My name is Sonny, and I have just recently turned 14. I am an Atheist, and I have never believed in ghosts or anything paranormal. This story regards my best friend Anne and her ghosts.
I met Anne in the first grade. She always told me tall tales, and I was very gullible. So, for a while, I believed that Anne had super powers that she could talk to animals, that sort of thing. After a while, she got bored of these lies, and told me they weren't real. Eventually I grew up, got less gullible and learned to question things she, or anyone else, told me. There was one story that she always stuck to, though, even to this day. She had always told me that there were ghosts haunting her house. It was a family, she told me, with a mom and a dad and a small child, and they had been murdered. They lived in the walls, she would claim. I was sceptic.
One day, when I was around 8 or 9 years old, I was staying over at Anne's house, as best friends would do. Eventually we got to talking about the ghosts, and we, being the budding ghost hunters we were, decided to try to summon them. We chose the bathroom as the "summoning place," as we called it. I, to this day, have no idea why we chose the bathroom--maybe Anne thought it had the most paranormal activity in it, as she had told me stories about things happening in there before. We waited until nightfall. We turned off the lights, and pinkie-swore that we wouldn't turn them back on unless we were in danger. We sat back-to-back in the middle of the floor, completely silent.
"I-if there are any ghosts in here... Show yourselves!" Anne mumbled. Nothing happened for a few moments, until there was a loud crash, like something had fallen from the shelf. Suddenly, it was extremely cold, colder than I could ever remember it being. I felt sick, scared, like I would never be happy again, like all my happy thoughts were being pulled away. It became incredibly dark, thick, and darker than should be possible. At the far left corner, I could see a white, misty fog appear. I felt a hand on my shoulder, but it was menacing instead of comforting. It gripped my shoulder and I felt bony fingers dig into my skin. I forced myself to look. I didn't see anything, but I was sure I could feel it. I shut my eyes, and I could feel the cold fingers wrap themselves on my throat. My eyes were squeezed shut now, and I was silently crying. Anne screamed, kicked her leg, stood up, ran for the light and flicked it on. The hand around my neck disappeared, and Anne grabbed me and we ran out the door, her screaming and me sobbing and shaking like crazy. We didn't sleep that night, and I barley slept for several nights afterwards.
I'd like to believe that whatever we saw or felt was our imagination. I have never heard, seen or felt anything paranormal, at Anne's house or otherwise, since then. I have no idea what she saw, heard or felt, as she will never talk about it.
Any comments are appreciated. Thanks.