I wanted to include a section on my website where I could share with readers stuff from fellow readers.

Your thoughts and opinions interest me and every now and then, I'm going to prompt you about things that take up a lot of space
in my mind and let you share your feelings and insight about them here. So don't be shy, tell me and others what you think.

Have a ghost story? Send me an email and tell me! Most haunting experiences are what I'm covering but keep in mind, I'll post
whatever it is that haunts you!
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I'm not sure that this would be considered a haunting experience but after 30 years this image has stayed with me.

When I was around the age age of 8 I was walking past the old Pen in Columbus with my mother and sisters. I looked up to one of the guard towers and saw
a man standing there. I told my mom to look because there was supposed to be no one on the property at the time due to it being closed. She did look and
asked what it was she was supposed to be seeing. I asked her if she could see the guy standing in the tower now waving at us. She nor my sisters saw the
guy. To this day they swear they never saw anyone up there. I still can't understand why I was able to see him and they couldn't.

- Maggie
I had a wonderful toy American Eskimo dog named Tasha. She always had to be in same room I was in. Two doors in our house would close but not tightly,
just a little push and they would open. She would alway use her nose to push them open just enough to get in. I had her for about 9 years when she got very ill
and I had to have her put to sleep.

For about two weeks after having her put down I could feel her presence. The doors would open to just the right width to let her in. At first I thought it was just
coincidence, sometimes if you stepped in the right spot the doors would open. I would close whichever door had opened and a few minutes later it would
open up again. I tested the doors to try and duplicate what was happening, but they always opened half way, I could never make them open to just the right
size. When I stopped feeling her presence in the house is when the doors opening by themselves stopped. I buried her in the woods at my mom's house.
There are trails in the woods big enough for a golf cart. About a month after burying her I was taking my son for a golf cart ride through the woods and out of
the corner of my eye I swear I could see her running along the side of us. I remember being filled with an incredible happiness, like she was thanking me, she
was pain free and able to run and frolic like a puppy again.

- Amanda :)
The Butterfly Lady

When I was younger, my mother would take me on her "trips": Be it for a weddings, training seminar, or funerals. I remember one time a beloved member of
our church had passed away.

Mother and I showed up at the church for the funeral and took our seats. I remember getting this hot and cold feeling. Followed by what felt like my scalp
being massaged or my hair standing on end, but I knew it was not. I remember FEELING light, not warmth persay, but light eminating from me. In my minds
eye I saw butterflies. Followed by a woman's face. She was talking to me, but I did not HEAR her words, I felt them. I was still listening to her when my mother
nudged me. It was like I "snapped" out of a trance. She said we were going to the gravesite to pay our respects.

On the short trip to the grave, I asked her who this person was and how we knew her, and if I had met her. She replied the "motherly" way: explaining every
little detail without answer one question.

At the grave site I remember stareing at a woman's picture. The same woman who was talking to me in the church. I remember looking from the picture to
certain people in the crowd. I KNEW them, but I had never met them. And with one in particular. . . I was supposed to give something to. I had known her from
church, Kathy, her family used to hold services in their home on occasion. I remember feeling hot and cold again, then the gravesite service was over.

As my mother and I were getting back into the car, I asked her when I would see Kathy next. Mom said we were going to her house for the reception. I told her
I was supposed to give her something, but I hadn't found it yet.

(This would be about the third or fourth time I get compulsions to DO things.) I started looking through the car and found it. It was a Beanie Baby Butterfly. Mom
didn't know it was in the car, nor did she remember buying it. I held it and said, "This needs to go to Kathy. I am also supposed to tell her something."

Mom glanced at me sideways, "Oh?" I nodded. We arrived at the reception and mom circulated as usual, while I kept near by, keeping Kathy in sight. I
wanted to get her alone.

There were a few times I was hurt in the past for "giving into" my FEELINGS.

Mom caught me watching Kathy and asked why not just got and tell her. I remember saying, "I am scared she won't believe me."

My own mother escorted me to Kathy who was surrounded by friends and reletives. . . and our priest. Mom leaned closer to Kathy and said, "Sarah has
something she wants to tell you." Kathy stared right at me. But then I started to feel that "light". I dropped my voice to offer myself some privacy. I handed her
the butterfly and said, "She wanted you to have this and to know she's happy." Kathy's eyes started to tear and she gripped the butterfly as if it would
dissapear if her knuckels weren't white from holding it. She stared at me and asked, "How do you know?" I told her about what I FELT and "saw" in the
church. Mom interupted by saying, "This isn't the first time it's happened. It's real."

I looked from my mother to my priest, back to Mom. Then looked into the eyes of people around us. Kathy stood up, took me by the hand, and led me toward
the kitchen (which was where the door was, where I thought I was going to be asked to leave ~ which has happened before). She made a sharp right after the
fridge. She and I were standing in front of a door. She puts her hand on the knob and says, "I believe you." And turns it.

It was her sister's bedroom, filled with butterflys. Tied from bookshelves or from the fan's string, butterfly wallpaper, and jewerly on her night stand were
butterflys in a butterfly shaped dish as well. Kathy hugs me and starts crying.

I start to feel hot and cold again, but no "light". My own head is telling me to get out of there.

Kathy looks down at me and says, "I thought my sister died lonely and sad. Thank you for being here to tell me she is happy." She hugs me again, this time I
hug her back.

We walk out; I try to go fast to get to mom to ask if we can leave. I wanted to leave before people start asking questions ~ I really DON'T like being the center
of attention.

I find Mom talking to the group we had left, telling them of other times this had happened to me. It was a rather funny sight, if I was not in such a hurry to get out
of there. Mother was in the center, like a master storyteller as all of these grown-ups were seated or standing around her. She may as well have been telling
ghost stories at camp by the way everyone was holding their breaths as she "went on".

I saw no way of getting to her, so I spun to go to the bathroom.

Where after a little time I emerged to find Kathy re-telling what I had said and her fear of her sister's heavy heart upon death.

I made a beeline for the kitchen door. Thankfully Mom saw me and followed after a bit.

I asked if we could leave, she said we should say "goodbye". But I REALLY didn't want to go back inside. She gave me the keys and she went to do the
social thing.

I share this story, not any of the others for what my mother told me on the ride home. You asked what "haunts" us. For each time I was shunned, asked to
leave, and even never talked to again by friends ~ I am haunted by the LOVE my mother's words gave me that day. When she got into the car, she asked,
"Why didn't you want to say goodbye?"

"I didn't want people to ask we stupid questions. I did what I felt I had to, and I don't want them asking alot of questions about spirits, or the afterlife, or hearing
about someone else's expierence with ghosts. And you didn't help. I wanted to talk to Kathy alone, not infront of everyone. Let alone Father Ashman."

"But it was something she needed to hear."

"How do you figure?"

"Think about it, how was Kathy before you told her. Sad, hurt, and. . "

"Well her sister DID just die."

"Irriguardless, instead of this being a very sad day for her, YOU made this a day that will lighten her spirit and her heart until she sees her sister again. You
took her hurting heart and filled it with love and relief."

I sat silent. My eyes had started watering.


~This is a true story. Kathy, My mother, and my priest will sometimes still tell it (Kathy mostly). I was 13. . .14? years old. And this was the 5th time I "heard" or
felt spirits.

- Sarah Evans
My most haunting experience wasnt a scary one, just a bit unsettling. Two years ago, I was house-sitting for my cousin's family while they went on a cruise. It
was the first time I'd been to their "new" home, although the house itself had been originally built as a one or two room cabin before the civil war. It's now much
larger and very beautiful.

Some of the history of the house is that the wife of a slave-owner had been caught having an affair with one of the slaves. He was killed and she was thrown
down the well and left to drown, supposedly her body is still there, but no one wanted to tear up the new porch to look for it.

A later owner, known as Miss Onie, fell down the cellar stairs and died. My cousin's husband claims to have seen her walking across the bedroom.

I stayed in the house alone for a week. I never saw anything, but this house was NEVER silent. While sitting in the living room at night, I heard heavy footsteps
directly over my head, in the youngest daughter's bedroom. It sounded like boots on a hardwood floor...but all the upstairs floors are carpeted.

During the day, the house whispered. Since it was July, I usually spent most of the day out side or on the sun porch, reading or painting, but every time I was
inside the house, I could hear whispering. It was never loud enough to make out what was being said. It was almost like hearing someone in the next room,
trying to keep a secret from me. If I stopped what I was doing and looked toward the sound, it quit. But it started up again when I turned away. It always came
from the oldest 2 rooms in the house. After a couple of days, I only noticed if I DIDNT hear it. I think even the dogs could hear it as sometimes they all just
stared at the same spot at the same time. But since they never seemed afraid, I figured I was ok too.

When my cousins moved in, they had quite a few experiences...

seeing a woman's feet in a pair of red shoes standing on the stairs...no body, just feet

the lady who walks across the bedroom at night (personally I think she's trying to get to that fantastic new master bath)

a woman was seen looking down from a second floor window, in the same room I had heard the boot-steps

children laughing and playing in the daughter's bedroom. Joe even got up in the middle of the night, went upstair with the intention of telling Ruthie to knock it
off, but when he opened her door, the room went silent and Ruthie was sound asleep

Pots and pans rocking on top of the stove, and not a drop of the contents spilling out.

I'm glad I only had the whispers and the foot-steps.

Have a great turkey day!

- Pattye
Most haunting experience ever............

I hate to be a party pooper but if you truely belive in the existance of "ghosts" then you shouldn't read any futher.
___________________________________________________________
!!Warning - Warning - unbeleiver rantings below - Warning!!
-----------------------------------------------------------
!!..................YOU WERE WARNED.....................!!

Wish I had a story to tell you but it will probably never happen. IMHO - Souls that return or have never left this plane of existence to torture the living depend
on the those they haunt to believe that they can resist the order of nature. Mans ability to lend credence to this phenomenon is purely a hold over from more a
primitive instinct to fear things in the dark and give meaning to his inability or sometimes unwillingness to explain "hauntings" rationally or logically. There is
also a major acceptance by most people that want to believe that there is/are other planes of existence, even with the lack of any real or imaginary proof.
This once again pays homage to mans primitive need to give meaning to their short and often mondane lives. It is very similar to the witch hunts of europe in
the 1500's. If a person is acused of being a witch and can not prove they were not witch, then they MUST be a witch. These trails and excutions depended on
the masses to belive in the irrational and illogical teachings of thier religious leaders. Even though there is not a organized effort to pervey the existance of
ghosts and gouls there will always be the acceptance that there are/will be the existance of the essence of those that have past that can somehow reach out
from the ethereal. By thier reasoning, if you can't prove they don't exist, then they must exist because that is they belive to be true, reguardless of any rational
or logical reason.

I mean say this the most aimable tone possible, in the sprit of friendly discussion. No Malice intended.

- Trev
I was spending the night at my girlfriends house in Alaska. The house she lived in used to be a boarding house back in the early days. She didnt warn me
that anything could happen. I woke up around 3 am to get a drink. As I was walking downstairs, I had that sense that someone was behind me..I looked up
and there was a man dressed in very old-fashioned clothing with red hair and a goatee and moustache. I thought maybe someone was playing a trick..until
he raised a knife. I ran as fast as I could downstairs. When I got to the bottom, he disappeared. But sitting on the couch was a young woman in an
old-fashioned dress and bonnet. She was crying. I asked if she was ok, but got no response. Suddenly, he reappeared, ran over and stabbed her to
death,and they both disappeared. I ran upstairs and woke up my friend.She said it happened quite frequently and that all they got from local stories is that
they were married and she was trying to leave him.He stopped her obviously. I never stayed there again.

- MySpace friend
Silencing Sarah looks like it's going to be a good one - looking forward to it...what haunts me - not seeing justice in a system where we are supposed to
punished for doing something wrong...

on a "rant" tonight with the news media as we search for justice in a system that seems not to want to protect our children:

I have just finished posting a blog about safety on my Fox2 Blog space and am reading many follow up reports about Megan Meier in Dardenne Prairie who
committed suicide over a MySpace Account she had and the parent's who want justice for her death. Although a very sad story, at what point do we
distinguish between victims? Not saying that this poor child and her family weren't victims of many things - mean, hateful adults and neighbors who "tricked"
her with a MySpace Account but how often are we telling our children "life online is not reality" - there is even a country song to that effect "I'm so much better
online"… There are many risks we take while we are online - even when we play it safe….at some point we have to be responsible for our own choices and
behavior…
While I agree these adults were, shall we say, a bit perverted, twisted or downright weird to do what they did, a law they did not break, nor could one even
consider what they did immoral. (it is also very irresponsible to try someone in the media without the full reason for the child's death including the fact that
anti-depressants cause and increase in suicide especially among this group - sold them for 18 years I know. And their personal information shouldn't be all
over the blog for harassment) Impersonating others happens every day on the internet (especially on social accounts). Poor Megan was misled to believe
she had a boyfriend, and was so distraught when he turned against her? That happens every day in real life even before/without the internet, and should not
be blamed entirely for this tragic suicide.

It's just unbelievable we're letting her parents try to deflect responsibility for something that should have been in their court. The child was depressed, had
ADD, a history of unstability, a child at a new school trying to make new friends and was 13 ( a tough age by all accounts). Agreed - a very, very sad story
and senseless loss that will never be explained because Megan's true feelings "left with her". Although her family is in our prayer and the loss sickens me,
why is it that a story such as this is played so highly in the media. There was not crime. A death occurred at the hands of a child who had trouble dealing with
those disastrous teen age years (my 13 year old godson died the same way 2 years ago - we will never get over the loss due to rejection by his father but
did the father actually "hang him"…sadly, no one can be blamed as much as we want "justice") I don't want to sound callous or inappropriate but my child has
ADD and is medicated. She didn't have depression until recently. We are in counseling weekly and it scares me to death when she writes her counselor that
she'd rather be dead. My point, if 1 out of 4 women will be affected by rape in their lifetime and that is according to statistics (ones where only 1 in 10 report
the case of rape) why do we not do more to deter this crime against woman and children? Why must so many parents of abused children not see justice?
Why as I participate in support groups, are there so many perpetrators who are not prosecuted? Why do we allow this to be an acceptable crime in our
society? Why do we punish those who steal cars more than we do a majority of our child molesters? Many times, our systems puts these children back into
the homes of the perpetrator because they are dads, grandfathers, brothers and uncles. Many times, we don't want to believe the words of our children as
they suffer so we cause them to suffer in silence - eventually turning to anorexia, self-mutilation, and yes, even suicide. But these children have direct
abusers, people we can point a finger at and say - This person did this to me! The system let me down….

Why do we find it so hard to say "this is not acceptable behavior and there will be consequences and punishment?". But if someone impersonates someone
else online and a child gets upset over bullying - which is devastating but we all dealt with it at one point in our lives on the playground, in school or at work -
then it is a major news event with a ton of uproar and people voicing their opinion on both sides for "something / anything" to be done? If this crime
(rape/molestation) occurs at the hands of a stranger, (remember that's only 20% of the cases!),then it is news and we want to prosecute and do all we can to
bring justice for the accuser.
Where is our sense of justice for the thousands who are actually victimized? Why aren't fingers being pointed there? Because of the nature of the crime? Too
embarrassing? Or we think, "he's an upstanding guy, he just wouldn't do something like that?" Since our minds can't comprehend this act (but we can identify
with bullying) then we want to ignore that it happened or that it can and does happen on a daily basis?

Do you know how many mothers (and fathers) are out there suffering because they couldn't "protect" their children from an attack and most of the time (80%
of the cases) the attackers are known to us - many loved very, very much and that is what makes this whole event so much more difficult. We now have
victims who will never trust again or will many times become perpetrators themselves? How do we make our children and society healthy in this regard if we
don't "break the cycle" now? Where is the justice for OUR children??!! The PTSD suffered from this isn't only one that affects the victim but becomes a "family
disease" as we ask ourselves "what if…why didn't I…where was I…how could you/he/she?" and many other hurtful questions that we will never have an answer
for.
Like the Meier family, only time will help us heal the wounds inflicted upon us but unlike the Meier family, we know where we can point a finger for fault !! Why
not improve the laws we have and control what we can? After working with mothers across the country, we need to be doing a better job of this as Americans
(not just Missourians). It is a very frustrating system for many when the young voices are ignored!

I spoke with our victim advocate again today and still nothing (8 months after disclosure and police reports - it is all very, very frustrating…. That is what haunts
me...hurt children...

- Kimberly Elliott, CEO, MBA,PhD,Certified Rape, Agression,Defense (RAD) Trainer
Executive Defense Technology, LLC.
www.execdeftech.com / www.travel4victimsofcrime.org
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One of my personal experiences with the paranormal involves a friend of mine that I love dearly. Though I've never met him, I find him to be very sweet;
we've talked for 2-3 years now over the phone and online. In fact, he's one of my top 4 friends listed on Myspace. He resides in Indiana while I live in New
York.

The other night he was out with a friend and was injured. At the time he was hurt I froze here in New York, started to shake all over. I just knew somehow that
he'd been hurt, I called him right away and left a message for him for please call me as soon as possible. When he phoned me the next day, he informed me
that he had been trying to help someone who was dizzy and when the young woman passed out, he lost his balance and fell into the lock on a sliding glass
door, cutting his face.

I still wonder, and probably always will wonder, how it is that I picked up on his injury.

- Lee Devlin
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Let's see, when I was in 5th grade my class went on an overnight field trip to Angel Island in the San Fransico Bay area. We dressed and acted like Civil War
soldiers and that night we did a "night march" to the top of the highest point on the Island.

We passed by an old school house. It was still in good condition and we were allowed to go close to it and look inside. I was the last to take a look in one of
the windows and, for the life of me I still can't understand how I saw what I saw. I saw a teacher and children in that building and they so entranced me I did not
realize that my class was going on without me. One of my friends had to come back and get me.

I can tell you that it was the most awesome thing to see that night in March and the memory still kind of mesmerizes me.

- Ashley
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Hey girl,

I have one on my blogs called "When a spirits pays you a visit..." It has pictures and all and is a very true story. My sister captured the spirit on the T.V. You
can see him as plain as day.

If you want to use it, feel free... and if anyone who really knows about the supernatural and is an expert in the field can give some advice.. we would be glad to
have it. She sees ghosts all the time and now her son says "HI" and waves to no one... he is 2 years old.

Check it out..

- April

www.aprilmreign.com

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So that my then husband and I could take care of his ailing father, the two of us moved into a basement apartment in his house about a year after we were
married. He passed away shortly after we'd moved in so we settled in for a period of time to help my mother-in-law adjust to the change in her life.

My husband and I happened to be home alone on a particular Sunday due to the death of a relative on my husband's side. He was working on some
electronic gadget and I was playing with our cat, just relaxing. All of a sudden someone started to whistle a tune which I recognized, but to this day cannot
remember. Afterwords I said to him that he'd done a very good job of whistling the song. He said he didn't whistle and thought it was me! We're convinced
that it was his father because no one else was at home that day until later on that night and my father-in-law had been known to be a good whistler. Other
strange things happened after his death such as unexplained noises, foot steps, running water in pipes when no one had turned on the faucet, etc.

I never could explain it but I always felt his presence in the house.

- Teresa
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