View Full Version : Weird To Share

08-29-2007, 11:24 PM
ETA: Canceled due to lack of interest.

08-29-2007, 11:24 PM
Kids and ghosts just seem to attract each other. Vance and I were always together. This night there was most of the group; Sharon and Dawn, and Jesse...the funniest guy I’ve ever met. We cruised. That was what life was for. There were always adventures to cruise toward. Searching for aliens, solving mysteries. Now that I look back, I wonder where the talking Great Dane was.

Nothing to do. The restaurant had put a bottom in our bottomless cup. You can only drink so much coffee before they look into the browns of your eyes and see you are just costing them money. We hopped in the old Plymouth; top down and the heat high and drove on to Main Street where everyone with nothing to do was looking for everyone else with nothing to do.

Still nothing; as was usual. Until we bumped into Larry, one of those talk-to-friends but not a hang-out-friend. He told us about “the glowing tombstone.” I’d been kicking around those parts for a few years off and on and I knew about the Black Cross, the haunted mansion, the headless guy that I could never find; heck, we even had a Lost Road. But I had never heard about a glowing tombstone.

Mystery. Key spooky music.

In Pennsylvania, towns were small and close. We had to drive through three of them to get to the graveyard in question, but only about half an hour. I drove up and down in front of the fence looking for the tell tale glimmer we had just heard of. I shut off the lights and turned off the 8track. Sharon was sort of my girl and she scooted close to me. I could see the anticipation in her oversize eyes. She had that grin of hers that said she was excited but a little scared. Dawn was hanging on Vance, though they weren’t a couple. Vance didn’t mind.

Jess mentioned something about Night of the Living Dead, but he had a way that everything out of his mouth was funny. We laughed and tensions eased a minute but about that time I saw the grave. It was true. I slammed the brakes and reversed to that one place that the stone was visible through all the others. My sudden change in direction and stop jarred them all into the back of their seats.

I’m no stranger to graveyards at night but there was something about sitting there looking at that far off glow. It was all the world like a Halloween prop; green like the glow-in-the-dark skull I used to carry in my car. In it’s brightness you could see it was a tombstone; cliché in its shape. There were mewls from the girls, like the sound of surprise just before you scream, but no one did. We sat in the car looking at the mysterious light. No sound.

Usually when you visit a spook site you find nothing special. The fun is in the anticipation of finding something. It’s the sound of your own heartbeat and the weird energy you generate. There we were with honest to god visual evidence of a true phenomenon. I parked the car to the side and walked to that place of the sighting. Vance came up with the girls and Jess. I looked at Vance. He looked at me. There was that unsaid comment “I’ll go if you go,” and we stepped into the graveyard.

As we huddled close Sharon held the sleeve of my coat in a death grip. It was a straight line of sight and we followed it, occasionally stumbling over a short stone in the dark. As we got closer the grave dimmed. When we arrived it was just a stone in the night.

We read the name that was chiseled into the polished granite hoping it was tied to a murder or some old-family legend. It was just a name. Not that I recall it. After a period of speculation we all walked back to the car, looking over our shoulders as the light intensified.

We visited that grave on other occasions as many did. You heard talk now and then and even an odd comment like “Don’t go there. Its evil,” and then some made up story about who died and who disappeared. But in all the talk I never heard anyone mention that new mercury vapor light on the farm across the street. I know I wasn’t the only one to solve it. But maybe like me, they just didn’t want to spoil the mystery.

08-30-2007, 12:02 AM
Well, there really isn't any mystery connected to my story, but it certainly fits 'weird.'

When I was a teen, me and my man-boy and a guy named Charlie used to make regular visits to the old cemetery in Roswell to visit the grave of a guy we didn't know. We just liked his name. I still remember it. Horace Southworth Pratt.

We'd stop at Kroger and pick up one of those little plastic-wrapped bouquets and drive out there, pay our respects and go play in the river nearby.

Man-boy is dead now. I wonder if he got to meet old Horace on the other side? Are they still friends?

08-30-2007, 12:05 AM

keep the spooky music rolling…..

i too am from pennsylvania, towns were small and close. we had to surf for hours before we found the site. i scrolled up and down in the front page looking for the tell tale glimmer we had just heard of. i shut off the lights and turned off the 8track. i clicked on the “forums” button.

night of the living dead, i thought! we laughed and tensions eased a minute but about that time i saw the sign: “aw water cooler.” it was true. i slammed the mouse and reversed but sudden change in direction jarred me into the OP.

now i’m no stranger to graveyards at night but there was something here, a far off glow, like a halloween prop; green like the glow-in-the-dark skull i used to carry in my car. there were mewls from the girls, like the sound of surprise just before you scream, but no one did. we sat looking. no sound.

usually when you visit a site you find nothing special. the fun is in the anticipation of finding something. it’s the sound of your own heartbeat and the weird energy you generate. there we were with honest to god visual evidence of a true phenomenon the aw water cooler!

we visited that site on occasions as many do. you heard talk now and then and even an odd comment like “don’t go there. its evil,” and then some made up story about who died and who disappeared. but in all the talk i never heard anyone…..


umm, the preceding was mostly written by delarege.
and now, i'll wait for him to kick my butt,....

08-30-2007, 12:16 AM
umm, the preceding was mostly written by delarege.
and now, i'll wait for him to kick my butt,....

Would this fall under plagiarism?

Cray, you are weird. Stick around.

08-30-2007, 12:17 AM

Would this fall under plagiarism?

most definitely

08-30-2007, 12:30 AM
where is the thread you're talking about?

08-30-2007, 12:39 AM
where is the thread you're talking about?


This one?

Take Me There (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/showthread.php?t=75322)

That reminds me. I walked up to a Coke employee in a Wal-mart and asked him where the Pepsi was. :D

Weird look.

08-30-2007, 04:05 AM

This one?

Take Me There (http://www.absolutewrite.com/forums/showthread.php?t=75322)

That reminds me. I walked up to a Coke employee in a Wal-mart and asked him where the Pepsi was. :D

Weird look.

Okay, darling, I found it. How long are you going to stay in the dark?

08-30-2007, 04:06 AM
How long are you going to stay in the dark?

Shhhhh. I'm hiding. Scary out there.

08-31-2007, 08:33 PM
There seems to be an overwhelming lack of weird. But fear not, this is only the beginning.

It was fall of 1973. The up and down terrain was a good portion of the area’s charm; the hills and the curves. A heavy fog had infiltrated the Pennsylvania countryside. The whole world was an unpainted canvas, except for the bit my headlights could cut away. Vance and I had been riding since sunset. Going nowhere was acceptable as long as we kept going. Our conversations were typical; girls; our future fortunes; the paranormal. We were on a familiar country road when I decided to turn to an unfamiliar road. Exploration was the whole idea to cruising. Go where you’ve not gone before. It was a gravelly surface that crunched under the tires. The slope degraded not far from the intersection.

We didn’t know how long we had been driving downward, our minds on our conversation, but that we hadn’t gone up occurred to us both at about the same time. We laughed at the oddity, joked of why anyone would want to live in hole. There were no curves, only the long straight of a graveled back road. The expectation of the road’s nadir shut itself out as we went further down. Down. There seemed to be no end. The occasional driveways were gone. No more mailboxes. No more fences. Just down. The fun was falling away and thoughts of eternal doom infiltrated our minds. Where in hell was this road going? The sentiment grew into possibility and then into fear. Hell. That’s exactly where.

Time wasn’t apparent, but that it had been too long hung on our distress. We were being drawn into an ever deepening pit. Drawn as if our wills had been stolen; past an unchanging sameness in the cars lights. Tingles crept up my spine while I tried to imagine what was ahead. “This isn’t going to stop.” The passive tone of my voice couldn’t mask my concern.

“Turn around!” His voice hit my mind like a sharp light splitting the dark. I pressed the breaks too hard and the car slid to a stop. Without a word I cut the wheel and pulled toward the ditch, backed and pulled forward again. The incline seemed exaggerated. We were going in the opposite direction. Up. But I felt trapped. As the long climb continued I was certain we would crest a hill and the road would fall back into that eternal descent. You can’t escape the devil when he holds the tail of your soul.

Then, a post. A fence. A mailbox and a driveway. Up, passed others and finally we sat at a stop sign. Light had begun to filter through the fog. I turned the car toward breakfast; toast and coffee at our favorite all night diner. We talked about our near incarceration in brimstone, wondered. Our curiosity was strong and once our lust for caffeine had been satiated we drove back to the road in the light of day. The fog was gone. The gravel crunched beneath the tires. We drove down, and shortly up again, and again; up and down on a very normal road. The path to hell had vanished with the fog.

09-07-2007, 08:05 AM
Today, doing 70 mph can get you run over by the rest of the pack pushing 85. But in the mid 70s, after they had just dropped the national speed limit to 55 mph, doing 70 could...did get me a lot of tickets.

I was driving a 1968 LTD. Big engine and lots of carburetor. I was cruising the PA turnpike when suddenly my car spit and sputtered and bucked. The speedometer needle dropped from something above 70 to about 55. I worked the car around a bend looking for a pull off, and there on the berm was a series of police cars, radar, interceptors, looking none too friendly.

My car spit and spat past the speed trap and around the next bend where the engine smoothed and I was free to go what ever speed I wanted. I thanked my car. It was a good car. And it looked out for me. :)

Jersey Chick
09-07-2007, 08:32 AM
Ok - weird and kinda creepy, but here goes...

There's this tree out in the middle of a field off one of the backroads in my town that's called the Devil's Tree. It's well over a hundred years old (possibly older, no one seems to really know) and supposedly, runaway slaves were hanged at this tree, along with your average murderers, etc., back in the day.

Now, I've seen this tree - no matter what direction you look at it from, all the branches lean left. You can circle the tree and the branches always go to the left.

It's eerie at night, because it's alone in this field, and we build over everything out here - yet that land has never been developed...

So, the thing is that as kids, we used to dare each other to run up and touch the tree. I'm a weenie, so I never touched the tree. Well, a friend of mine not only touched the tree, but he peed on it.

I swear to God, this is a true story... Tim played soccer in a competitive league and he had a game the next day - he took a regular kick at the ball and broke his leg in two places.

He didn't pee on the Devil's Tree again.

09-07-2007, 09:24 AM
Weird and creepy, and how 'bout true?

My daughter, over a period of a couple years when she was about three to five, complained about the pig reflected in her window. Almost every night she saw it, "See, Daddy, there it is, right there, can't you see it?"

And it talked to her.

Scared the crap outta my wife and me.

09-07-2007, 04:09 PM
Weird and Creepy, Del? Are you sure?

I think I've freaked out enough people around here already. Are you sure you want to hear this?

Maybe a PM.

09-07-2007, 07:59 PM
It was a town in Colorado where all the cities were small...I worked at a cave as a guide to the tourists who wanted to delve into the earth and show the kiddies something different on their vacation. Maybe learn a little something. We had a Lantern Tour there, in the part of the cave that was uncommercialized. Meaning no concrete trails, no handrails and of course no lights. The cave was discovered by George Snider, and his partner screwed him out of all the earnings. He died penniless and bitter. There were dozens of stories the guides would tell about seeing people in old fashioned clothes that didn't work for us...at least in this century. It was a scary place.

I had led the tours for a few months when I started to hear the voices. Someone calling my name in the giftshop when I was sure there was no one there. My friend Erin heard it once so I knew I wasn't crazy. I never thought it would follow me home.

My boyfriend at the time and I had just moved to an apartment in a bad neighborhood. When he was at work he had our only car and I was trapped by myself all day. It started small. Lights I had sworn I'd shut off would be on when I went back into a room. Little objects moved around or missing. And then the crying started.

From the vents in the ceiling, every day, came a horrible sobbing. Not a normal sobbing, but gutwrenching cries of loss and pain. For hours. They would stop just before my boyfriend got home. Finally we reported it and found that the apartment above us was vacant.

The day in question I had cleaned out the last of the packed stuff from the closet and stacked the empty boxes in front of the kitchen. I was hanging out in the armchair reading. The television was off, and with the sunlight streaming in the screen became a perfect mirror showing me, and behind me the doorway to the bedroom, the entryway, the kitchen. I was deep in the book when a voice said clearly and loud "Do not look at the TV". Of course, my eyes flew to the screen. In the reflection I saw the shadowman run his jerky path between the bedroom and the kitchen. A black shape against the white wall, sweeping behind me from the bedroom to the kitchen. I ducked down quick, thinking someone had broken in, but we had an alarm on the door that hadn't gone off. I bolted up and stared into the dead air behind me. The white walls betrayed nothing. But the boxes, more so the FLAPS on the boxes, they were moving. Flapping in the breeze of something that had just run by.

True story. To this day if I'm in any room, especially alone the TV must be on. Oh and guys, that was only the first time I saw him....

09-07-2007, 11:07 PM
This isn't my story. WordGypsy's story reminded me of it. Janie, the woman who told this to me believed it, I could tell.

She comes from a broken family which resulted in a half-sister. She went to visit her dad and his family shortly after they moved into a new house. She, a young adult, had some reservations about her step-mom. Her sister was early teens so the tension wasn't new. Things hit the fan so to speak and her step sister ran upstairs upset. While the discussion raged down stairs a scream emanated from upstairs. The adults ran up to see what was wrong. What they saw was the younger sister being dragged on her belly by her feet, but like an effect in a horror film, no one was pulling her. Janie rushed to grab her sisters hands and was dragged along with her. By the time the dad and mom got a hold of Janie's legs, the little sister had been dragged half way under a chest of drawers. It was a struggle but they got the little girl back.

With all the weird stuff I've witnessed I cannot completely disbelieve a story that anyone claims to be true, but I have never witnessed an obvious netherworld (ghosts, demons, poltergeists) interaction where an entity physically reacted with someone...it goes against my rationalizations, actually. To drag two bodies across a room requires a great deal of force. I've always considered ghosts and such to be an echo of sorts, and not able to apply force. Janie's story is beyond my understanding, and therefore, hard to accept.

If anyone has witnessed a physical phenomenon, like floating chairs, thrown objects or being dragged down the hall...

"...We are ready to believe you!" (Ghostbusters)

Don't be bashful. I'm a writer.

09-07-2007, 11:56 PM
I had a friend that lived in a house that was used on the Underground Railroad. He and his friends used to hear knocks on the wall and the thing, what ever it was, would answer their questions...one knock for yes, two for know....add in a slow version of that "knock three times on the ceiling if you want me" song in a minor cord and it's a pretty freaky scene.

09-18-2007, 07:45 AM
awwww... did i kill it mom?:e2chain:

09-18-2007, 07:23 PM
No. This is weird world. You cannot kill it. It's just there are only three of us on the board that has ever experienced what might be called weird.

I was lying peacefully one night in my apartment. My mind was drifting in the dark, keeping me from sleep. It started very suddenly. A feeling of dread came over me and I found I couldn't move. As I lay there frightened and confused a shape walked to me, stood for a moment as if it were looking down at me. It was undefinable. A shadow. Just as I was expecting some sickle to slice off my head or ominous voice to boom out with the story of my life it left. It turned and walked through the wall. As soon as it was gone I could move again.

My dad had been killed the year before and I had a bit of a notion that it had been him. He used to do the same thing to my mother when he was alive; walk up, think what ever thought he had in his mind and leave. You'd have thought a dad might pass on some profound afterlife wisdom...but he hadn't taught me anything when he was alive so why should I have expected anything different in death.

Honestly, I don't know what it was. But through the years, I have met a few others that claim the same experience.

09-18-2007, 07:47 PM
My brother, Jimmy, was two years old and sitting on the living room floor playing with blocks while my dad sat on the couch reading the newspaper. Suddenly, Jimmy looked up from his blocks with a smile brighter than Christmas morning and was staring with fascination at nothing. At least what appeared to my dad to be nothing. He watched as Jimmy's excited eyes followed something around the room that only Jimmy could see. He then turned to my dad and whispered "Who are those people dancing?"

That was the only time my brother ever saw the dancing people because my dad got a new job and we had to move. The house, though, was about 75 years old. Who knows, maybe they were people who had lived there long ago...

09-18-2007, 08:19 PM
Not so much creepy as it makes you wonder if our loved ones who passed on ARE really watching over us. ;)

My Uncle John died in May 2005 and his favorite grandchild was Lucas – age 2. A week after he passed, Lucas was eating breakfast, looked up, waved and said, “Hi gandpa”. He went back to eating and a few moments later he did the same thing.

My grandmother passed away in 1999. This year my nephew, David, age 3, was sitting at the dining room table, started waving and said, “Hi Nana”. This was what my other nephew and niece called my grandmother and as you can see by the date David wasn’t even born yet.

09-20-2007, 12:21 AM
My grandmother passed away in 1999. This year my nephew, David, age 3, was sitting at the dining room table, started waving and said, “Hi Nana”. This was what my other nephew and niece called my grandmother and as you can see by the date David wasn’t even born yet.

This sounds like David has had at least some history with Nana...if you think about it. I wonder what conversations they have had that you didn't see.

Speaking of seeing things...

I was kicking around with a friend, Harold. Neither of us really had a place to crash that night. We hitchhiked into the boonies where a small house accommodated some others we knew, all of us in our teens. They invited us to stay the night though there wasn't much room.

While Harold slept on the couch I lay awake on the floor. I never did sleep much at night back then, spending the awake time in my thoughts. A black-light illuminated the room with the dull drab colors on all that wasn't florescent. I looked over top of the full length of my body and saw a teenage girl not five feet from me. Her head was turned to stare down at Harold. She wasn't in the house before and no one had come in so I was surprised at her presence. As I looked at her she turned to me. It was as if I startled her. Her face opened in astonishment, eyes wide as they connected with mine. Then she vanished. As I was watching she became increasingly transparent and was gone.

I didn't sleep at all that night. I pondered the vision I'd seen. It interacted. It was there, really there, but why? Hallucination? The whole world could be a hallucination, me being the only living thing here, but I don't believe that and I don't believe she was one either.

Not a ghost. She didn't feel ghostie. She was modern, dressed in sandals, bellbottoms and teeshirt, long sandy hair; like someone I might have seen on the street that day. I never adequately explained it to myself. Perhaps an astral projection? Maybe. That is as likely as any explanation. I don't discount that many of us might, in some form, travel time and distance as we sleep...or for the practiced, while we are awake. It was obvious she didn't expect to be seen, which makes me believe she was there deliberately. I wonder if the blacklight had any significance in her being visible?

It's another of those things that will go unanswered, leaving some to believe and some to doubt.

09-24-2007, 12:04 AM
There are a lot of different kinds of weird in the world. Not all of it is Saturday night movie weird. Like this cave...with a FOR RENT sign...


09-24-2007, 12:56 AM
I was once asleep in my house with a sweater over my face to keep the light out (it was in the early afternoon). My house was empty, except for my mom, who was downstairs doing stuff in the kitchen. I was awoken by someone yanking the sweater off my eyes and touching my face. Before I could react, whatever it was retreated and I heard it knock out something from the shelf to the left of my bed. I opened my eyes and I was alone. Mom was still downstairs because I could hear her. I thought that maybe it had been an odd dream, but when I turned to retrieve the sweater and sleep again, I saw that the alarm clock that had been on the shelf was now on the floor.