due to my ability to see and hear spirits.

I was visited by the previous deceased occupants of every house we ever lived in. (And believe me, there were a lot of them!)

I dont know why I was the way I was, but only recently, have I been able to control it. My sister who had psychic dreams, was looked upon as a sort of prophet...whereas, I was demon possessed.

The only reason I even mention this, is because it goes with my story and I might go into more details about my curse some other day.

Anyway, I grew up in a tiny Texas town where most my family still lives.

My mom and dad were always fighting and almost every evening, mom packed me and my sisters in the car theatening our dad that she was leaving him and going to California.

We would never even get to the outskirts of town, before Mom would steer the car to the river. And there we would park, waiting for dad to go out searching for us...which he never did.

On this one particular hot summer day in 72, us kids (crammed into the car like sardines) started protesting about how hot it was, so mom allowed us to get out of the car but warned us to stay on the gravel bar and not step a toe in the river.

(Mom wasn't only very religious you see, she was also insanely overprotective.)

So my sisters and I piled out of the car like caged wild animals set free and we scattered.

Well, while I was sitting in the car I had noticed a tin can sticking upright out of the gravel bar about a hundred yards from the water and was drawn to it like a magnet once free.

The moment I got to the can, I heard a moan.

I looked all around thinking at first, it was one of my sisters, but then heard "Please help me" and realized it was coming from the tin can!

I guess I was too stupid to be scared, because I squatted down and peered into the can's open top and found that the can was hollow with no bottom that I could tell, and looked like it went down in the gravel for miles.

I could only see darkness and recall I picked up a piece of gravel to drop down in it, to find out how far it went, when I heard the moan again and "Please, I know you're there. Why don't you say anything?"

So, I said something along the lines of "What do you want me to say?" And the female voice responded "Please, get me out of here!"

I still to this day, remember how frantic and frail her voice sounded, and recall how terrified I suddenly felt.

But the next thing I felt, was my mom's hand across my face and my hair being jerked, as she dragged me to the car.

(I guess one of my sisters had disobeyed her and waded in the water and mom called us back to the car.) Only I failed to hear her, and she had to come and get me, which added to the anger she was already feeling because of her fight with dad.

I tried to tell her about the talking can, but that only made her angrier. She started calling me possessed again and quoting scriptures at me all the way home. Once we got home, I got punished even worse.

That night, I couldn't sleep and woke my older sister (the one who had the dreams) and told her exactly what I'd heard that evening.

My sister, who was much wiser than I, didnt say anything for a few seconds...then she told me something that I never forgot...

"Don't say anything to anyone about what you heard ever again! I see and hear things just like you all the time, but I keep them to myself and that's what you need to do too!"

So I never mentioned it again... until now.

On our next visit to the river, the can was gone.

Years later, I wondered if what I thought was a can, might have been a hollow tube instead, that someone buried alive was talking and breathing through...and it rakes at my soul. I think about it often."

Wow...what a tale!
"CAN" ya believe it?!
~Queenie~


See ya next time kids!
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Wednesday, March 2, 2011

"THE LATE NIGHT VISITOR"



"Growing up, my mother always talked about one of the first houses that she, myself, and my dad had lived in...

This particular house was very small. It had a large living room, which was partially open to the small kitchen, and to the left, was the only bedroom it had.

My mom always said that she would hear a child crying. She also would hear a sound, like someone was rolling marbles on the wood floor. Sometimes she would hear the sound of someone dropping a bunch of wood planks... thus, making a loud noise.

At the time, I was no more than 3 maybe 4 years old. I've always had the ability to remember a lot of my growing up years. My family is always amazed at the accuracy of my memory.

I remember having to sleep in my parents rooms on a "Jr." bed, which was my crib mattress, put on a very short bed, with head board and foot board.

One night after going to bed, I heard, a small child giggling right next to my bed, which was located next to my parents bed.

I sat up, and wondered why my parents had not heard it too. My dad was snoring, so I believed they were sound asleep. 

After my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I saw a small girl looking at me with a big smile, on her face. She motioned for me to follow her into the living room. 

My mother always put a night light in the living room or any room next to the room they slept in. (You know, so it would be easier to go to the bathroom in the dark.)

Anyway, as I followed her, I saw that she was fully dressed and her hair was done in two braids with ribbons on the end. 

I remember being confused as to who she was, what she was doing in our home, and wondered, was she lost?

While following her, I caught sight of her face with the night light, and was scared at what I saw. 

This girl had a very strange face! 

It seemed her eyes were slanted, quite large, and located more to the sides of her face. Her nose was very pointed, with a beak end. When she smiled, she had pointy teeth. I almost screamed. I remember thinking she sort of looked like a white owl. 

She then grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen, where she told me we were going to play a game. 

She must have communicated through my mind, because she did not talk with her mouth. She then motioned to me to get under the kitchen table, which had a rather long tablecloth on it.

Once under the table, I was excited because this was one of my favorite places to play. 

She then reached into her skirt pocket and showed me her marbles. They were bigger than a regular marble; I know if you've ever played marbles, you have seen this size marble. 

She started to roll them toward me and she motioned me to roll them back to her. By this time, I was relaxed, and not worried as to who this strange looking girl was.

I was having so much fun, that I started to giggle. She did as well. After about 5 minutes, the kitchen light turned on.

I then saw my fathers' legs and I was about to call out to him, when she touched my arm and put her finger to her mouth telling me to be quiet. 

My dad seemed to be looking for something or someone. He even went out the back door to check. 

After a while, he turned off the kitchen light and I heard him go back to bed, where I heard him talking to my mom. 

The whole time this was happening, I was getting worried that my parents would find out I was not in bed and get upset with me. 

After about 10 minutes, I didn't hear them talking anymore, so I started to get out from under the table, which seemed to anger her that I was leaving. 

All of the sudden, her pointy teeth got bigger and she looked evil! 

Needless to say, I got scared and ran back to my bed. I covered my head, and started to cry.

My mom heard me and asked me what was wrong. 

I told her I got scared, because I saw a mean looking little girl. She then put me in bed with them where I felt safe, and was soon asleep.

The next morning, I remember seeing my mom putting our things in boxes. When I asked what she doing, she told me daddy was going to find us a better place to live. 

We were out of that house in less than two days. We stayed with my grandparents until we could find another house.

Years later, I heard my mother, telling her friends that we had lived in a haunted house; I didn't even know what that meant at the time. I just kept playing.

I heard her tell her friends that my dad never had believed her as to the happenings, until he had heard it for himself.

I then realized mom was talking about the night I had my late night visitor. Mom said that it was the first time she had ever seen my dad with fear in his eyes. 

When he had gone back to bed that night, the first thing he had told her was, "Start packing, because we're moving real soon!"

Fifty one years later, I still remember it, like it was yesterday."

Wow...a creepy "Owl girl"?!
I wonder just "whooooo" (or WHAT) it coulda been?!
Owl Well...
I guess Owl never know! ;)
~Queenie~

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Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Tonight's Trippy Tales..."Evil Approaching" & "The Pleading Tin Can"

Thanks for visiting the playhouse!

I have some great stories for you tonight, but I must apologize for a bit of trouble I'm having with the blogger site. I can't seem to enlarge some of the font, so I hope you're able to read it so small. I also can't change the font style or italics in some areas. It's quite annoying!

The blogger site has been acting weird like that for quite a while now, and I hope they get it fixed soon...In the meantime, I appreciate your patience and understanding.

Now...about the stories...

 The first tale comes from "Serenity" of "your ghost stories" (.com) along with a reply from one of their readers.

Evil Approaching
"When I was first married in 2007, my husband and I lived in a small, 1-bed room flat on the ground floor. This place was not in the slightest bit haunted, and we were very happy there.

However, I did have one strange experience while in bed one night...

It might help if I describe the layout of our little home. There was a large open-plan living room with a tiny kitchen, and a short corridor off that led directly to our bedroom with the bathroom also coming off this corridor. Our bedroom was the only carpeted room in the flat, with the rest being wood laminate.

The night wasn't anything special, but I awoke suddenly from my sleep for no apparent reason. I have no idea what the time was, but it was still pitch dark outside.

As I lay in the darkness, trying to get back to sleep despite being wide awake, I became aware that there was something in the living room...

I instinctively knew that this wasn't a person, and an image formed in my minds eye of a black swirling fog moving about that main room.

I could feel malevolence radiating from it.

Suddenly, it seemed to know that I was aware of it, and the mist developed into a tall reaper-like figure that turned to face the bedroom!

With growing horror, I heard footsteps approaching the bedroom!

The sound changed as it entered the little corridor (as you'd expect them to when moving from a very large room to a more confined space) and at that point, a voice in my head clearly said "shut your eyes!"

The order was given with such urgency, that I complied just as the sound of footsteps moved from the wooden floor of the corridor to the carpeted bedroom.

The sound of the footsteps changed, just as you'd expect it to, when moving from a hard surface to a soft one.

I was so terrified that I hardly dared to breathe, and in my head, I could see an image of a very tall (around 7ft), black robed figure standing beside the bed looking around the room.

It looked like the classic grim reaper but without the scythe or a wraith from Lord of the Rings. I slept with my head very close to the door, so you can imagine my terror that this thing was so close to me!

As suddenly and mysteriously as it arrived, the presence sort of faded away and I gradually felt safe enough to open my eyes again.

My heart was pounding, and there is no way that this was a dream - that evil presence was there, just inches from me!

I guess the main point for dispute, is that I didn't actually see anything with my own eyes - it was all images in my head, apart from hearing those footsteps.

The voice urging me to shut my eyes, was probably just instinct working overtime.

One odd thing, was that I got the impression that if my eyes had been open, and I'd looked directly at the entity, something bad would have happened.

It seemed to be looking around the room, as if it couldn't see me with my eyes shut (I know that sounds really childish!)

I'm afraid the whole experience is basically, pure gut instinct and mental images, but it unnerves me to this day.

So much, that I thought I'd share it and see what others make of it."



Reply from "Happy Spirit":


"Great story!
Here's my theory about why you were guided to close the eyes:

I believe that something within our brain is capable literally of producing light. The pineal gland (in the middle of the forehead) has been proven to contains light sensing cells, same as the retina, and I believe is made to sense and monitor this internal light.

The light production increases in the spiritually developed or even when ordinary folks have a peak experience. Hence the term "enlightened."

If sufficient light is produced it can emanate from the skull and be perceived by sensitive people (as a halo.) The light also comes out our eyes - not enough to see with the naked eye - but a dark spirit would be able to see it.

Serenity, by opening your eyes and looking at the dark mass, it saw you.

By closing your eyes you became invisible again, as the spirit could not perceive the rest of you.

This may also be the reason for the common experience of feeling safe, as children, when we put our heads under the covers.

It wasn't just that we couldn't see the spooks - they couldn't see us."

"The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it."-New American Standard Bible


And now for our second tale...it comes from "Unsolved Mysteries.com" from an author simply called "Someday"...I thought it was a really neat story, and I hope you will too! :)



THE PLEADING TIN CAN



"I debated for weeks whether to write this or not. But being how
it's raked on my soul for years I might as well tell the tale.

 As a child, I was known by my mother (who was extremely religious) as possessed by demons. The reason she believed this, was due to my ability to see and hear spirits.

Every house we ever lived in, I was visited by it's previous deceased occupants.

(And believe me, there were a lot of them!)

Don't know why I was the way I was, but I have only recently have been able to control it.

My sister who had psychic dreams, was looked upon as a sort of prophet... where as. I was demon possessed.

The reason I even mention this, is because it goes with my story and I might go in to more
details about my curse some other day.

Anyway, I grew up in a tiny Texas town where most my family still resides to this day.

My mom and dad were always fighting, and almost every evening, mom packed me and my sisters in the car -threatening our dad that she was leaving him and going to California.

We would never even get to the outskirts of town before Mom would steer the car to the river, and there we would park waiting for dad to go out searching for us...which he never did.

On this one particular hot summer day in 72, us kids (crammed in to the car like
sardines) started protesting about how hot it was, so mom allowed us to get out
of the car, but warned us to stay on the gravel bar and not step a toe in the
river.

Mom wasnt only very religious you see, she was also insanely overprotective.

So me and my sisters piled out of the car like caged wild animals set free and we scattered.

Well, while I was sitting in the car, I had noticed a tin can sticking upright out of the gravel bar about a hundred yards from the water, and was drawn to it like a magnet, once free.

The moment I got to the can, I heard a moan. I looked all around thinking at first, it was one of my sisters, but then heard "Please help me" and realized it was coming from the tin
can.

I guess I was too stupid to be scared, because I squatted down and peered
into the cans open top and found that the can was hollow with no bottom that I
could tell and looked like it went down in the gravel for miles.

I could only see darkness and recall I picked up a piece of gravel to drop down in it to find
out how far it went, when I heard the moan again, and "Please, I know you're there.
Why dont you say anything?"

So, I asked something along the lines of "What do you want me to say?" And the female voice responded "Please, get me out of here!"

I still to this day, remember how franic and frail her voice sounded and recall how
terrified I suddenly felt.

But the next thing I felt, was my mom's hand across my face and my hair being jerked as she dragged me to the car.

Guess one of my sisters disobeyed her and waded in the water and mom called us back to the car.



Only I failed to hear her, and she had to come and get me -which only added to the
anger she was already feeling because of her fight with dad.

I tried to tell her about the talking can, but that only made her madder. She started calling me "possessed" again, and quoting scriptures at me all the way home. And once we got
home, I got punished even worse.

That night, I couldn't sleep and woke my older sister who had the dreams, and told her exactly what I heard.

My sister who was much wiser than I was, didn't say anything for a few seconds. Then she told me something I never forgot...

"Don't say anything to anyone about what you heard ever again. I see and hear things just like you all the time, but I keep them to myself and thats what you need to do too."

So, I never mentioned it again until today.


Our next visit to the river, the can was gone, but years later, I wondered if what I thought was a can, might have instead been a hollow tube that someone buried alive was talking and breathing through... and it rakes at my soul."

Stay tuned for more trippy tales...




~Queenie~