Introduction
I need a place to gather, and where to share, everything that happens in my house. It's a lot of stuff, it's about twenty years of events, so sometimes I might be inaccurate or go back, with flashbacks, on things skipped in previous stories. I'll try to be as clear as possible, and I'll update this post every time something new occur.
About me
Here I provide some personal information to avoid future misunderstandings. Unfortunately, in the past I had problems with users of other forums, so now I prefer to prevent.
Early Ages: 1999-2005
(These are memories resurfaced later. They have a 4/10 trust rate unless otherwise specified.)
When I was very young I remember having an imaginary friend. With "very young" I mean very young, for me it was necessarily real –children's fantasy, you know. As time went by, I forgot her, but then I remembered her when I had to do it in adult life.
I remember talking to my mother about her, and she was worried about the way I talked about her. Sometimes I asked disturbing questions, such as "mum, do you know she's looking at you?", or "mum, why you can't see her?".
(Trust rate: 7/10 –I remember this very vividly, but I was a child anyway.)
Once, one of the rare times when my father didn't sleep at home (I think it only happened twice in my life), I slept with my mother. At the time I was seven or not more than nine.
She was still very disturbed by this story of the imaginary friend, especially for her past experiences (I'll talk about it later). So she asked if I could still see her, and when I answered yes she asked me where she was at that moment. I don't remember how I answered, pointing to her or saying it aloud, but the meaning was that she was sitting on the only chair in the room, in a corner near to "my" side of the bed. I remember this scene very well, because my mother got so scared she cried –and she never cries.
(Trust rate: 8/10 –I remember this very vividly, but it was night and I was young and tired.)
When I was ten, perhaps a little earlier, the first really scary thing happened. I hadn't seen my "imaginary friend" for a while, and growing up I was forgetting about her.
Suddenly, in the middle of the night, the shelves were removed from the wall and fell to the ground with their furnishings. I can't say what time it was, but it was dark outside and my parents were asleep, so after midnight and before six in the morning, I think.
I got very scared, I woke up and screamed loudly. My mother ran to my room, looked at the shelves and said "the shelves have just fallen, we'll repair them tomorrow, goodnight" (yeah, my parents aren't the affectionate type).
The strange thing we noticed the next morning was that the shelf supports weren't broken: the shelves were simply... Flown off the wall. They had been put up and slammed to the ground, in short. Five heavy shelves with dozens of VHS on them, all at once, in the room of a child about ten years old, and with no other people present that could do it. It remained a mystery.
Flashback: 1993-1995
(Trust rate: 7/10 –Memory is not infallible and I have no birth nor death certificates.)
In recent years I have discovered some interesting things about my mother's old house, but before narrating the events, I have to do a little overview of my family on the maternal side.
This part of the story is also quite important, because it involves a little research I did on my origins, in an attempt to find out who this woman in my house is. It's also a bit difficult to write for me, I will help myself with a translator and I hope it remains understandable. Plus, I'll translate my relatives' names in the English-version of the name, because I feel uncomfortable writing names of relatives on the internet, and because English names are more familiar to most people than Italian names.
Patrick married Jennifer. They had three children, and Jennifer died in childbirth with the last one. Patrick then married Jennifer's sister, Margareth (nicknamed Hannah –or on the contrary, no one knows that anymore). The son, John, married a girl named Hannah, and they had seven daughters. First one was Rose (1926-1989 –three children, two sons and a daughter), then Helena (1928 –ten children, seven daughters and three sons, plus a granddaughter and a grandson) living in another city, Millie (1930 –no children), Patsy (1934 –no children), Connie (1937-2008 –my grandma, I'll talk about her), Josephine (1939 –no children) and Lucy (1941-2001 –no children).
Connie married Raphael. They had two male twins (~1966) but they were born dead. Then they had other two male twins (~1967), but they died shortly after birth, both of them. After that, they had five daughters, Hannah (1968 –my mother), Gaby (1970 –a son and a daughter), Vivian (1972), Lorraine (1974) and Valentine (1979 –two sons).
I'm the only child of Hannah, and as I said before, I'm born as a female.
(Trust rate: 8/10 –I trust them, but I wasn't born yet, so they're not firsthand information.)
My mother told me that, in the years immediately before her marriage (1994), strange things had happened in her house. My aunts don't want to talk about it. In the morning they found doors and windows open, closed the night before, and all the lights on. My grandfather, who didn't want his daughters to be scared, sometimes said he did it, but they never believed him.
One day the five daughters discussed the possible presence of a ghost among them. Lorraine didn't agree with this idea, and she said that ghosts didn't exist. The topic closed there. But the next morning Lorraine found herself with her hair soaked in her expensive beauty creams. She became very angry, asking who had done that horrible joke to scare her, but twenty-five years later the other four sisters still swear they had done nothing. Soon after that episode they opted for a Christian "blessing" of the house. The strange things apparently ended; but my mother moved, after her marry, and the strange things started at her house, my house.
(I'll update this as soon as possible. Next time I think I'll talk about 2010s. In the meantime you can read this far, or not –as you prefer.)
I need a place to gather, and where to share, everything that happens in my house. It's a lot of stuff, it's about twenty years of events, so sometimes I might be inaccurate or go back, with flashbacks, on things skipped in previous stories. I'll try to be as clear as possible, and I'll update this post every time something new occur.
About me
Here I provide some personal information to avoid future misunderstandings. Unfortunately, in the past I had problems with users of other forums, so now I prefer to prevent.
- This is not the first time I've written online about it. If you find a similar story elsewhere, especially in Italian, it's not invented –it's just mine.
- I don't like to talk about this, but in the past I was called a liar because I didn't provide this information before, creating confusion. I'm a transsexual boy, still in transition: so I grew up as a girl and for years I wrote online with female pronouns. I hope this doesn't create problems, unfortunately I can't change this part of me and it isn't convenient to hide it.
- I'm Italian: a lot of things are different here compared to the United States or other parts of the world. If something in my posts seems strange to you, I'm probably assuming it's the same in your country as well. Please advise me so that I can better explain myself.
- No, I can't move, because in my country it's awfully difficult to rent or buy a house. The apartments are prohibitively expensive and I have already tried to go away in the past, but it's temporarily impossible for me.
- Yes, I could provide photographic or video evidence. But this is not a game, it's my own home, I'm forced to live here, and to be honest I'm afraid to take pictures or something like that. No one forces you to believe in me, of course, but please don't insult me or worse just because I don't want to install a camera in my room to send recordings to complete strangers on the internet.
- The first question I imagine comes to mind, reading these things, is "maybe you're just crazy". It's not an offensive thing, I was the first to think it; but over time I have had to do many psychological, psychiatric and neurological visits (as I said, I'm a transsexual person –they take it very seriously here). I don't suffer from schizophrenia or psychosis, I don't have a brain tumor or other diseases of this kind, I don't take meds or use drugs; much of the experiences, however, are shared with other people (I will specify them as I go along).
- I'm born in 1995 and I'm a single child of a still married couple.
The Stories
Early Ages: 1999-2005
(These are memories resurfaced later. They have a 4/10 trust rate unless otherwise specified.)
When I was very young I remember having an imaginary friend. With "very young" I mean very young, for me it was necessarily real –children's fantasy, you know. As time went by, I forgot her, but then I remembered her when I had to do it in adult life.
I remember talking to my mother about her, and she was worried about the way I talked about her. Sometimes I asked disturbing questions, such as "mum, do you know she's looking at you?", or "mum, why you can't see her?".
(Trust rate: 7/10 –I remember this very vividly, but I was a child anyway.)
Once, one of the rare times when my father didn't sleep at home (I think it only happened twice in my life), I slept with my mother. At the time I was seven or not more than nine.
She was still very disturbed by this story of the imaginary friend, especially for her past experiences (I'll talk about it later). So she asked if I could still see her, and when I answered yes she asked me where she was at that moment. I don't remember how I answered, pointing to her or saying it aloud, but the meaning was that she was sitting on the only chair in the room, in a corner near to "my" side of the bed. I remember this scene very well, because my mother got so scared she cried –and she never cries.
(Trust rate: 8/10 –I remember this very vividly, but it was night and I was young and tired.)
When I was ten, perhaps a little earlier, the first really scary thing happened. I hadn't seen my "imaginary friend" for a while, and growing up I was forgetting about her.
Suddenly, in the middle of the night, the shelves were removed from the wall and fell to the ground with their furnishings. I can't say what time it was, but it was dark outside and my parents were asleep, so after midnight and before six in the morning, I think.
I got very scared, I woke up and screamed loudly. My mother ran to my room, looked at the shelves and said "the shelves have just fallen, we'll repair them tomorrow, goodnight" (yeah, my parents aren't the affectionate type).
The strange thing we noticed the next morning was that the shelf supports weren't broken: the shelves were simply... Flown off the wall. They had been put up and slammed to the ground, in short. Five heavy shelves with dozens of VHS on them, all at once, in the room of a child about ten years old, and with no other people present that could do it. It remained a mystery.
Flashback: 1993-1995
(Trust rate: 7/10 –Memory is not infallible and I have no birth nor death certificates.)
In recent years I have discovered some interesting things about my mother's old house, but before narrating the events, I have to do a little overview of my family on the maternal side.
This part of the story is also quite important, because it involves a little research I did on my origins, in an attempt to find out who this woman in my house is. It's also a bit difficult to write for me, I will help myself with a translator and I hope it remains understandable. Plus, I'll translate my relatives' names in the English-version of the name, because I feel uncomfortable writing names of relatives on the internet, and because English names are more familiar to most people than Italian names.
Patrick married Jennifer. They had three children, and Jennifer died in childbirth with the last one. Patrick then married Jennifer's sister, Margareth (nicknamed Hannah –or on the contrary, no one knows that anymore). The son, John, married a girl named Hannah, and they had seven daughters. First one was Rose (1926-1989 –three children, two sons and a daughter), then Helena (1928 –ten children, seven daughters and three sons, plus a granddaughter and a grandson) living in another city, Millie (1930 –no children), Patsy (1934 –no children), Connie (1937-2008 –my grandma, I'll talk about her), Josephine (1939 –no children) and Lucy (1941-2001 –no children).
Connie married Raphael. They had two male twins (~1966) but they were born dead. Then they had other two male twins (~1967), but they died shortly after birth, both of them. After that, they had five daughters, Hannah (1968 –my mother), Gaby (1970 –a son and a daughter), Vivian (1972), Lorraine (1974) and Valentine (1979 –two sons).
I'm the only child of Hannah, and as I said before, I'm born as a female.
(Trust rate: 8/10 –I trust them, but I wasn't born yet, so they're not firsthand information.)
My mother told me that, in the years immediately before her marriage (1994), strange things had happened in her house. My aunts don't want to talk about it. In the morning they found doors and windows open, closed the night before, and all the lights on. My grandfather, who didn't want his daughters to be scared, sometimes said he did it, but they never believed him.
One day the five daughters discussed the possible presence of a ghost among them. Lorraine didn't agree with this idea, and she said that ghosts didn't exist. The topic closed there. But the next morning Lorraine found herself with her hair soaked in her expensive beauty creams. She became very angry, asking who had done that horrible joke to scare her, but twenty-five years later the other four sisters still swear they had done nothing. Soon after that episode they opted for a Christian "blessing" of the house. The strange things apparently ended; but my mother moved, after her marry, and the strange things started at her house, my house.
(I'll update this as soon as possible. Next time I think I'll talk about 2010s. In the meantime you can read this far, or not –as you prefer.)
Last edited:
