Tag Archives: suicide

Hey Man!

I have a friend named Peaches who lives in Northern Kentucky and her apartment is haunted.

I’ve always been of the idea that if an apartment is haunted, chances are the whole building was. However, it seems as if the ghost in her place is only in her place.

Probably because this ghost killed himself in what is now her bathroom. It used to be his.

She has had a few encounters with him, and several people have seen him before knowing the place was haunted.

Up until the other day, the only experience I had had with him was feeling electric in the air in the bathroom, feeling his presence. The air was thick, with a chill down the spine.

I’ve only heard one ghost speak before, up until a couple days ago.

I went to the bathroom and just as I was zipping my zipper up I heard someone behind me yell something that sounded like “HEY MAN!”

It happened so fast that I missed it, and the first word came out more like a noise, like maybe an “eh” but it sounded like it started off quiet and got louder. Almost like it flew up on me while it was being said.

The second word sounded just like “man” but it also sounded like it came from right behind me, between me and the bathroom door. And there was only enough room there for a thin person to stand there. That’s how close it was to me. I felt it on my neck.

Also, it wasn’t muffled like it came from the other side of the door, and it was a man’s voice and I was the only guy there.

Now I don’t want to use the bathroom there. Not cause of the ghost, but for the same reason I don’t pee in public. I don’t like other people watching me pee.

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She’s Doing Dishes

I spent some time with my dad recently and we got to talking, as we do. At one point we started talking about a trailer he lived in back in 1994 or 1995. I completely forgot about this place because he hadn’t lived there but a couple weeks it seemed. But as soon as he brought it up I remembered exactly how it looked on the inside, even though I had only been there once.

It was a tiny trailer, almost a camper that you’d pull behind a car when going camping for the weekend. In the middle of the place was the “kitchen” while there was a bed at either end. Typical layout. Dad told me that a couple days after he moved in he was lying in bed when he looked up and clear as day saw a woman standing at the sink washing dishes. Maybe only three or four feet away from him.

He found out two weeks later that she had lived there before him, and killed herself in one of the beds.

Dad kept all of his stuff on that bed and refused to use it or let anyone else use it.