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Real Ghost Stories

The Shack

 

Those of you who have read my other submissions know I generally tell about guardians or those WTH moments that leave me scratching my head and perplexed. I tend to concentrate on the good and leave the scary to others.

People have wondered in the comments if I have ever dealt with a not nice spirit. The short answer is yes. I do not like to dwell on those encounters. I believe to do that, too often, opens the door and invites the negativity in. I also believe that things like demons do not abound as rampantly as Hollywood and even some religions would like for us to think. Quite often, these are really only 'bad' spirits who, when alive, were just plain bad or mean folks. I'm not saying they are a joy to be around, just that they are not demons. Just like not all 'good' spirits are angels. Anyway, that's my belief on the matter.

Before I get to the 'meat' of this event, the first time I clashed with a NOT nice, I suppose I should tell you that sometimes I just know things. When I was 16 for sometime, I had 'known' something bad was going to happen, and that I would need somewhere to run to. Somewhere my father could not reach me. Such a place presented itself to me.

It was in a small wooded thicket near the quarries, which laid at the edge of an old abandoned cemetery. The cemetery itself was tiny. Probably just some half forgotten family plot, or maybe where they use to bury quarry workers, way back when. To be honest, I couldn't say whether the graves, almost hidden by undergrowth and prairie grasses, still contained anyone. A few stones still stood at odd angles, here and there, but unless one paused and LOOKED, I doubt that many even knew it was a cemetery.

The quarries (no longer in use, except as swimming holes by more adventurist teens) were not far from my parents' house. Perhaps two miles if you stuck to the roads, a mile or less if you knew the short cuts through the woods. Sometimes, on 'bad' days, when home was just too much and I could escape, I would go there. I couldn't swim, but the waters calmed me, and I could explore. That's how I stumbled onto the cemetery. I sensed it was there, as if waiting for me. I doubt I can explain 'sensing' it, without sounding daft. But often, graveyards call out to me.

Anyway, one day I was there, trying to pull long grass away from a particular stone to see if I could make out the writing on it, when I heard the hiss. Snake! My one true phobia! Where was it? My heart began to bang and my mouth wet dry. I froze in my crouched position. I knew we had a few poisonous ones in the area - what kind was this? I barely dared to move my eyes, let alone my head as I strained to hear another hiss, and not go into full blown panic mode. Nothing. Just the sound of grass blades rustling in the breeze, and insect life. Very slowly I stood up. Took a step, then another - and then I was running, hopefully in the opposite direction of where the hiss came from. I only stopped when the stitch in my side became unbearable. And there it was. A small cabin, or to be more apt a shack. It almost blended with its surroundings, being made of the same type of trees. A gap showed where a window might have been, and the door hung crazily ajar. The overall sense of it was that the structure only stood because of its own will.

I cautiously approached, and peered through the gap/window. It was obvious no one lived there, at least not recently. I thought maybe it had been built at some point as a hunting shelter, but the amount of dirt and debris built up on the inside indicated that no one had been there in a long, long time. Entering it confirmed my suspicion that the floor was hard packed earth. No fear of falling through a rotted board then, only that the whole place might fall in on you. I noted that, despite the recent rain, inside was bone dry, and no plants grew along the walls or anything. At least nothing I could see in the dimness. I felt odd, but put that down as being someplace uninvited, besides my mental gears were grinding. I went over and examined the door, and discovered that if I lifted upwards it closed fairly solid. I noticed that light came in the between the 'logs' that served as walls in spots. I'd have to seal those somehow. That is how I found my 'safe haven', as I thought of it.

Weeks passed. Home life grew worse. Secretly, I worked on the little shack, smuggling things like a Coleman's lantern and a couple of tins of food up to it, and trying to fill in the worst of the cracks. I never saw anyone near or around the place, but still I didn't change anything (except for closing the door and fixing the shutter that fitted over the gap/window - and that I left off for the most part) that could be easily seen from the outside. Anything I took into the cabin I hid in a small hole I had dug and covered with leaves. I thought to the casual observer the place would still look empty. But, I never felt comfortable.

The day came when for no reason that I could fathom, my father lost it. He yelled and cursed me, knocking me to the ground and kicking me for good measure. Everyone froze, open mouthed. There had been no warning at all. He bellowed that I was grounded and that as far as I was concerned HE was God! I had curled into the fetal position, expecting more blows, when he just as suddenly stormed off to my parents' bedroom, slamming the door. I had heard my mother screaming his name and for him to stop. Maybe that's why he did.

I slowly got up with one clear thought - this time there were witnesses. They'd all seen me take beatings before, under the guise of 'punishment', but this was the first time they'd witnessed the unprovoked attacks, or him being so savage about it. I asked my mom what I had done wrong, she had no clue. I watched her struggle to her feet and painfully make her way to their room. My younger brother brought me a washcloth and I wiped the blood off my mouth. She came back, visibly upset and in tears. "He said it was none of my damn business!" My poor mom didn't know what to do. We all just stared at each other, and my mother lowered herself into her chair, knuckles pressed against her mouth.

My father stormed back into the room and pushed his face into mine. "You want to know what you did, B***h?" He spat the words. I nodded, tensed for another blow, telling myself it's ok to hit back, and wondering where Jaime (my deceased twin brother) was. Actually in my head I was screaming for him to come save me. "I'll tell you what you did! It's none of your F***king business!" He yelled more stuff. It still burns in memory, and none of it made sense. It ended with him ordering me into my room and slamming the door shut on me. I curled up against the wall on the farthest corner of my bed and begged for Jaime to come, and give me comfort. But he remained silent and missing.

From the living room down the hall I could hear voices, and I knew that my father was manipulating them. When he was finished somehow, someway, all the blame would be shifted onto me. Tomorrow, I told myself, tomorrow I will simply disappear, and constructed in my mind some convincing lie as to why I had to leave the house.

It didn't matter. The next day no one would speak or even look at me. In one daring moment my youngest brother whispered that Daddy had told them none of them should. My mother had not left her bed. I figured between her illness and the night before it had taken its toll on her. I went into my room and tossed a few things into my backpack. Nothing much. My dad was sitting in his Lazy-boy reading, I had to walk past to get to the door. "You leave, you don't come back. EVER," the words were said to my back. I kept moving. "You hear me?"

"I hear you."

I went to the shack. There was nowhere else for me to go. I remember thinking, at least I'll be safe here, even though I felt less than welcomed. I was wrong, so wrong. I had spent most of the day between crying, being angry, hurt, and trying to convince myself that this was the start of an adventure, while trying to think of what my next move should be.

That night, I made myself as comfortable as I could on the dirt floor, my head pillowed on my backpack, using the thin blanket I had sort of like a sleeping bag. Half of it under me, the rest over me. I dozed fitfully. I grew irate that my backpack refused to stay under my head, or the blanket to remain over me. It was as if someone kept pulling them away. Plus I kept smelling a weird odor, very unpleasant, coupled with the feeling of being, more than watched, but stared at. I began to think perhaps some animal was in the shack with me and sat up, lighting the Coleman. Nothing to be seen.

I figured I may as well stay up and reached for my backpack, thinking to write in my journal, when it was forcibly pulled from me. I jumped up, and got pushed back hard on the shoulder. It felt like... You know how your fingers feel when you've been out in the cold too long and they finally begin to warm? That burning sensation? That's the closest I can come to describing it. I made a grab for my pack and managed to get the strap, and a tug of war ensued. But there was NO ONE there! Abruptly my opponent let go and I crashed into the wall. Next, the small tins of food I had massed over the weeks, began being thrown at me.

That was enough for me, I still had hold of my backpack or I probably would have left it as I did everything else as I turned tail and ran blindly through the woods, finally stopping when I tripped and fell. I've no idea how long I laid there, too scared to even cry, or even think properly. I know I was still laying there when the sun filtered down through the leaves.

And that was my first encounter with something that was not nice.

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Comments about this paranormal experience

The following comments are submitted by users of this site and are not official positions by yourghoststories.com. Please read our guidelines and the previous posts before posting. The author, valkricry, has the following expectation about your feedback: I will read the comments and participate in the discussion.

logan (3 stories) (219 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-27)
Val, sorry for the delayed response.

Yes, she is a member on this site as well:) We do kind of have our own way of sensing each others energies/emotions I guess. Absolutely can vouch for your last comment 'If you are a twin, you are never really alone'! Even though we live in different parts of the world now, she literally is the only person who knows everything about my daily life, talking/chatting constantly through the day is a way of life now. (thank god for the mobile technology today!)
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-23)
Sam, no worries I have thought of my dad in much baser terms at times. Granny and the other mods would have made me wash my keyboard out with soap if I had even attempted to type out my thoughts about him at the time of this event! 😆 Oh, yeah very, very bad words.
Sam222 (8 stories) (461 posts)
+2
3 years ago (2014-10-23)
Wow, I really enjoyed reading your story. I'm very sorry for how you were treated. Your dad is such a F*****g D***. Sorry for calling your dad that but that's just what he seems like from reading this story. I know how you feel I have a pretty me dad. He's done some mean things that I don't like to talk about. But still love. And I'm sure you still love your father too.
And your story was very descriptive, I could see how the shack looked in my mind, and its creepy, I could see myself inside the shack like you were and in my head I could almost feel the feeling you had when you where in there. You are great writer thanks for sharing your story:D.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+2
3 years ago (2014-10-22)
logan,
Is your twin still this side of the veil?
Twins share an unique bond. My oldest sisters are twins. When they were small, I'm told they shared their own language. Even though one has passed on, the remaining one claims she visits quite often. I guess, if you're a twin you're never really alone!
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-21)
Rachness,
Thank you for reading and the wonderful compliment.
logan (3 stories) (219 posts)
 
3 years ago (2014-10-21)
Val,

God, the things you have seen... Or unseen?!

I totally get the twin thing... I have a twin and trust me could not get through a day without. I am glad Jamie gives you strength in whatever way he can and that I am sure means a lot.
Rachness (guest)
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-20)
I always find myself so lost in your posts. It's so sad to read about your traumatic past and it pains me to have a glimpse of what you went through. I'm sorry to hear about how you were treated. But your posts are amazing and I love a good read like this. Thank you for even sharing your experiences with us. It's hard to open up like you have. This is why you're my favourite author.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-01)
ParaTam,
Yes, Jaime came back. He's always been (and I suspect always will be) part of my life. At least since I was around 10. That's when he told me who he was.
I'm sorry about your daughter's twin, but I am thrilled that you know and understand about it. I think, that maybe this was something that had to happen, in order for me to become who I am. All Jaime said about it was he could not 'interfere' at that time. But there have been many, many times when he was there for me, if only as a voice. I've noticed as I grow older, I 'see' him less. It could be that my need for him isn't as powerful as it once was. Maybe sometimes he just sits back to see how I'll handle a particular situation. Or, another thought I've had is perhaps he's the reason why most of my encounters are of the friendly kind. I don't think I'll ever really know.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-01)
BJJ,
No worries. We should not, and I will not hold you guys (the mods) responsible for every not thought out comment made. I just chalked it up to someone not having read the comments. Like I said, I can see where someone might think I had a choice... Anyway, thanks for having my back.:) I think you all do a pretty fine job!
ParaTam (3 stories) (78 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-01)
Valkricry -
That was a great story - very sad, but well-written. I'm so sorry you had to go through that in life. My mommy heart cries for you. I truly hope you are living a personally fulfilling live now. I can imagine your mom had it bad too. So many women (and I imagine men too) in abusive relationships stay with the abuser because they think it is better for their children or their own fear of trying to live on their own.

I am very curious about your twin brother, Jaime. Did Jaime ever come back to help you? I ask this because my own daughter has contact with her twin brother from the other side. I've connected with him using divining rods, have felt his energies, and seen him as a shadow person. My daughter and her spirit twin are very close, and he has defended her against a couple of "baddies" that hung around our house at one time.

Blessings to you!
ParaTam
BadJuuJuu (13 stories) (1034 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-10-01)
Val, I wish you hadn't seen that before one of us had a chance to do something about it.
Fearless, that was completely out of order. If you want to stay on this site, learn to play nice.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
 
3 years ago (2014-10-01)
Fearless,
Well, I can see where someone who was not involved could believe that I had a choice. Since the abuse had started long before, I doubt the cemetery had anything to do with that. However, I have wondered if I had triggered something that then followed me into the shack.
notjustme (18 stories) (821 posts)
 
3 years ago (2014-09-29)
P.S. I think I left it in the hands of God, and saw results. As it turns out, he had to move back to our city from wherever he went, but his wife divorced him and took all 3 daughters away from him.
notjustme (18 stories) (821 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-29)
Val - thanks for the reply and sympathy. I actually meant to say "happens FOR us and not To us" for the record 😆. You know, I used to imagine what I would say and do to that person if I ever saw him again after he moved away. As life brings us many unpredictable events, he actually got into the apartment I used to live as I was moving out. I saw him and not only was I surprised at how calm I felt, I realized what he did to me never held me back in life, so I was not going to trick my mind into believing "I hate you and I HAVE to seek revenge". Instead, I wished him luck but I DID hint him that I remembered everything from my past. Whether he took it to heart or not, I did see his face change, and that was enough for me to move on.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
 
3 years ago (2014-09-29)
notjustme,
I concur, most of us seem to agree that bad entities feed off of negativity. Was it lurking there the entire time? Possibly, it would explain why I was never able to feel comfortable, and I was quite use to exploring abandoned properties. (My older brothers and I preferred to think of ourselves as explorers and not trespassers 😉 😆) On that particular day, I was definitely negatively charged. So, I think the idea that it was enough to manifest activity is plausible.
But then, too, I think it is possible that any strong emotion can embed itself into a structure. That's why, even empty, some houses feel 'safe', or happy, or sad, or just angry. Who knows what that little shack had been witness to?
I'm sorry, you too have suffered. Hopefully, this person paid the price, and that you were able to overcome.
notjustme (18 stories) (821 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-29)
sorry, I just skimmed through some of the comments and realized he is no longer here and that you have choose to forgive him. I applaud your bravery and open heart. It is true, when we forgive others, we forgive ourselves.
notjustme (18 stories) (821 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-29)
Valkricry - I'm sorry you went through that, but at the same I do believe life happens FOR us and TO us. I do believe all the hardships you had to endure led you to be a strong individual that is now up for any obstacles life throws at you. I can relate to you but it was not my father but his friend... And it was not domestic violence but another type of abuse that went on for years. I hope by now you either stopped talking to your father or he has changed for the better.

On another note, As many believe here including myself that bad energy radiated from us attracts other bad entities. That thing was probably waiting for the perfect moment to make contact with you, and that day was jackpot day due to your high level of emotions. Thanks for sharing.
allesgute154 (3 stories) (254 posts)
 
3 years ago (2014-09-29)
Thanks so much Val, I'll certainly get in touch with you over email.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+3
3 years ago (2014-09-28)
Triskaideka,
I found myself smiling a bit at your comment. Where you mentioned running away for a night or two across the street. It reminded me of when my kid brother (I think he was like 4 at the time) ran away to the dog house in the backyard because (imagine that exasperated voice kids use) "I'm not allowed to cross the street by myself!"
Thanks for the smile.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-28)
allesgute,
I understand that. I really and truly do. It took a long time for me to get over my anger. That's all forgive really means, you know. To stop being angry over an event. All that hugging, and kissy stuff you see on TV is just... Gift wrapping. Forgiveness has nothing to do with trusting or even liking that person or having them back in your life. Because you forgive someone, it doesn't mean that action they did still doesn't hurt. It just means you aren't angry any more. Anger is a very heavy load to carry through the years. It's a weed that if not pulled will take over every facet of your life.
I don't know if you are seeing a therapist, or have accessibility to one, but it isn't too late you know. A good one should be able to help you find the tools to let go.
If you want to email me about this, it's on my profile. I will help you as much as I can. Sometimes all it takes is talking to someone who's been there. Do not feel as if you are alone.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-28)
Nectarvore, I feel it's only fair to tell you that during the time this event happened, my mother was terminally ill. She was physically incapable of intervening. Between the medications and painkillers, I'm fairly sure my father convinced her things were not as she saw, if that makes sense.
Thank you for the blessing.
Triskaideka (2 stories) (369 posts)
+2
3 years ago (2014-09-28)
Oh Val, this should have come with a tissue warning. Tears are streaming down my face. I just want to hug you. When I ran away for a night or two at a time, I found refuge in the church across the street. It was eerie merely because it was old, musty, and empty. I can imagine myself finding a cabin and thinking it a great hideaway. How terrible that it turned out for the worse. *hugs* Thank you for sharing this story.
allesgute154 (3 stories) (254 posts)
 
3 years ago (2014-09-28)
I meant, I'll try to 'forgive' in the distant future. The abuse was so much that it forever dented my self confidence. Even now, when I have to take important decisions, I always waver. Sorry for the spam:)
allesgute154 (3 stories) (254 posts)
+2
3 years ago (2014-09-28)
Thanks for the kind words, Val. I'm currently at such a stage that I can neither forgive nor forget. Maybe in a distant future, I'll try to forget. But God has gifted me a dear darling daughter, who is my reason to look forward to a beautiful future and whom I will cherish all my life:)
Nectarvore (1 stories) (209 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-27)
I am as deeply saddened by the fact that your mother did not protect you as I am by your fathers mentally unstable abusive treatment of you. And yes, I agree that a persons mental state can make them vulnerable to psychic attack. It's vibrational. If all the universe is energy, this makes sense... It's a metaphysical law. If you heighten and strengthen your vibration... You cease to be vulnerable to attack... I am just so sickened that you had to experience such abuse... And that your mother was so disempowered that she allowed it to happen. Rise above... Always. Blessed be, Valkicry.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
 
3 years ago (2014-09-26)
alien11able,
No, the spirit did not follow me, and I never went back to the shack.
alien11able (9 posts)
 
3 years ago (2014-09-26)
What happened after you left the shack?
Did whatever attack you also follow you? Intriguing story!
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-26)
elnora,
Thank you for reading and commenting. One of my pet theories is that our own emotional status is what attracts a peculiar 'type' of spirit to us. I'm not saying that experiences (especially those that are negative) can't leave their stamp and change a person, just that over all your own outlook to begin with might be like a beacon to them.
valkricry (39 stories) (2773 posts) mod
+3
3 years ago (2014-09-26)
allesgute,
There are so many of us, isn't there? I am so sorry that you too have known that awful sting. Mental or physical, pain is pain. At least the physical fades with time, but the scars on your heart - Well, they are forever. People always say to 'forgive and forget', and I think that is wrong. Forgive, yes. Try and push past and begin anew. But, never ever forget. Use that memory as a tool to try and be a better person because of it.
elnoraemily (11 stories) (1051 posts)
+1
3 years ago (2014-09-26)
This encounter made me feel a whole spectrum of emotions. I think it's amazing you are such a positive and insightful person despite all of your hardships. It takes a truly strong person to still stand up with pride and a smile.

I agree with what you said in the comments, about your own energy being the negative force that you encountered.

As someone who was also homeless as a teenager, I find a lot in this that I can relate to on a deep level. Thank you for sharing this. It could not have been an easy thing to write.

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