BOO! I hereby Post my Ghost:

alexanderchee:

The first building I lived in in Brooklyn, the Adams Family mansion, is up for sale. 5,990,000, currently divided into ten apartments. In 1996 I sublet the attic apartment overlooking Carroll Street.
The house is famously haunted by the ghosts of the Irish servants who died there in an elevator accident, and the landlady used to say the ghosts required that residents be Irish. I’d recently been told my grandmother’s last name was Flood—and when I checked, it was an Irish name (from the New York City Floods even—she’d run off to Maine to marry a farmer, my grandfather). That the ghosts never bothered me confirmed for me then, in my own weird way, that I was a little Irish, later actually confirmed by the genealogist my brother hired to trace my mother’s family’s roots. But definitely the strangest moment was the first, when I did as I was told and walked into the empty apartment, set down my bags and said “Hello, my name is Alexander Chee, and my grandmother was a Flood,” to either the ghosts or the empty room.
I’ll never know.
(via Building of the Day: 119 Eighth Avenue)

alexanderchee:

The first building I lived in in Brooklyn, the Adams Family mansion, is up for sale. 5,990,000, currently divided into ten apartments. In 1996 I sublet the attic apartment overlooking Carroll Street.

The house is famously haunted by the ghosts of the Irish servants who died there in an elevator accident, and the landlady used to say the ghosts required that residents be Irish. I’d recently been told my grandmother’s last name was Flood—and when I checked, it was an Irish name (from the New York City Floods even—she’d run off to Maine to marry a farmer, my grandfather). That the ghosts never bothered me confirmed for me then, in my own weird way, that I was a little Irish, later actually confirmed by the genealogist my brother hired to trace my mother’s family’s roots. But definitely the strangest moment was the first, when I did as I was told and walked into the empty apartment, set down my bags and said “Hello, my name is Alexander Chee, and my grandmother was a Flood,” to either the ghosts or the empty room.

I’ll never know.

(via Building of the Day: 119 Eighth Avenue)

(via alexanderchee)

The Revenge of Pablo

There once was a little boy named Frank who lived nextdoor to an old lady named Mrs. Butters. The old lady had a little dog named Pablo and he was extremely annoying. Frank also happened to be very mischievous. 

One day the dog irritated Frank to his limit, so he took Pablo for a walk. He didn’t plan to bring Pablo back. When they reached a lonely street, Frank opened a manhole cover and threw the dog in. As the dog hit the ground, you could hear the bones of the dog breaking and he howled for help.

When Frank returned, he covered himself in mud and made a small cut in his arm. He told the old lady that another dog saw them and attacked Pablo. The dog had taken Pablo away.

When Frank was getting ready for bed, he began to hear a strange noise. It was oddly familiar to him. He couldn’t identify it clearly. Then he recognized it. It was the dog howling. It was coming from the toilet and it sounded mad.

Frank ran out of the bathroom and closed the door. Then he heard a large thumping sound on the door and water was coming from under the door. The dog broke through and started chasing Frank.

Pablo had lost all of its fur and has a psycho look in his eye. The dog tripped Frank and pulled him outside. He took him into a manhole never to be seen again.

—Sebastian C.

The House Next to the Store

When my dad was a little boy my age, he had to go to the store because his sister was thirsty. Well, the only bad thing is that he didn’t really like going to the store alone because next to it was a really old house that people believe was haunted. Still, he went and as he passed the house he heard a little girl crying in the back yard. He went to look for her, but no one was there. All he saw was dry, yellow grass and an old tree with a tire swing on one of its branches. He couldn’t believe it, so he just stood there, baffled, because he could still hear the little girl crying.

He then noticed that it was coming from the house, but as he got closer, the atmosphere changed. It got colder. The cold breeze sent chills down his spine, which was strange to him because when he left his house, it was warm. Then the door started opening and closing, opening and closing, but still he was headed to the house. All of a sudden, as he was half way to the porch, the door flew open and a really strong breeze came flying out. He almost lost his balance, but regained it and out of nowhere, he heard a loud, high pitched scream coming from inside the house. As the scream got louder and louder, the window curtains started opening and closing and the lights started flickering on and off.

As he stared at the door, the little girl appeared out of nowhere. She was pale, had long black hair that covered her face and she was wearing a white gown. She stood there screaming and then slowly moved her hair from her face. My dad saw her and he just backed away because she looked like a demon. Her eyes were missng, her face looked burnt and her mouth opened wider and wider until it passed her neck. Her scream was so high and loud that it made the window pop into tiny pieces of glass. After that, she disintegrated and her high pitched scream faded away.

My dad told me that after what happened, the atmosphere got normal again. He later told me that he ran as fast as he could to his house and told his brother, “I am never going to the store alone, ever!” Ever since that day, he never did, but every time he passes that house, he can still see that little girl through one of the broken windows, staring out at him.

—Crystal A.

One More Thing To Be Scared Of

It was a windy and gloomy Halloween night in New Orleans. The dark sky was covered in gray clouds, the streets were lonely with only the leaves moving across the ground. The room was chilly and abandoned. The wind was blowing and whistling, the trees were swaying and knocking on walls. The house creaked and the wind blew through the open space. The stench of wet cement and damp dirt filled the air. It was a typical day for the city of second chances and voodoo.

I was on my bed listening to my iPod and I heard someone call my name. There was just one problem—I was alone. I went around the house to see who it was and suddenly I felt a cool breeze running down my spine and goosebumps all over my body. I looked around and all the windows and doors were closed. I went back to the room, thinking I had just heard something and I was going to get a cold. I was lying down, listening to my iPod, and out of nowhere I heard a screech on my earphones saying “I’m coming!” and my screen went completely black. I got scared, so I walked into the living room to get my iPod charger thinking it had died and as I walked across the room, I looked out the window and saw a man holding a head. I blinked and it wasn’t there anymore.

As I walked down the hall to my room, I saw a light and it started to move toward me. I dropped everything and started to run as fast as I could out the door to my yard and then it stopped. THe light was getting darker and bigger. I started walking toward it and as I reached out to touch it, a scream came out with a hand that grabbed me and pulled me in. Right as I was going in, it dropped me and disappeared.

With all I had been through I went back inside and the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, my cousin came in and said, “Hello, cousin” in a mischievous way. I looked up and saw her hands full of blood and she had a knife. She walked in and got closer and closer.

I was scared and said, “Stop playing!”

She looked at me and started chasing me. I slipped and landed on my back. As I tried to get up, she pushed me down and aimed the knife at my chest. With all the fear in my life I said a prayer. 

Her face turned pale and she fell to the ground, twisting and turning and screaming in pain. I got up and she stopped breathing. I took the knife away from her. 

Then she came around and asked what happened. I replied, “nothing,” but I knew that there was one more thing to be scared of in this world.

—Cecilia G.

Passive Aggressive Ghost

As he reached for the handle his fingers slowly froze. He wanted to move them but control wasn’t on his side any more. They felt swollen—stiff and clumsy. He told himself it was only fear, and that fear is just an emotion. He tried to distance himself, but in the end he lay his hand on his stomach, far from the knife, and just focused on breathing. The knife stayed resolutely in his chest.

“Pick it up”

The voice again, but each time his fear only intensified. His shoulders shook, his vision blurred and the knife remained in his chest.

“Pick it up”

“I’ll bleed out”

“Yes”

He wasn’t even sure he had managed to speak, but she had answered. Was bleeding out even real? It happened all the time in American TV dramas. There was a knife in his chest. His chest. There was a knife in his chest. The voice spoke on but he didn’t know what it said because the knife stayed resolutely in his chest. If he took it out he would die, but wouldn’t he die if it stayed in? Why wasn’t he already dead? Was he dead?

“Pick it up. If you want us to be together you have to pick it up. You do want us to be together, don’t you?”

Get up. Get up, get up, get up. He could see her now, hovering over him, excited, expectant, dead; the blood from her dramatic injuries and her floating transparency completely at odds with her eager expression. He had to get up, he had to get out, he had to survive. But then he’d look at her face, so simple and so timeless, and he knew; knew that he could never leave her side. Why would he ever want anything else? He needed to show her he could finish what he started.

Evil Given Life

It all began because of one act of jealousy. A painter named Anna was known for her life-like paintings. They were magnificent works of art and she was also known to be the fairest in the land. Her cousin, Mary intended to paint like Anna, but ended up making a splatter of mud. They had both lived in a small town called Ogtanville. But both were from the rich side of town.

The mayor came to visit Anna and wanted to buy her paintings. Anna was very excited and the mayor said he would pay $30,000 for all of the paintings. Word spread like wildfire.

Mary had enough. So when Anna put away her paintings in the shed, later that night it became very stormy. Mary planted everything that could attract lightning and it struck down the shed. But it only activated the materials Anna’s father had left in there. Since Mary left a hair strand where it hit, a puppet painting came to life. IT snuck into Anna’s room and killed her, When her parents heard her screams for help, it was too late. 

The puppet then slit the Dad’s throat and stabbed him 15 times.

Since then no one has seen the puppet. So keep an eye out for him or you’ll be next. Mwahahahahaha!

—Saul

11:11

It was a cold and stormy night in Parksville. Road were closed off, electricity was low. Many people stayed in their homes, but not Elle. She worked a late night shift with her friend Jack. They worked in a tall radio building, reporting weather, playing music and calming listeners.

The old, croaky clock turned 11:11. There was a flash of lightning and a door suspiciously opened. Elle thought it was just a draft., but when she got up to close it, a young girl whose dress was torn up and had wrinkled, lumpy skin was standing behind her. It was as if she was a young old woman. Before Elle could close the door, the girl screamed incredibly loud and shut everything, windows, doors, vents.

By the time Jack came back with some CDs, it was 11:49. He entered the room and saw Elle. Elle was crouched up and had red eyes. She, the ghost, fought Jack, through Elle’s body. But when it turned 12:00 she stopped and left her body. This happened for ten days straight. Jack and Elle had no clue why the ghost was haunting them.

With non-stop rain, thunder and lightning, there was no telling what evil scheme the ghost would think of next. On the eleventh day, the two radio workers were waiting for it to turn 11:11. Only this time, they called up a ghost hunter. He had a device that sensed the presence of a ghost. At 11:10, everyone was still until the device’s red light and beeping went out of control and exploded.

The silence came once more.  A strange and mysterious voice called in a whispering blow, “Elle, come get meeee…”

Elle, who was shaking, dramaticallly shouted, “No! You come get ME.”

At 11:11, the ghost came out in front of Elle and responded, “As you wish.”  The devious master snapped her fingers and, in a flash, disappeared with Elle. 

So every night at 11:11 at the radio station, you can hear Elle’s moaning and screaming and the presence of an evil spirit. Only Jack can still see her. He says she screams “Bloody Murder” and cripples at every gust of wind.

—Vivian A.

The Ballad of Li’l Jay

In 1984 a little girl named Jamie lived in Texas. Most people called her Li’l Jay. It all happened on a bright summer day. The smell of pine and mint filled the air.  The beautiful sun rose on the horizon and the sky was colorful. Birds chirped and leaves crackled everywhere.

Li’l Jay was seven and lived in the forest with her mother. Her house was the only one out there. She woke up that morning and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her mom had breakfast on the table. When she finished, she went to her backyard where she had a swingset. While playing on her swingset, she heard someone singing from deep inside the forest. She thought, should I ignore it?

Li’l Jay decided to follow the singing. It was indescribable and very beautiful. It sounded as if angels were singing with bells and chimes.

As Li’l Jay followed the singing, a cold chill went down her spine. Yet, she was happy that she was going to make a friend. She couldn’t get close enough to the singing. Then she found herself right by a lake. She topped and looked around and noticed the singing had stopped.

She wondered, where did it come from? Did it come from the trees? From the birds? From the ground? She had no idea. 

The singing began again. Li’l Jay tried to follow it, but it seemed to come from everywhere around her. All of a sudden she got dizzy and fell into a mud pile. She tried to get back up, but the mud didn’t let go. She pushed her palms agains the ground to stand up, but as she did, she felt a sharp pain in both of her palms. Jay yelled! She found herself pinned down to the ground. Blood came out of her palms. She screamed at the top of her lungs. She bled to death.

After she died, her body was mysteriously thrown into the lake. No one knew who or what killed the little girl. They didn’t know how she got in the lake.

—Jenni C.