My story is located in my village in Thessalia area about 20 years ago, when me and my 2 cousins went to the cemetery to lit a candle to their father's bones. In Greece we have a storage in the cemetery (which I don't know how they call it in English) where we keep, if we want, the bones of the dead people, so someone can go and lit candles, what we went too for. While one of my cousins and I were inside the storage in order to lit up our candles suddenly the door closed with a terrible noise. (I want to say that it was a sunny and without wind day and that the storage's door opened to the interior of the room). Our candles blown away and we stood in the dark without seeing anything. We were terrified and we tried to open the door which looked stuck. We both tried to opened it but we couldn't.
Eventually, with a lot of effort from both of us and the help of my other cousin that was standing outside also petrified, opened. After that we ran like the wind to my home and we told our parents, whom of course didn't believe us, the story and we never went to that room again. I don't know what was it but until now I am too scared to go alone or with company in there and its a place that always give me the creeps. The most important is that my cousin that was inside with me that day, died a few years later aτ the age of seventeen of meningitis. I don't know if that was coincidence but I can't stop thinking that maybe it was a message from her father in order to warn her about her being in danger.
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