I’ve finished the Game of Thrones books and emerged from my fiction coma. My life is my own again! To celebrate, here’s a song I really like.
I keep forgetting to internet
HI GUYS. I’ve decided to finally finish reading the Game of Thrones books (I read the first a few years ago, then got stuck on the second because the boredom brought on by Jon Snow’s chapters began to feel like a health risk), so I’ve become trapped in a massive fiction spiral and haven’t been real life-ing it up so much. Nothing else is really going on with me. The weather is finally nice! My brother and sister-in-law spent a fun Mother’s Day weekend with us! I got a new pair of jeans I like! Exciting stuff.
I hope everyone’s good, and sorry if I’ve missed anything important. If anyone wants to talk about what a little shit Theon Greyjoy is, hit me up.
When my dad was younger he was at a party where a bunch of people were using a Ouija board. They were arguing about whether other people were moving it on purpose or not so someone yelled "Prove that this is real!" Every single blind in the house fell down at the same time. And that's the story of why my dad tried to ban us from reading Harry Potter. — elkepancake
I lived in a haunted house once.
We heard rumors but rented it anyway. When asked, the landlord got really offended but admitted that her grandmother did, in fact, die in the home.
We would get off work late at night and sit at the dining room table drinking beers, and door to the sunroom would swing wide open. Not blown open, but deliberately opened slowly and stopped just before it hit the wall behind it.
I had a *ahem* gentleman overnight most weekends and he always wanted to know who was walking up and down the stairs to my room. The footsteps and the creaks in the stairs were very unmistakeable.
We would be watching TV in the front room and she’d be rattling the dishes and silver wear in the sink. One night, it got so annoying, my roommate yelled, “Don’t just play with that shit, wash them!” The dishes stopped rattling.
I don’t know why it never freaked us out. I was never scared living in that house and neither was she. “Grandma” was just part of the rental agreement.
We were pretty poor growing up, so one day, when a coworker of my mother's needed a place to stay, she offered to rent her bedroom out to him. Two days after he moved in, my mom picked me up from school, crying, and I knew something was wrong. He was hit by a car and killed. A week later, my sister had a friend sleep over, and that night I saw a skeletal figure sitting on the couch. I noped the hell out of there. The next day I found out that both my sister and her friend saw it too. — stereoforbrains
Chief Big Hole
The neighborhood my childhood home was built on sacred burial grounds for the Wampanoag Indian tribe. Nineteen bodies were exhumed and moved when they built the long row of raised ranch homes, each on an acre. In the woods out behind us, on the other side of a ten acre alfalfa field, we often dug in the clay pits and found arrowheads and pieces of pottery. One sweltering, muggy day when I was nine, my younger sister and her friend and I walked out there to find some much older boys digging a giant pit in the woods. It was about six or seven feet deep, and nearly that wide in both directions. The boys left to eat lunch and told us to not get into their shit.
The younger girls really wanted to get in the hole, and my sister’s friend Yvonne jumped in before I could grab her. Of course, there was no way for her to then get back out, as it was nearly twice as deep as she was tall. My sister started to cry, and I - ever the girl scout - found a large branch to use as a sort of make-shift ladder. She couldn’t figure out how to get up though, so I had to jump in and hoist her up on the branch, and my sister helped pull her out of the pit. When I tried to leverage myself out with the same branch, it snapped in half, which set my sister crying even harder. She decided to go get our mom and the two girls left me in the pit in the middle of the woods while they ran home crying.
I attempted to make foot holds with my Keds and simply climb the wall, but it was too sandy and just fell away under my step. The tree shadows danced all over the walls around me, and there was a very light breeze, which felt almost like air conditioning so deep in the earth. I sat down and tipped my head back to watch the branches sway. When I looked back at the wall, the transparent form of an Indian chief wearing a full headdress stepped out of it straight towards me, then evaporated before my eyes. My body turned ice cold and I was shaking by the time my mom arrived to pull me out - maybe ten or fifteen minutes later.
I got grounded for letting the little ones so close to such a dangerous hole.
I can still feel how I went from uncomfortably hot to deliciously cool to solid ice.
Tell me a ghost story.
I don’t know, maybe because it’s a gorgeous, sunny day and I’m feeling contrary, but I’m in the mood for creepy stuff. Tell me about anything weird/scary/unexplained that’s happened to you or someone you know, even if it’s just a little thing. I’ve enabled anonymous asks just for the day, but don’t worry, I don’t judge. If I get any good ones, I might post them (I’ll ask first if they aren’t anon).
I’d share stories of my own, but I don’t really have any that I feel comfortable sharing, because they happened to other people who told me in confidence/asked for my help (WHO YA GONNA CALL?).
And because I often get asked about how I feel about this stuff because people know I’m interested in it:
1. I believe there’s a logical explanation for everything.
2. There is literally no amount of money that could convince me to use a Ouija board.
3. I am perfectly comfortable with the amount of sense that makes.