I'm first going to start off by saying this is not exactly a ghost story. I have have always heard whispers of some kind since I was maybe around 4 or 5. I come from, well, let's just say, a troubled childhood. I have never known my biological mother. I know about her and my father has always told me about her when I was little. But I was later to find out, after moving in with my grandparents when I was 11, that there had always been a question to how she died. Weather she overdosed on purpose, or weather the man she was with then... murdered her. I don't really know anything but after I find these things out I began to realize I have always had these problems with what happened.
I hadn't find out that she was dead until I was 11, she had died when I was 4. Not to long after I moved in with my grandparents and started hearing whispers again. I was freaked out. But after I thought about it, I just closed my eyes and wished it away. I hadn't experienced anything since, then a couple years later, I remember I had just turned 13, I was walking down the hall towards the hall door. It was closed and when I went to open it, it wouldn't open. I didn't think anything of it, the door knob often got jammed. But then it seemed like there was a force on the other side pulling so I couldn't open it, then I heard my name whispered and I screamed. My grandma came and I started crying.
I was totally freaked out so I had my two dogs come in my room and sleep with me. My dogs know not to get on top of my bed but they did anyway. My room is the front room that has two windows that overlook the front yard and across the street, which is a coldy sac, I guess you could call it, and the houses. There is a house directly across the street and they wouldn't stop barking at it. Finally I got them off my bed, and they would just lay on the floor whining. I didn't know what was wrong, it had to do with that house but as far as I had known, that house was abandonned. I scolded them and got into bed.
I had just dozed off when I heard a scream, and I was sure it had come from across the street, from the house they were barking at. I started crying and went into my grandparents bedroom, my grandpa asked me what was wrong, but I just kept crying.
My dad later told me when I was just a baby, the three of us used to live in the house before he took me away from her. We owned the house but there was too many bad memories, so eventually he was going to sell it but he didn't know how. I was scared. I had never felt so scared in my life. I am now 15. I haven't heard anything since.
I really don't really know what went on that night. Maybe it was just my imagination. Or me trying to deal with the fact my mom was really dead. Or was my mom trying to tell me something? I don't know.
I hope I never experience anything like that again.