I mentioned in an earlier post that I am part of Jim Harold’s Campfire Group on Facebook. It’s a place where people share personal ghost stories. I found the great one by the florist on that site, this one, by Leslie, was equally as good. I messaged her and got her permission to share it with you. Enjoy!
This is the first time posting here and it’s kind of a long story so please forgive me. When I was about 13 years old my family moved into a ranch style house in southwest Michigan. This house was brand new, but ever since I moved in weird things happened.
In the first year, I woke up in bed to see a girl around my age just staring at me. What was weird was I could see her in the reflection of my TV but not right next to me. She was very pale with red curly hair and freckles. She wore a white nightgown and was carrying a candle in her hand. I hid under my covers until she was gone.
A few years later, I was home alone and I was playing with the room monitor on my house phone. I would click to the basement phone hear static and click end (I did this a lot as a kid.) Well, this time when I clicked on it, I heard static but something else as well. I turned the volume up and could hear an old man and young girl having a conversation. I couldn’t make out what they were staying. But then I heard “she’s listening,” which scared me so bad I turned on all the lights in the house and locked the basement door.
Finally, when I was home alone again a while later, I was sitting outside on the porch to enjoy the summer air and I heard my dogs barking like crazy. I decided to walk over to the side yard to see what they were barking at. I heard a high-pitched scream from the woods. My first thought was my new neighbors could have a little girl who might have wandered into there. I decided to check it out, just in case. I got to the woods and used my flashlight to try to see anything, my dogs were still barking like mad. Suddenly I hear this little girl giggle. It sounded like it was right next to me. I booked it to my house, locked all the doors, and called my grandma to come stay with me that night.
My good friend lives around the block from me and her family has been on that property for over a hundred years. She told me a long time ago there was a serial killer that would rape, kill, and bury little girls on the same property my house had been built on.
I might have encountered him in the woods as well, but I’ll leave that for another post.
Like what you read? Find more stories by Terri Reid here.