I am going to try and do my best in recounting my own personal experiences. Starting from when I was a small child up until the present. I was born and raised in Oklahoma. I still currently reside here. I will post each story individually so that it is easier to read.
I grew up with my mother telling me her personal experiences along with her reading me stories and watching television programming with her. I remember her telling me stories that my grandfather told her and ones that he had accumalated from his life in Arkansas. As well as those he gathered from the Ozark area. I never met my grandfather, but from what I hear he always had something to say and was quite the comedian. My grandfather sung and played guitar. He is buried on a mountain top in Arkansas where one of my experiences happened.
The very first experiences I ever had was in a house that my paternal grandmother had owned and my dad grew up in. My dad's father who adopted him went missing before they found his body in a truck beside a rail road track. He had been shot. His murder is still unsolved. The house was a one bedroom with a den, living room, dining room, kitchen with a wrap-a-round island, pantry/laundry room, and bathroom. This house is off of 15th&Byers in Oklahoma City. I slept in my parents bed since it was a one bedroom. I was about four years old. Like every other kid I had a vast imagination, but NOT an over active one. I remember sleeping in bed and waking up to the drawers in the kitchen opening and the clinking of silverware. Since the bedroom was off of the kitchen to the left. But you had a clear shot of the fridge from where I slept. After things being messed with in the drawers, you would hear the small cups on my mom's teacup tree clinking together. They would stop and then you would hear silence. After a minute the fridge door would open and stand open before slowly closing. This happened every single night and in the same pattern. First you would hear the drawers opening, then the clinking of the silverware, then the clacking of the teacups on the metal tree, silence, and the fridge opening and closing. Sometimes we would wake up to the fridge door standing wide open. My mom finally got to looking and there was no reason it should have done that.
Not long after that my mom got the Beetle Juice doll with the pullstring from the Tim Burton movie 'Beetle Juice'. She was so proud of it that she hung it on the wall of the steps to the kitchen. When you first walked in the house you entered the den, to the right was the living room. My grandma said that the den was used as a wake parlor. The den was my playroom since I didn't have my own room. In the den there was a window from the bedroom over looking the room, it had wooden posts in the window. My grandmother told me it was used to view the body in the den. When I would play in there after my mom got the doll. I would see its shadow behind the curtain of the den/bedroom window. It would send me into a tizzy. My mom spent most of her time in the bedroom making hand made greeting cards. She would constantly assure me that Beetle Juice was not standing in the bedroom window and show me that he was still hanging on the wall. This did not soothe me. Because I knew what I saw. I saw the shadow on a regular basis.
Also in the bathroom it did not matter what time of day it was or time of night. My mom and I would sit in the bathroom and watch orbs of almost any color and size go from the pantry/laundry room (to the right of the bathroom) and into the bathroom and behind the wall of the toilet. I refused to go in their alone. I would frequently wet the bed because I was too terrified to go in there alone.
When I was older my mom told me that when my dad was growing up. A female cousin of his stayed the night and slept in the den. When they went in there the sheet she had been sleeping with was wrapped and knotted around her neck. I asked my grandmother about this and she said that the female cousin had been a suspect in my grandfather's murder.
Years after we moved out of the house my dad's sister rented it from my grandma. My dad's side of the family is mainly Native American and Hispanic. My aunt and three female cousins lived there. My aunt said she would hear my grandpa whispering angrily next to her bed or in the bedroom closet. That on many occasions the drawers would pull themselves out in the kitchen and dump themselves on the floor. One time this happened to my cousins. They watched it come out and turn upside down. Then drop to the floor. One day my aunt talked to my uncle about doing a smudging. They went outside on the front porch to talk about it. A few minutes later they heard a commotion and went inside the house was a wreck. Which only made them want to do a smudging more. When they did the smudging everyone heard my grandfather shout, "I'M NOT GOING TO LEAVE" after continuing the smudging, near the end they heard him say, "I see a light". After that there was no more activity.
SIDENOTE: In this house I also saw a lady standing in the living room doorway that my mom dreamed about, we saw her at the same time. Also saw an indention in my mom's hand where a chunk of it was taken out. She still has the scar.
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