ANDI'm 17 now and I'm probably the only person in my family who believes in the supernatural. My parents and everyone else keep telling me it's bullshit, but I know it's not true. I've had a few experiences in my life and I thought I'd tell you about them.
I'm originally from Sweden and my dad grew up in a village up north. The summerhouse we have there is a bit out in the country and was built sometime between the 1920s and 1930s. My grandparents raised my dad and his brothers there. My grandad died before I was born so I don't remember him, although I was very close to my grandma and was apparently her favourite grandchild, probably because I'm the youngest cousin. She died in 1997 and I remember being really upset about it but because I was youthful I got over it pretty quickly.
A few years later, when I was about 10 or 11, during one of the Easter holidays, when my dad and I were having lunch, something strange happened downstairs in the kitchen. Suddenly, I heard someone laughing and I immediately looked at my dad because we were the only ones in the house and said, “What's so funny?” My dad gave me a strange look and said, “I thought you were the one laughing.” My dad is the type of person who always has a good joke up his sleeve, but there was something about the look on his face that scared me, but we never heard that laugh again, although now that I think about it, I think it was my grandma laughing at us.
The second experience in this house was one summer when I was about 13 or 14. I was in the upstairs attic, which had been converted into a bedroom. I was sitting on my bed drawing. My dad and others were working outside. I was lost in thought, but I snapped out of it when I heard our aged coocoo clock making noises, which is a clock that hadn't worked in decades. It worked for about a minute or two, then stopped. Feeling scared, I ran outside as quick as I could.
Since then I have had a few other experiences from time to time like the TV changing channels by itself, the rocking chairs rocking when they were empty and I would hear footsteps walking up and down and across the rooms when I was alone. I know it is either my grandma or grandpa and that makes me less scared, it is actually comforting that they are around and looking after us.
When I was 13, my dad and I moved to Africa, more precisely to Namibia, where we lived for two and a half years due to his work. We lived in a substantial house, about 300 square meters if I'm not mistaken, and since I came home from school earlier than my dad came home from work, I was often alone between 3:30 and 5:00, because our maid would leave around 3:00. On one of these occasions, I was in the TV area, changing channels, and our dog Mickey was lying on the couch with me, when suddenly he jumped off the couch and started barking aggressively at something in front of him, but there was nothing there. Then he ran downstairs to the front door and started barking again, but after a while he came back to me, but he kept looking back as if something was there.
When I was 15, I moved back to Sweden, but I moved in with my oldest uncle and aunt in a town up north, because my dad was still in Namibia and I didn’t want to live in Stockholm with my mom. The first few months I lived there were normal and I didn’t hear or see anything. But that was about to change. It started one night when my uncle and aunt were having French lessons and I was home alone for about two hours. I was talking on the phone in the living room with a friend when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, into the hallway, through the living room where I was sitting, through the kitchen, and then they disappeared without a trace. Guess how high my heart rate was?
Another thing happened when two of my friends (let's call them Sally and Hannah) were staying with me. We were in the basement because the temperature there was much more pleasant than upstairs. Sally fell asleep quickly, but Hannah and I were still talking. We closed the door and all the windows and made sure we were alone, but apparently we were wrong. At about 11:00 PM I heard someone running upstairs quickly, and a moment later the knives and forks in the kitchen drawers were shaking loudly, and Hannah and I were scared to death. Another time when Hannah was staying with me, we were sleeping upstairs in a room with the door closed, it must have been early in the morning, around 4:00 or 5:00, and we both heard a clamorous door slam, but only once.
Although all of these experiences were terrifying, there is one that beats them all. I have always had a slight fear of the shadowy and would sleep with the lights on. I sleep in the upstairs bedroom and my aunt and uncle have their bedroom downstairs and they always sleep with the door closed. I remember this clearly because I had a bad stomach ache that night so I didn't sleep very well. I woke up around 2:00 or 3:00 a.m. and when I turned around I saw a man by my bed. I was too shocked to be scared and thought I was dreaming but I realized I was wide awake and I remember the man asking me if my stomach hurt. I said yes and he leaned forward and whispered something I couldn't hear and before I knew it he was gone. I have never seen him since and I have never told my aunt and uncle what I saw because they said it was my imagination or that I was dreaming but I knew what I saw. I don't think he means me harm, but I don't understand why my aunt and uncle haven't felt or sensed any of these hauntings before. Am I a supernatural magnet?
Thank you for taking the time to read these messages. If you have any questions or comments, feel free to send them to me by email: jasmine_isaksson [at] warm mail [dot] com and if you have MSN you can add me too.
Thank you once again
Jasmine
