A Ghost Scared of Yamraj

I have heard the stories of ghosts and paranormal experiences of people in older times from my grandmother. But today, no one believes in such things because we are living in the 21st century where such incidents are considered to be a symbol of mockery. But the supernatural happening that occurred to me a few days back compelled me to believe that in this world, there is a real evil.

I was sleeping when I saw a man in my dream. He looked sad and flogged. He was painfully thin and there was a bruise on the side of his cheek, the size of a man's fist. He was trying to convince me of something. Then he looked back and told me "Get Lost" as he told that Yamraj (Hindu god of death) was approaching. His blustering hadn't worked so he began to whine. He then told that if I failed to rescue him from Yamraj, then he will haunt me every night and he won't let me sleep. I was terrified.

My dream broke from fear I felt even during the sleep. To my horror, I saw someone sitting beside my bed who looked still. His figure was similar to my father but he was not my dad. I recognized him from his cheek. He was the man which came in my dream. He looked so real that I asked him about his problem. Now with an aggressive face he turned towards me and he passed through my body. I was paralyzed. I gave out a loud shout which awakened my parents. They asked me why I shouted. When I told them all this, they were not convinced. They thought that I had seen a dream. But I'm sure that it was something more... More than a dream.

From that day, I never saw him again and he had never haunted me. Maybe god Yamraj has sent him to a proper place where he deserved to be!

    
            

I Need An Answer!

  

Iam 2 3years old. Ehen I was 10 until I was 15 I was what they called a lost soul. Suffered sexual physical abuse, came from a broken home. Growing up I was a rebellions child, hanged around with the wrong crowd, doing drugs, having sex etc.

During those bad years I started feeling a presence or something. I always felt like I was being watched, never felt like I was ever alone something was always there with me. I suffered with bad dreams with a shadowed man. You couldn't see his face but just his shadow, very tall guy I might add. When I would dream of this figure I couldn't wake up. As hard as I try I couldn't move, felt a heavy pressure on my chest, I felt like I was paralyzed, I would try to scream but couldn't would last for a couple seconds. When it was over I was finally able to move I'll feel my bed move as if someone was getting out of bed.

All this thankfully stopped but it's been two years now that it's been happening again. I moved in with my baby's dad but we were always fighting, he was rarely home. One night I woke up with no pants and was having nightmares again. I moved out came to live with my mom. Everything okay until it started again. This time my new boyfriend is getting the bad dreams as well as being paralyzed, he saw the shadow to in his dreams.

My 3 year old was just baptized. These past few days he has been having bad dreams of the same figure. He wakes up screaming, he says the man wants to get in bed so he screams at it NO! My son is scared to sleep in the room with me. I don't know what to do. I am scared for my son, he can see the shadow. But I don't know what it is that is following me or am going crazy! Someone explain!?

                                     

                          

A Midnight Encounter With Ghost

Before starting I would like to make clear that this isn't my story but my papa's. The incident occurred when he wasn't married and was in initial years of job. I know about it as I had dears from him. This isn't any imagination but something that occurred for real.
It was beginning of winters during 1995 (not quite sure of year as I have just heard the incident but am sure it was winter as he told me about wearing jacket). My father is a mechanical engineer. That day due to some issues in machine he had to stay back. It was almost 11:45pm when he left the factory. He was on his scooter. He was going straight home when he saw a lady asking for lift. He thought it was quite late and unsafe for a woman to travel alone so he agreed to give lift. He asked her to sit at back.
While he was driving his eyes suddenly fell on woman's feet. He was shocked after what he witnessed. The lady's feet were upturned or we could say in direction opposite to normal human being.
He was so nervous that he turned his scooter in direction of factory and drove as fast as he could towards the factory. He finally stopped at factory gate where he was met by watchman (not to mention that the woman had disappeared as he reached there). He asked my father if he was alright. My father who was still in shock told him everything He had witnessed about the lady who asked for lift and then disappeared on scooter itself. He listened to him carefully and kept patient until my father finished his part.
The watchman then comforted him and accompanied him to the house. After this incident occurred, due to its effect my father was in bed with fever for next 3days. He still gets goosebumps when he talks about incident.





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A Haunting At The Hospital

I never actually believed in ghosts, maybe because I have never had any experience, but this incident has changed my whole perspective of the paranormal.

This experience is not mine, its my mother's. She works as a nurse in a hospital in Nerul. The day this incident happened to her, she had to do an evening shift and the day after that she had a morning shift. During such consecutive shifts, my mom prefers to stay at the hospital in her room along with her colleague rather than return home at night and again head back to work in the morning.

On that day during her evening shift, she started running a fever and by the time her shift was over i.e. At 11pm she was really sick. So she just informed a fellow doctor about her fever and after a quick prayer (she's very spiritual) quickly went off to sleep in her room. Her roommate was on a night shift, so she was alone in her room. Anyway she quickly dozed off to sleep. It was about 2 in the morning when she heard the door of her room open. She was surprised because she never sleeps with the door open but she thought maybe she had forgotten to latch the door as she was very tired and sick. She saw someone dressed in a white coat, he had a stethoscope around his neck. She thought he might be a doctor who is on night rounds and came to check on her since she had informed earlier that she was sick. Suddenly she felt unusually cold in her room as if someone had switched on the A.C. As the man approached her she noticed that with every step he took towards her, his face started to change. And what followed was even more strange, his face took the form of every single person she had met in her life (including me and my family).

She was petrified. She couldn't utter a word forget screaming. My mom tried to be rational and thought she was hallucinating under the influence of fever. She blinked a few times and then looked at the figure. This time she noticed that he had a handsome but unfamiliar face and was standing right next to her by the bed. He did not speak to her or ask her any questions. He just reached out his hand and started checking her neck for temperature. By this time she was convinced that he was a doctor and nothing else. She noticed something quite odd though, as soon as he placed his hand on her neck, she noticed that his hands were very cold. When it got unbearable she tried to get rid of his hand but to her surprise, he reached out his other hand and started choking her.

My mom was terrorized by this and when she looked up to his face, it once again started taking shape of all her loved ones. She wanted to scream at that moment but she couldn't even manage a whisper. That's when she realized that she had a rosary in her bag, close to her bed (luckily). She quickly reached out for it and as soon as she held it in her hand that creature, whatever it was, just gave out a howl and vanished into thin air. My mom quickly got out of the room taking the rosary with her.

She fled to her friends room and after catching her breath she told her everything. She was also startled on hearing this and said that she had had similar experiences in the hospital like the lights going on and off on their own at night and sounds coming from a closed room, etc. Anyway for the rest of the night she stayed with her and returned home in the morning after applying for a leave.

When she came home she tried to act normal and told my dad she wasn't feeling well. She seemed quite worried about something. When I asked her what was it she was reluctant at first because she did not want to scare me but I insisted and she shared her experience with me. I was shocked to hear that such a terrible thing happened to her since she was such a spiritual person.

Mom still works at that hospital but she never leaves home without her rosary. I believe it was a very frightening experience for my mother and also for me. I definitely don't want to go to that hospital anytime in my life.

APJ Abdul Kalam

Born - 15 October 1931
Achievements - This eminent scientist and engineer has also served as the 11th President of India from the period 2002 to 2007. APJ Abdul Kalam is a man of vision, who is always full of ideas aimed at the development of the country. He firmly believes that India needs to play a more assertive role in international relations. 

Apart from being a notable scientist and engineer, Dr APJ Abdul Kalam served as the 11th President of India from the period 2002 to 2007. He is a man of vision, who is always full of ideas aimed at the development of the country and is also often also referred to as the Missile Man of India. People loved and respected Dr APJ Abdul Kalam so much during his tenure as President that was popularly called the People's President. Read more about the biography of Dr APJ Abdul Kalam here. 

APJ Abdul Kalam was born on 15 October 1931 at the South Indian state of Tamil Nadu and received honorary doctorates from about 30 universities globally. In the year 1981, the Government of India presented him the nation's highest civilian honor, the Padma Bhushan and then again, the Padma Vibhushan in 1990 and the Bharat Ratna in 1997. Before Kalam, there have been only two presidents - Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan and Zakir Hussain - to have received the Bharat Ratna before bring appointed to the highest office in India. 

Read on about the life history of Dr APJ Abdul Kalam, who's also the first scientist and bachelor to occupy the seat of the Rashtrapati Bhavan. His perspectives on important topics have been enunciated by him in the book 'India 2020'. It highlights the action plans that will help develop the country into a knowledge superpower by the time 2020. One thing for which he received ample kudos is his unambiguous statement that India needs to play a more assertive role in international relations. 

And Dr APJ Abdul Kalam regards his work on India's nuclear weapons program as a way to assert India's place as a future superpower. Even during his tenure as President, APJ Kalam took avid interest in the spheres of India's science and technology. He has even put forward a project plan for establishing bio-implants. He is also an ardent advocate of open source software over proprietary solutions to churn out more profits in the field of information technology in India.

                                                  

The 't ' Road

I have been a silent listener for the past 2 or 3 years to this site. Always interested in listening to real life paranormal stories and movies too but never wanted it to happen to me at any cost, loved this site, additive too. So anyway worked up the courage to write my first experience. I live in Chennai, south India in a place called mogappair. We moved in 10 years ago. I'm not sensitive to anything even close to being paranormal. This incident is about a particular road which leads to my street, a particular spot to be precise. In India especially south there are beliefs/notions that a spirits reside in neem trees and that T roads are always bad luck, no idea if either is true but usually hindus have a small temple where the roads meet and in neem trees.
So moving to the incidents, I work for a IT firm in OMR, its a long distance from where I live so always end up coming home late and usually the road leading to my street is deserted and though it had street lights it would be dark. A Neem tree was situated right in the intersection of the T road. One day I was walking home around 23:00 hrs, when I reached the T intersection all the dogs on the road started running towards the neem tree and started barking at the tree, It was quiet until then and all the dogs were minding their own business up until I walked near the tree. It freaked me out and I almost ran all the way.
A few months later I was going home late as usual, this time driving a car, road deserted as usual around 22:30 hrs, the moment I crossed the T intersection felt an urge to look back so I just glanced in the rear view mirror where I saw some one (looked like a young female) crossing the road slowly and just vanished when I turned around, freaked the day lights out of me, Stepped on it and never looked back until I reached home.
It doesn't happen during the day or when some one is with me, only during nights that I feel someone is in the car when I cross the intersection until I reach home. I don't walk much now since I have a vehicle so whenever I'm late and I get to cross the intersection until I reach my street I get the feeling of having company in the car.
Sorry for the long narration, I have never written anything this long even for a book report, Wanted to give a context on my culture to get a better picture. If still not clear, would be happy to explain again in the comments.
Not sure if its interrelated though or just me being a scardy cat with all the stories I've taken to my head.

My Grandfather's Mirror

Once, when I was a lad in my youth, a girl of fancy asked me “why does the cage bird sing?” I told her something poetic and romantic that could only have come off as pretentious with ignorance. I now know the answer. They do not sing, they scream. It was only after gazing upon that mirror that I understand the horror of imprisonment; of only being able to stare at the world, of having all your screams and pleas come off as singing.

The mirror was a gift from my late Grandfather. It was a surprise as I was sure he hated me. I thought him a fool, and he the same of me. At the time I assumed this was for appearances sake, a gift to every child and grandchild of some kind. The mirror was this massive obelisk the height of an entire wall. Atop, perched and staring down were three mold dragons. Beneath the mirror, a dozen gold men carrying the thing with their bones breaking beneath the weight. It was truly a sight of craftsmanship! I placed the thing in my study, thinking the intricate carvings would offer the occasional inspiration for my writings.

At first, nothing happened. The mirror sat there and besides the passing paranoia of something in its reflection, a feeling common in mirrors, there was nothing to care about. Then I started to have the dreams.

In an ethereal body, I stared down at myself sleeping, and I was stuck there with only an occasional roll in my bed. But, as the dreams reoccurred they seemed to get longer. After awhile, I noticed something else besides my sleeping frame. From the sides of my bed, perhaps stretching from the darkness beneath, many long black, spindly arms made of smoke and brume crept to my sides. First I thought it was some strange kind of tunnel vision, but each night they seemed to get closer and closer till they reached my flesh. Than I started to see them dig into my arms and side until some blood was drawn and I would wake screaming.

These dreams become nightly curses. Every night they got a little more vivid. I noticed the things dipping and stabbing into me looked like branches, each covered in thousands of hairs like spider’s legs. Each time they dug a little deeper inside before I’d wake up. After awhile I started to wake with a horrible chilling feeling in my arms as those black spindles tickled the bone. Several would try and burrow into my ears at once, slowly jamming in till it ripped at the sides. They would slip into my closed moth, pushing aside my lips, and curl down my throat, till they would grabbed my tonsil and I jolted awake in a vomit.

There was also a chaotic sound would emanate from behind my floating dream body. I could never turn to see it, but I could feel a breath on my neck. My brain could only ever half process the sound. It was loud though; loud and terrible. I needed longer and longer each morning to adjust back to normality.

I was prone to night terrors and hoped that these would fade like the others. It took awhile for me to suspect the mirror until I noticed marks on the floor, scratches as if the thing had been moving on it’s own, trying to sneak back to it’s spot across my bed. My paranoia grew as imagined that chaotic dream sound behind me as I worked. During the times I felt bold enough to turn, there was always nothing there, just the mirror reflecting my mad face.

My last night with the mirror was truly terrible. It was late, and the constant paranoia furthered into frustration. I went to the mirror; to confront it like the cruel assailant I thought it was. It was a foolish idea and I regret it.

I looked the mirror top to bottom, the molds staring back with disinterest. With a hyper eye for detail, I stared at my own being looking for the tiniest inconsistency. I looked to see if my hazel eyes darted somewhere else, if  the two buttons undone on my night shirt were the same buttons, if the heavy black bruises beneath my eyes would grow darker like shadows in the night. I was staring so intensely into the mirror that I jumped as my reflected body dropped to the floor like a doll let go from the hand.

And then I could not move.

I tried to leave my spot in the air, to shift my gaze away from my corpse but I could not. I had entered another dream. This was the same, yet it was different. My mind was not cloudy, instead it was too sharp. The details of everything around me became hyper and overwhelming. My eyes could barely move to the fringes, screaming as they dried and begging for a single blink, which had become an exhausting effort. The chaotic sound came behind me again, and this time knew it would let me turn and see it if I chose.  Yet my subconscious, out of an animalistic fear, froze me like the chaotic force did. The chaotic sound continued to boom from behind without a care. Soon I started to see something from the corners of my vision, a blackness nipping at my sight. I wanted to see, I wanted to better look at the thousands of little things tickling my periphery, but my subconscious would not let me. I was forced to stare at my sleeping body, as the world became a little blurrier, as my eyes screamed in pain, as a fear at the things I could not see well scratched at more and more of my vision. All the while the booming sound that I recognized but could not name was moistly shouted at my neck. I stayed like this for what felt like centuries. Trapped like a picture in slow decay.

Then I woke again. I was at my desk, drool stained pages my pillow, early morning sun my savior. My groggy mind was unsure of what was real, but then the dream became clear in memory and I could feel the imagined lapse of time flay my body and soul all at once.

After that night, I gave the mirror away to my niece. She has a love for gouty things, and loves to cage exotic birds for show, the wretch. You may think I a terrible coward or fool for not destroying the mirror. There was a brief moment, after that last night, that I acted as you would have liked. When I awoke, I dragged my chair towards it with the intention of bashing the wood against its glass body. But as I approached, the dragons seemed darker in shadows, there eyes suddenly red. The men carrying, though silent, seemed to be giving terrified groans, and I could hear a low rumble from behind the reflection. So I put my chair back. I’ve never bothered to ask how my niece is doing.

Still, I am plagued by the dreams. It’s always of my sleeping body, as I hover over it like a ghost, forced to watch as creatures I can not understand have their way with it’s flesh, that chaotic noise behind me. Every night, I pray to God, I pray that I might sleep without these horrible dreams, yet my God is always silent. The only God I hear is theirs, always laughing from behind.

Bio: Josh Flowers was born in California and is currently living in Bangor, Maine. He's has never seen a moose, mostly because moose are jerks. He's been published in the Short-story.me horror section, The Cricket Online Review, Inwood Indiana, and is scheduled for the forthcoming issue of The Fictioneer.