Boo!
I put this on the newly created social group that Chiy started for us to scare the dickens out of each other. Now, this is true. It's not some story I told around a campfire as a kid.
Have any of you ever had an experience or experiences that you felt were ghosts? I have. When my son was not quite two years old, we lived in an apt. building on the third floor. It was during the winter months when some really weird things started happening. First was the fact that when I woke up really early in the morning to go to the bathroom or whatever, I'd sneak a peek at him in his crib. He'd be sound asleep with a blanket covering him up perfectly. He slept on his tummy most of the time and the blanket would be right up to the nap of his neck and kinda tucked ever so slightly around his shoulders. All down the sides, it looked as someone tucked it in around him and under his feet. Strange part was, the blankets were not in his crib when I put him to bed. They weren't even anywhere near his crib. Now, it was just me and Brandon living there. I had thrown his Dad out and the locks had been changed. People thought I was going nuts, so did I. After this happened a few nights in a row, I would make sure that I folded the blankets in his room and put them on the changing table which was in the opposite corner of his bedroom. I didn't put blankets in his crib because he never stayed covered up. He'd kick them off. I had a regular sleeper on him with a onesie and then a blanket sleeper over it. ( I couldn't stand the thought of my baby not being covered.) So there was no need for a blanket.
After a few mornings in a row, waking up to him being covered up with a blanket that was on the other side of the room, I started getting freaked. I wondered if his Dad had somehow gotten a key to my apt. I started putting a piece of thread across the door, different things to let me know if someone came in. Nothing.
My son had a toy airplane that hung from the ceiling in his bedroom with fishing line. It took two AA batteries. One day he kept coming out into the living room, trying to tell me in his limited language that he wanted the airplane to fly. I tried to explain to him that the batteries were dead and I didn't have any more. How do you explain that to a two year old? I couldn't. This went on for about a half an hour or so. He wanted that plane to fly so bad. Next thing I knew, I heard him in his bedroom squealing with laughter. As I began to walk down the hall towards his bedroom, I heard the buzz of the airplane. It was flying around the room. Now, to get this to fly, you have to turn it on and then throw it in the air and it slowly begins to make the circle that it flies in. This airplane was flying as high as it could, in the perfect circle. It usually took at least 3 - 4 minutes to get to this height. I was shocked. I was so scared to walk into his bedroom but I had to go get Brandon out of there. I grabbed him and ran him into the living room. Then I went into his bedroom to face this airplane. I grabbed it in midair to stop it. Once I got it, I held it in my hand, scared to death. I turned the airplane over and not only was the switch flipped to "on", when I opened the battery door, much to my horror, there were no batteries in it at all.
Other things happened. Brandon had this little musical toy that played pretty loud. He loved this stupid thing. I was getting ready to watch my favorite, weekly tv show and he kept wanting me to turn the knob, make it play. I was ready to watch my show so when he set it down to watch a commercial on tv, I put it up on the top shelf in his bedroom. I figured out of sight, out of mind. I went back into the living room so I could watch my show. He was crying, he was looking around for this toy. A few minutes later, out of nowhere, that toy started playing in his bedroom, way up on the top shelf. Only Brandon and I were there.
Brandon went through a brief biting stage. I never did that biting him back stuff, I don't think that sends the right message. I would just say,"No! Don't bite!" pretty sternly. One day, he bit me good. I yelled,"No, don't bite!" and I smacked his mouth. It wasn't hard, just enough to stun him. Or so I thought. Next thing I knew, I plate that was sitting on the kitchen table flew across the room, about 20 feet, hit the wall behind the sink and shattered pieces fell all over the counter and into the sink.
This was enough. I called the owner of the building the next day. I figured he'd think I was nuts. After making dumb small talk, I asked him if anyone who lived there before me had ever had any weird stuff happen in that apt. What he said next freaked the f*ck out of me. "Oh, is she back?" I froze. I was even more scared than before.What do you mean 'is she back?'
He explained to me that the first tennent was a retired music school teacher. She lived there for about 12 years before she died in the apt. The woman lost her husband and son to a car accident many, many years earlier. This is why she took such a special interest in Brandon. He "became" her little boy for awhile. She kept him covered at night, turned on his toys for him when I couldn't or wouldn't and when I smacked his mouth, she let me know that she didn't like it. Her name is/was Gladys. It was suggested to me by someone that I should let Gladys know that she was scaring me. And if I was scared, Brandon would pick up on it and soon he would start being scared. I walked through the apt. several times, holding Brandon in my arms and telling her that she was scaring me. I explained that she didn't have to leave, just stop interfering with my Mothering.
Soon, it all stopped. Gladys just let me take care of him from then on.