Haunted Too. Dorah L. Williams

felt like someone was trying to push him down the stairs (and succeeded many times). And one particularly scary incident was the time he went into the kitchen to get a snack and a large butcher knife fell (flew?) off a counter on the other side of the room and landed on his foot with enough force that the blade impaled the top of his foot, right through his shoe, and he received a deep cut.

      No one else was ever subjected to any kind of abuse when we lived there. But Stan couldn’t walk into the house without something falling off a wall or flying across the room right at him. It would actually have been fascinating if it wasn’t always so startling and violent.

      After that relationship ended, nothing like that ever happened to anyone else ever again. The ghost treated him (and only him) like that.

      Eastern Canada

      Cottage Life

      We once bought an old cottage that had belonged to an elderly man and woman for about fifty years, but when the husband died, the wife never used it again and so it was vacant for a while before we got it.

      When we purchased the cottage, all the furniture and contents were included, so the only thing about it that changed was the ownership. After listening to some of the nearby neighbours’ stories about the old man who had owned it, it was clear how much he had loved it there. We knew that before he died, he and his wife and their dog had spent a lot of time up there, and their grown children and grandchildren often visited too.

      The first summer we were there we were all playing cards around the kitchen table one night when our oldest daughter jumped about a foot in her chair. She said a medium-sized white dog had just rushed past the table and out the kitchen door into the living room. No one else had noticed anything, but she was so positive of what she had seen, and so flustered, we all got up to search for the strange animal. But we couldn’t find the dog anywhere.

      We might have been inclined to think she had just imagined the whole thing, but a while after that, my husband and I saw this dog too. It suddenly appeared as though it had run right through the cottage wall from the outside. Like it was chasing something or someone at top speed. Then it either just disappeared or went right through another wall back to the outside again. It all happened so fast it was almost just a blur of white. This was more amazing than frightening, though, and I was glad my husband was with me to see it too.

      Our son woke up one night and cried out for us, saying someone was standing near his bed. By the time we got to his room whoever it was had gone, but that left him feeling pretty frightened.

      We also all saw an old man walking around the exterior of the cottage on a number of occasions. A few times we would hurry out of the cottage to see who it was when we saw him looking in at us through one of the windows, but once we got outside there was never a trace of him. It would have been really difficult for someone to run away from that cottage without being seen or heard.

      Once after seeing him outside we heard a knock on the door. This did frighten our daughter a bit, so she called out and asked who it was. He replied that he wanted to talk to her mother, but by the time I opened the door he had again vanished and we never saw him again after that.

      The Mailroom Ghost

      During my first year of college I worked part-time in the residence mailroom on the campus, and being before the days of e-mail, my shifts were very busy sorting all those students’ letters. I hardly had time to look up from the piles of mail I had to distribute into the alphabetically arranged compartments.

      My shifts were usually late at night, and no one else was ever around. The only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the rustling of the envelopes as I sifted through the endless piles. The radio would never work in that area for some reason, and I usually just left it off instead of having to constantly tune it, trying to pick up a signal.

      One night I was working alone as usual, but had a very uncomfortable feeling. This was not normal for me, as I had never been bothered by the solitude of that job before. But on this night I could not shake the feeling I was being watched. Every time I looked up from my work I expected to see someone standing there because the feeling was so strong, I assumed someone was there.

      The radio was not turned on. I had tried to get a station to come in at the start of my shift and had given up and shut it off because I hated the static. As I sat with my back to the open door in the mailroom, trying to resist the urge to constantly turn around, it finally got too strong, and I couldn’t keep myself from turning to look again to see if anyone was there.

      And that time there was. A young man, in his early twenties I would say, was leaning against the doorjamb looking at me as I sat at the desk across the room. I wasn’t sure if he was actually staring at me or just daydreaming in my direction, because it seemed to take a minute before he realized I was looking at him. When our eyes connected it seemed to startle him as much as it did me (maybe even more); and just as I saw him jump a bit, the radio on the desk suddenly turned on. That really startled me.

      When the radio came on, he took a step backwards from where he was leaning and then seemed to freeze, as though he couldn’t decide if he should leave or stay. But all the time our eyes were locked, and I thought he was going to say something to me.

      Now normally back then, being a young woman alone in that isolated mailroom late at night, just having a strange man show up out of nowhere would have been enough to alarm me. I always made sure the main door leading to that area was locked behind me when I came in for my shift, and the door to the mailroom itself would have been inaccessible to anyone without a key to the main door beyond it. But neither of those facts occurred to me in that moment.

      I didn’t feel threatened, though, but he definitely seemed nervous of me, or at least of being seen standing there. And just as I wondered why he wasn’t saying anything, he slowly started to disappear. He slowly faded into nothing. I was left staring at empty space, but could still feel his presence there. It was the oddest experience I have ever had. And even at the time I wondered why I wasn’t more afraid of what I was seeing.

      I sat very still for a few moments and decided to leave early that night, because I didn’t want to stay there alone any longer. But I didn’t go screaming out of there. I packed up my things, with a feeling like I was moving in slow motion, and locked up. I kept looking all around me, still feeling like he was nearby. Even on the quick walk back to my dorm room it seemed like he was walking along beside me.

      The next day I had to return to the mailroom to pick up a textbook I had forgotten the night before, and saw one of the daytime staff there. She was a middle-aged woman, and had always just ignored me any time she saw me before.

      But on this day she was friendly to me and even called me by name, which surprised me because I didn’t think she even knew what it was. She asked if I enjoyed working the part-time night shift, and winked when she asked if the “ghost” bothered me at all.

      Her wink made it seem like she was joking, but I still felt myself tense a bit when she said that. I just smiled, though, and told her I didn’t believe in ghosts (I didn’t want to talk about my experience with her). But she surprised me by telling me that she was a firm believer now. She told me it was haunted in that office, and then she told me why.

      About twenty years ago, a group of boys were walking outside of that building and two of them got into an argument that led to a fight. They ended up inside somehow, possibly one was trying to get away from the other, but the one boy fell, or was pushed, and hit his head against a pipe by the main door. He died instantly. It was such a senseless tragedy. A young guy’s life cut so short like that. I shuddered at her story, thinking of him dying right there.

      She told me everyone who worked there, including herself, had seen his ghost. I asked for a description without admitting I had also seen him just the previous night. She described him exactly, even the birthmark on his left cheek. But I still didn’t want to talk to her about my own experience. She treated the haunting almost