This comment will be doomed to the greys, but here I go anyways.

AMAZING! It worked! THANK YOU!! :)

I used to work in a very remote town, while living in my hometown 30 miles away. I was 20 and my Dad had just secured me my very first car to make the commute, it was a mid 1990’s Thunderbird with oxidizing paint, leaked every fluid I put into it, and had shitty gas mileage. Needless to say I was in love.

GHOST CAT!!!!

This reminded me of something. I try not to think about it, because it happened so recently. My dad died in March of this year, his final arrangements were a huge disaster with his ex wife from like 40 years ago, suddenly deciding that she wanted to run the show, did not follow this man wishes, buried him the middle…

Gaaaaaaah.

FINALLY!!! I have been waiting all year for this!! Here is my story.

I have a very gentle ghost story. I volunteer at the Merchant’s House Museum in the East Village. It’s known as the most haunted house in NYC and weird things happen there all the time. I truly adore the other volunteers and the museum itself—it’s the city’s only original brownstone and has all of the contents of the…

Alright, I’m late, but I’ll share a couple of mine that actually have to do with the same house:

I’ ve always been weary of the supernatural, anxious to find a reason behind the phenomenon, if only to keep myself from getting too scared. I have no logical explanation for what happens in my house. When we moved in, my oldest was 2. His bedroom closet has a small door in the back leading to the attic. My husband…

Not mine, but here’s an old family story that comes by way of my late Great-Grandmother, a hardy rural Yugoslavian woman if there ever was one.

Poaching two stories from people I know:

About 4 years ago, my boyfriend and I moved into a duplex just outside the city. The first day I was all alone in the house, I started thinking that I was seeing things out of the corner of my eye. Flashes of lights and shadows. I never ever had that sensation at my old place. It happens from time to time, but not…

My parents live in the house where my grandmother’s good friend lived until the day she died. (Peacefully, of old age-type stuff).

A half mile back from the road, down a dirt driveway, past an open field and an acre of sugar maples at the top of a small rise sat my grandparents’ old farmhouse. About ten feet back from the back wall of the house, diagonal to the big crab apple tree was a massive grove of overgrown lilac bushes. They were so big…

God bless the ART TEAM