Omgg this reminds me of a post back in 2019 with a very similar occurence! I am replicating the entire post here. This is not my story...I unfortunately cannot find the name of the person who posted this. Anyway, here goes -

The Night Mares of Waterford Castle

Warning: domestic violence

I moved to Mexico City a few years ago, and in my second year found an apartment I loved in an old neighborhood. It was tiny and full of light and just perfect for me!

Shortly after moving in, I realized there was a ghost in the house. Things happened - the lens on my blue sunglasses going…

Not too scary per se, but I was a little kid at the time of this and didn’t really get scared at all around the time. Shoot -I used to make my way to the outhouse at night if I needed to, even though the house I lived in was in a small opening in the middle of rolling wooded hills.

This is an old story, my grandfather’s story, about a hundred years old. It’s a very short one, but it’s all about the power of love.

This is what I love about these stories (when they’re good)---they develop new fears for me to obsess over.

Another one that proves truth is scarier than fiction...

Posted this to a different website a couple of years ago but deleted that account, figured I’d add to all the tales here that I’ve enjoyed reading. Anyway, here’s the story:

When I was a kid, in the summers my family would visit my grandfather’s cabin, located in a remote area in the woods in northern New England. The nearest neighbor at that time was about 5 miles down the road. The cabin was just yards from a lake ideal for fishing and boating, and I suppose you could say that the area…

People always share really heartwarming ghost stories in this contest. This isn’t that exactly, but I hope it’s the prelude to someone else’s heartwarming ghost story.

My grandparents bought the house my mom grew up in sometime in the late 1950s. I don’t think it was built much earlier than that, but the previous owner was an elderly woman who died in the house. I don’t know anything else about her except for the fact that she loved the color red. The exterior of the house itself…

Warning – Domestic Violence

I just shared another story about a ghost ‘boop,’ but I’ve had a lot of weird crap happen so here goes another!

This description of the town may be the scariest story I’ve read.

I can! It’s a small village just outside cottage country, in an agrarian community. The kind of place with Thanksgiving hay rides, a dog sledding festival, and an opiate epidemic.

My childhood dog Heather had three litters, and we kept one from the final litter, Brenna. Mother and daughter. Heather and Brenna. Shelties. Absolutely the sweetest dogs on earth. Then mom passed away. I was gutted, obviously. Cancer. I had found the lumps on her and gave her a bit longer, but time waits for no one.…

I grew up, until I was about eight, in a nice friendly little working-class neighborhood in the west. It was a new development built on top of a former patch of farm land but close enough to a bigger city that further development was inevitable and expected.

A few years ago, I had a great job: It was my first office job, and it was in my field of study. I got along great with all my colleagues, we had a lot of fun together, and I learned so much working there.

My great-grandmother lived in the same house for over 70 years, from when she got married in 1922 until she had a stroke in the 1999. It was one house over from my grandparents’ house, and I spent most of our visits to see them going from one house to the other.

More mischief than scary. A decade ago or so, I was in a summer exchange program in Central Europe. The course I took culminated in one vicious exam, and leaving early post-exam since I completed it fast. (I actually studied, whereas half the class was hungover from the wine tour the night before). Needless to say, I w…