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When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it.

They were not


evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night
for me to wake up and hear "whispers" as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they
were just "bumps in the night" and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it
was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people's voices do. On some
nights I would get so scared from these "whispers" that I would sleep in my mom's bed with her. It was
an added bonus that the bathroom was directly outside of her bedroom door for my late-night tinkles.

I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to theI should add at this point that
when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would
lead you into my living room on the first floor (as my mom's bedroom was on the second floor). On one
such night, around Christmas, I awoke and felt the need to relieve myself. I walked out from the door
and distinctly heard the phrase "Look!" and to my astonishment, a red light, almost like a spotlight, was
cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I
was transfixed by it.

Being a little kid, and it only being a Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Christmas, I
KNEW what this light was. IT WAS SANTA!!! How else could he get into my house to know I was being a
good boy? I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the
second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.

That's when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my
father's (not to say he isn't masculine, it was just distinctly different). It said, "Stop! Right now. Go back
up those stairs." I listened, turned around, and what happened next I am not sure I would believe if
someone had told me this same story. After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH
that sent me running back to my mother's bed where I jumped straight under theTHE BLOG

12 Terrifying Ghost Stories You Shouldn't Read Alone

By

Mandatory, Contributor

Putting awesome in your eyeballs all day every day.

Oct. 14, 2015, 04:37 PM EDT | Updated Nov. 8, 2017

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Whether you believe in ghosts or not, it's tough not to get freaked out when you're alone and you hear
something bump in the night or even hear a voice. The stories below will freak you out so it's best to
read these with someone. Preferably a friend and not a stranger you've decided to creep up behind on
the street.

The Cell Phone

A couple of months ago, my friend's cousin (a single mother) bought a new cell phone. After a long day
of work, she came home, placed her phone on the counter, and went watch to TV; her son came to her
and asked if he could play with her new phone. She told him not to call anyone or mess with text
messages, and he agreed.

At around 11:20, she was drowsy, so she decided to tuck her son in and go to bed. She walked to his
room and saw that he wasn't there. She then ran over to her room to find him sleeping on her bed with
the phone in his hand.

Relieved, she picked her phone back up from his hand to inspect it. Browsing through it, she noticed
only minor changes such as a new background, banner, etc., but then she opened up her saved pictures.
She began deleting the pictures he had taken, until only one new picture remained.

When she first saw it, she was in disbelief. It was her son sleeping on her bed, but the picture was taken
by someone else above him... and it showed the left half of an elderly woman's face.

Ghost Bro

My house was built in 1904. It is a single family home, wood frame setting on a concrete block
foundation. I have been living here for about 12 years. Of all the weird things that my siblings and me
have seen or heard in this house this one event is my favorite. This happened to my brother. About ten
years ago my brother and his best friends had started a garage band playing mostly "Spanish rock,"
alternative music but in Spanish. His friends could only get together on Sunday afternoons. They would
practice into the early evening, and they would usually call it quits by 8 pm. This was the time I usually
showed up and went to bed, cause I worked the graveyard shift.

This happened in late fall, so the days were getting shorter, they had just finished a long session when
the decision to head to someone else house came about. My brother handed his car keys to his buddy
so they could load up the equipment. Everyone had filed out of the basement, but the tricky part was
that they needed to walk all the way to the back of the basement, up the back stairs, through the
kitchen doorway, down the hall into the living room and out into the front porch. Everyone was outside
sitting in my brother's truck waiting for him. My brother was walking up the back stairs when he
remembered that he had left his pancakes in a to go container sitting on a speaker in the basement. He
made the decision to go back. Now the basement is not clean, with full sight lines, there had been
partitions made, and the boiler and main heating unit are right smack in the middle. So after my brother
walks back, he is about to retrieve his food container, when out of the corner of his eye he sees it.

It is a shadowy figure, right at his peripheral vision, this feeling of dread and uneasiness washed over my
brother. We had been taught that if you are in the presence of a spirit or ghost and you felt a bad vibe,
to say quick prayer or to cuss at it. My brother chose the latter, he basically just told it "hey fuck you, I
don't have time for this shit".

My brother started to walk to the back of the basement and briskly up the stairs, closing doors and
turning off lights as he was walking out. The last light switch is on the opposite side of the front
door...luckily the door was open and the light from the street lamp was flooding the living room with its
amber light. My brother said he felt something at his back, but at no point did he turn around. As he
flicked the last switch the living room went dark, as did rest of the house. As he stepped out he pulled
on the door closing it behind him, still holding his food container in one hand he jogged down the few
porch steps. He walked towards the front gate...our house resides far from the main street, essentially
having a large front yard but no rear garage. As he closed the gap between himself and his friend-laden
truck he kind of smiled and thought things over in his head, mad at himself for spooking out when there
was no reason.

He climbed into the drivers side of the truck, putting on his seat belt and getting ready to pull out of the
parking spot directly in front of the house, when one of his friends asked " Hey wait what about your
brother, isn't he coming with us?" My brother answered, "What do you mean? He went to work early
tonight, he is already gone, do you see his car anywhere?"
The next question they asked "So then who was walking behind you when you were leaving the house? "

The Rocking Horse

One night, when I was maybe 10-12, I had trouble falling asleep. My bedroom was the entire top floor of
our house with my bed and such being on the left side and storage closets and a play area being on the
right. I was lying in bed when I heard a noise from the other side of the room and see a rocking horse
begin to rock. It was sitting just outside one of the storage closet doors. It proceeded to rock its way
halfway across the room and stopped dead under the ceiling light. At this point I was freaking out and
just buried my head under my blankets and never peeked out again until morning.

It was all confirmed to not be a dream as the rocking horse was still in the middle of my room when I
woke up. Furthermore, I got a stern reprimand from my parents for being up out of bed playing with my
toys well past my bedtime. Their bedroom was directly below the storage closet/play area and had
heard the creaking of the rocking horse shuffling across the room.

The Following

My older sister has a ghost that's followed her around for years.

I lived with her once for about 3 months, and so much weird stuff happened in that time. All my sister
would say to me when I mentioned it was that her ghost "didn't like me being there."

Things like going to bed with everything locked up and switched off and waking up in the morning with
the back door open, lights on and the kettle switched on. One night my sister and I were getting ready to
go out and I'd asked to borrow her liquid foundation. I used it and put it back where she kept her
makeup. Ten minutes later she's asking me for it and it was nowhere to be seen. She accused me of
taking it and made me buy her a new one and refused to listen to my side of the story. About a year or
so later when she was packing to move to a new house, she found the makeup in a shoebox with some
old letters. The shoebox was in a zipped up suitcase that was underneath her bed.

But probably the most scared I ever felt was one afternoon when I was the only one in the house (which
never happened as four other people lived there). I'd arrived home from work and headed straight to
the bathroom. All the doors/windows etc were closed. I was standing in the bathroom and started
squeezing a pimple on my chin when a female voice in the hall said "stop picking your zits!" It was loud
enough and sounded real enough and at the time I thought it was my sister. So I laughed, told her to
"fuck off" and asked what she was doing for dinner. No answer. I stuck my head out into the hall. No one
there. I searched the house top to bottom and there was no one home. I sat out on the front porch until
someone else got home because I didn't want to be in there alone.

Annie96 Is Typing

This is much more of an interactive experience than anything else on the list. As you read through this
WhatsApp conversation you have to manually click enter to make each new message appear. It's as
close to a text-based horror movie you'll find.

The Whispers

This is a story I do not often tell. I promise, sincerely, that this has scarred me for life and although I have
looked into psychological explanations for what I heard and natural explanations for what occurred, they
remain unsatisfactory.

When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it. They were not
evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night
for me to wake up and hear "whispers" as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they
were just "bumps in the night" and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it
was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people's voices do. On some
nights I would get so scared from these "whispers" that I would sleep in my mom's bed with her. It was
an added bonus that the bathroom was directly outside of her bedroom door for my late-night tinkles.
I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly
down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor (as my mom's bedroom was on
the second floor). On one such night, around Christmas, I awoke and felt the need to relieve myself. I
walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase "Look!" and to my astonishment, a red light,
almost like a spotlight, was cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other
source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it.

Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Christmas, I KNEW what this light was. IT WAS
SANTA!!! How else could he get into my house to know I was being a good boy? I was so excited I began
walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off
the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.

That's when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my
father's (not to say he isn't masculine, it was just distinctly different). It said, "Stop! Right now. Go back
up those stairs." I listened, turned around, and what happened next I am not sure I would believe if
someone had told me this same story. After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH
that sent me running back to my mother's bed where I jumped straight under the covers and stayed
there the whole night.

was mortified. After that day I never heard a single voice again. I do not like to imagine what was waiting
downstairs for me that night, if it was anything at all, but I can tell you that the reality was that
something had physically acted upon two things in my house near the bottom of that stairwell.

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