I haven’t thought about this exprience in a long time but listening to many scary stories made me realise that you never know who’s watching (lol…)
When I was about 7/8 years old, my paternal grandmother (we called her babka) passed away. She lived alone and although we didn’t see her as often as we saw my other side of the family, she was someone I missed dearly when she passed.
She was very nice to me and was always very generous and worked incredibly hard in her life. I feel very sad to know that she died alone in her home and my dad didn’t go see her when she called him that day to come see her. That was the last time he ever heard from her again.
I was exposed to many ghost shows because my parents watched them. I don’t know if they let us watch it because they wanted to toughen me up or because it just happened to be what was on the tele at the time (and there was only one TV in the house back then), but we believed ghosts were real.
I am Catholic and my parents are as well, not that we practice it, but we do believe a higher power exists, and that ghosts exist.
A year after babka passed, I was playing outside in the yard one afternoon after school, as I always did. And I remember thinking about babka a lot, feeling the guilt so heavily and imaging what went through her mind when she died.
If she felt any pain or if she just went. If she felt any panic knowing that it was her last moment alive or if she was ready to go… all these questions went through my head.
I sat on the stairs by my front porch going over these things in my head. A lot for an 8/9 year old to think about but I guess I was more mature than I realise.
So I decided, for fun I guess, to start imagening her sitting next to me on the steps and start talking to her. It was daylight so I felt safer doing so, as the thought of me welcoming any ghosts or even pretending to acknowledge that a ghost was around may invite any unwanted and evil spirits into our lives.
I beleived that it was possible, if I let myself, to become possessed by Satan. I don’t believe that now but I strongly believed it then. And if it was night time, I would never have dared this.
I’m trying to remember what I said but I remember moving over a little more to give babka some room to sit beside me and I said something along the lines of: Babka, sit next to me. I hope you’re at peace where you are and that you are happy. I believe you’re watching over us and please know we’re very sorry we weren’t there on your last day here. I think about you all the time.
I felt every part of me clench as if something touched me. I felt tingles all over, but I don’t remember why.
If spirits and ghosts are real, you’re not going to like what I did next. I told babka to put her hand on my back because I missed that and you can probably guess, but I felt something touch the centre of my back.
It was faint, like my mind was imagining it, but it felt real. That terrified me and I froze on the spot. But then I assured myself that if it was really a ghost and if it was babka, then maybe I can communicate with the dead?
I went over to my tampoline which was larger than the average trampoline, easily fitting 4-6 children on it, much to my childhood friend’s envy, and I started jumping. I encouraged babka, who I imagined in my head, was a young girl again who could jump with me on it.
I had a clear black-and-white image of her in my head with a white classic embroided dress on and long dark-brown hair tied up on pig tails and imagined her jumping on the other side of the tampoline with me.
She obviously wasn’t appearing before me in a physical form, but I felt something there, like my whole body felt static as I neared that part of the trampoline as I bounced back in the air.
I wish that’s where the story ended. But it didnt.
My mum would go outside to smoke, so she’d go outside the laundry door which was at the back of the house and have steps immidiately in front of it, using it as a seat to puff away.
So one night while my mom puffed away, she was looking around the backyard then put out her bud before throwing it into the bucket. As she went to get up, she saw a glowing white figure beside her.
It was babka and she was staring at her. Literately. 10-15 centimetres from her face. My mum sat there frozen looking at her. She didn’t say anything to babka. She just sat there frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
I’m not sure what happend after that as my mom never told me but she came inside and told me what just happened. My dad wasn’t at home at the time and I’m not sure if she ever told him of the encounter.
I was terrified to admit to my mother of what I had done a few days earlier. I was worried that I had welcomed babka into our house and now she’s haunting our house. It’s not that it was bad to have her with us, it’s just I didn’t want to be the reason why we had ghosts in our house.
We had cameras around our house because my dad had set some up, using his knowledge and resources as he worked for a telecommunications company and also installed camera systems.
It was my job to change the VHS tape and I did so, but this time I took the previous take into my room. I knew we had a camera that covered the back door and I wanted to see what had happened.
So later that night when everyone was asleep, I put in the tape into my VCR. It took forever to fast forward the VHS tape to where it was but I eventually found it. I saw my mom smoking her cigarette on the steps of the back door.
Every detail of her story was true. I then saw a black shadow figure, yeah, black, walk come from the opposite side of the house and sit next to her. Then I couldn’t see her. The black figure covered that spot of the camera.
Moments later, my mum went back inside the house and I guess that’s when she told us what she experienced outside.
We had some incidients over the following months and years with trivial things going missing and if we were lucky, found them in other places in our house. I’m not sure if it was babka moving them or just coincidence that someone moved something while cleaning, etc, but after we moved house, we never had a problem with missing things ever again.