I don't really know where to start, some would say the beginning, but I'm still unable to identify that place or time at this stage. The things I have been experiancing have been happening since I was young (8-9 years old.) with both minor and major intervals, coming and going, but lately getting worse.
I wouldn't say I'm here seeking help, though I do have questions regarding what's going on with me, I am undeniably scared, terrified even. But I'm remaining calm while writing this in the hopes that someone can relate specifically to my case.
So let's begin... It all started a long time ago when I was 8 years old, staying in my aunties house in North Wales, United Kingdom.
I had always stayed at my aubnties house since she moved there when I was just 6 years old, and nothing seemed to happen before. She lives in a house that actually had a name "Ramberler House". I'm told it used to be a 14-bedroom Inn going back around 200 years or so. (Perhaps a little longer judging by the state of the building and the copper old taps and sinks, along with the generic olden day basement they had.) Every single room has a strange feeling to it, and the house is really big so as a whole it feels very intimidating to be in.
- Back to the story. -
This time, when I was 8, I went to stay there again during the summer holidays like I always did every year. My auntie used to plan "days out" each year, and this year we were going mountain climbing with my uncles in the van she had, with a picnic and things to eat and drink while there. While traveling there, we almost got lost because of the woodland we had to drive through to get there, but the road signs got us there in the end with my Uncle's stubborn driver attitude. (We was going to Snowdonia, in North Wales, United Kingdom.) When we got there, it was really misty, and empty. This was strange because we saw pictures of the mountain area/public area on the internet and TV many times before, and where we ended up was nothing like that, so we looked around. Apparently we ended up at the Mountains 50ish miles south of Snowden', but it was fine, it looked nice, peaceful, so my relatives decided we'd spend the day there.
I, being 8 years old, feared anything scary-looking, so the fact we were in a people-less rocky, misty deserted area with almost no life at all besides the few birds flying over-head, I didn't feel good about it at all. None the less, I trusted my relatives and tried to enjoy myself still. My auntie and mother stayed at the van preparing food and chatting over tea while me and my uncle and two cousins walked up the path onto the mountain, I needed help for a lot of it because of how steep it was, and how young I was at the time - but I enjoyed the walk, I love the countryside. When we got 130 ft up, we were on flat land again, and found a deserted old house, or barn, I couldn't tell the difference. So we, even though my Uncle thought it was private property, went over to check it out. Inside was black, like it was burnt out at some point. Cobwebs everywhere, no evidence at all that anyone had lived there for a long time.
My Uncle said he needed to go outside for a moment to see if he could get reception to call my other cousins to come up and see it, since walking back down would talk around 40 minutes a time. I was inside with my cousin, looking around. Something shiny stood out to me, and I remember it clearly because I always liked shiny objects at that age. I went over to see what it was, and found what seemed to be the top of a spear, you know, the blade part. It either had rust or dried blood on it, but it looked more like blood to me, being young with a crazy adventurous mind. I went to pick it up, then a sudden (perhaps predictable since we are on a Mountain) gust of wind hit the house, and one of the glass-less windows fell through. I ran out, was terrified and paranoid, convinced myself it was a Wizard after being told many stories that ancient Welsh wizard's lived in the Mountains as ghosts.
Cutting a long cry-baby story short, of me begging to go back down to my Mother because I was so scared, we ate the food and drove home because my Auntie's arthritis was hurting because of the cold weather. When we got back home, it was dark, and I usually always go upstairs to my cousin's bedroom. He's always in there, listening to music being lazy and jobless. I always know when he's in there, because you can see shadows under his door and hear the music on, and you just generally have a feeling that someone is in there. I had this feeling, so like always, I went in. Walked in, expecting to see my cousin, Brian, laying on the bed, but no one was here. Just music playing. My Auntie followed me in and told me off for touching his stuff, she accused me of putting the music on myself... But I didn't. According to her though, Brian was in his friend's house two towns away, and no one goes into his room when he's not around - which is true. I still wasn't scared or paranoid at this point, because I had no reason to be yet.
The following years to come, at least another 5-6 years, nothing happened there. However, when I went back when I was 16 (Almost two years ago now, I'm almost 18) things started to happen that have changed my life since, and is the reason I'm writing here right now.
We drove over to my Aunties house from Liverpool in England, where I was staying at the time, it was late at night because my Uncle prefers driving that distance at that time to avoid traffic. We got to the house around midnight, my Auntie, who is disabled, decided to send my Uncle to get some Pizza because it was just us three home in this huge house, while me and her stayed in and waited for him to get back. She told me to go and shower because I still had sand in my hair from the beach earlier that evening, so I did.
The shower was on the second floor, and always freaked me out because of the very old tap and sinks, and the sense of being watched it had for years. She said "Zik, go take a shower. Leave your dirty washing outside of the door, and I'll leave you fresh clothes outside for you to put on when you get out." so I said okay, and went to take a shower. While I was in the shower, I heard squeeking sort of metal noises coming from the window, but assumed it was just the old house being a generic old house. Next minute, a bang outside the door, I quickly asked who was there, and my Aunt' replied "It's only me silly, your clothes are here outside the door. Don't take too long, it's really late as it is." I replied okay, releived that I was being stupid after thinking it was something else. I finished my shower 5 minutes later, opened the door a little to let the steam out and started getting dried.
The house was silent at this point, so I figured my Uncle still wasn't back and my Aunt had fell asleep downstairs on the chair watching TV in the dark like always.
As I was getting dried, I kept seeing "something", be it light, or dust, or something else out of the corner of my eye outside the door - I was paranoid, but I ignored it and laughed it off. Picked up my cell phone to check the time, and text my friend Jess. I almost dropped the phone when I looked at the door again, and could just make-out the figure of a man bending over by the door. I assumed it was my Uncle and said "I'll be out now, but I need to get my clothes and I'm not decent - can you move away from the door please?" I heard him walking away, then the footsteps stopped. I opened the door, looked at the floor and my clothes weren't there. Then I noticed my socks further up the corridoor on the floor, then I jumped back as I saw a shadowed figure of a man walked around the corner at the end of the corridoor with my clothes under it's arms. I knew it wasn't my Uncle, it had turned really cold, and the house was still silent.
I put my Uncle's house coat on and, perhaps naively, followed it, or where I thought it had gone. I got to the landing area of the second floor, and it was really dark, only light enough to see where I was going - so I reached to turn the light on and it didn't work. This wasn't unusual, they lived close to the Mountains so power shortages was common. Then, I heard voices, then drums, then... Music. Marilyn Manson to be precise, playing from Brian's bedroom. I assumed it was Brian who I hadn't seen for 12 months, that he had came home and took my clothes as a prank. So I rushed in, and felt a gust of icey cold wind in my face as I opened the door. I looked around, and two of his posters on the wall tore on their own, then I saw my clothes. Completely unfolded and layed out on his bed in the shape of a person, you know, hurt, then the pants then socks where the feet would be. I freaked out and ran out, down the stairs to my Aunt. As I ran, I felt like something was walking fast behind me.
I got down the stairs, and through the glass doors I saw my Uncle, he was knocking but I couldn't hear the sounds from the knock at all, my Aunt came in from the kitchen and said "I've been trying to open the door for 10 minutes, but the locks won't take the key, can you try?" so I went and tried to open the door, it was stuck still. I pulled and I pulled, then I pulled once more and the door opened this time, but with it a huge deep manly "scream" moving up the stairs leaving an echo with it. Both my Aunt and Uncle screamed with it, and was just as confused and terrified as I was to what was happening. Everything calmed down besides our hearts, and the house went silent. We sat up trying to talk about what just happened, but none of us could - they came to a sudden conclusion that it was the stormy wind rushing in as I managed to open the door. I didn't agree, but I agreed subconsciously for the "closure" I so definitely needed from that night. We all slept downstairs, my Auntie said with the storm it would be too cold upstairs for us (The house was so old, they didn't have "heating" upstairs.)
The next few days where calm, no more "stuff" happened and my cousins were still out of town until the Friday. Friday came, and my cousin came home, one of them anyway. He always let me stay in his room with him whenever he was there, on the top floor of the house. Cutting the day short, it was Friday night and really late - we were going to bed in fact. We said goodnight to one another, then tried to go asleep. My cousin fell asleep fast, because he was tired from his drive home from South Wales earlier that day, but I couldn't sleep. I wasn't exactly "paranoid" but I felt like I shouldn't sleep yet, like I had to make sure no one was on the same floor as us first. (This floor only had two bedrooms and the attic above us.)
After about an hour, I started to fall asleep. Then I was woken by deep foot movement noises coming from the stairs outside the room, I opened my eyes and looked around trying harder to concentrate on the noises. They got louder, like whatever it was, was coming faster and closer to the top of the stairs. I swiftly sat-up to look at the door, then whatever it was, judging by the sounds, ran up the last few stairs very fast and it the door open leaving a huge bang and gust of wind, my heart... Jumped through the roof. My cousin woke up and shouted at me not to be so noisy when going to the bathroom. I said it wasn't me, it was something else and I could still feel it being there, he then sat-up too and asked if I was serious. I told him I was, then told him what happened earlier this week. He said, "Zik, it's important you don't pay attention to things like that. Ghosts, if they exist, go away when you don't invite them in, just try to get some sleep, it's late. You go home tomorrow, so you need to be awake early in the morning." I had no choice but to agree, he closed the door and got back into bed. I turned over, and layed back down trying to go asleep. I felt like "something" in the room I couldn't see, be it too dark or it was a "Ghost" had it's eyes on me the entire night.
We drove back to Liverpool the next morning, just leaving in the car and seeing the house from an outsider's perspective was enough to ensure me that it was not me just being paranoid. I'm not a person that frightens himself with fears, not at this age.
When we got back to Liverpool, my Mother was smothering me. She said I looked drained, like I hadn't slept and something was bothering me. I told her I hadn't slept, but I'll be fine after a good night's rest. That night, completely forgotten about the stuff in Wales, I got in bed and quickly fell asleep feeling safe for once. But that soon changed when I was woken up by "something" at 3:00am, there was shadows under my bedroom door, I thought it was my Mother so I called out "Mum, is that you?" the shadows moved side to side, there was two of them, then came towards the door. At this point, the memories of Wales hit me, and I sat back against the wall pulling my blankets up to my kneck, scared terribly. These "things" were coming towards me, I could feel it. That silence I experianced in Wales filled the house, it was growing cold in my room. My childhood figures I still had standing on the furniture in my room, started to shake like someone heavy was walking next to them on the floorboards. Then, I felt the bottom end of my bed pressing down like someone was leaning on it, or sitting down, it was happening slowly like whatever it was, was sitting on it slowly leaning over towards me.
I lost it, fear overthrew me, and I ran out. Trying to open the door with that same impossible strength holding the door shut, but it finally flew open - I needed to get out and I didn't care how. I ran downstairs and stayed in the living room with the lights on. My Mother and Father came down, and I explained everything to them. Since then, it's gotten worse. My Mother is very religious, and she persisitently invaded my life with her preaches about church and seeking help from a religious leader or man of God.
She asked her friend, Father Thomas, to come and talk to me. Father Thomas asked if I was troubled, or if I genuinely believed there were ghosts with me, I was shocked. Until now I hadn't openly considered I had spirits stalking me, not really. He said I'm probably just over-stressed with school work and my mind is playing tricks on me, I agreed since I respected this man from a young age, and left the room going upstairs to get my shoes. I heard him asking my Mother if she wanted the house blessing for assurance, and she said yes. I don't know why, but hearing her say yes filled me with uncontrolable rage, I went into my room and punched a hole through my wardrobe door, in which I got grounded for too.
Like I said before, these two events was the start of what I'm going through now and have been for the last 11 months. Each night I heard many male and female voices whispering deeply, but I can't make out what they're saying. Stuff in my room moves, and I keep waking up with unexplainable scratches on my legs and sides. I know they are ghosts/spirits, and they have control over me - not like possession - but I can't do certain things without them getting angry and violent with me.
There's no end to my story, because it's still happening today. I know no one can help me, but just knowing if someone can relate would be enough. I had to get rid of my Dogs, because since 11 months ago they started attacking me for no reason, barking violently then biting only me, with no reason other than me just being there.
Any comments will be much appreciated.
Thank you so much,