My experience with the unknown started when I was in high school, but it only happened once. When I went to college, I applied as working student and was assigned at the Biology Dept. It was located at the 5th floor of a San Jose building. My first encounter happened during my training period. While cleaning the counter area, I freaked out when suddenly the polisher moved on its own and blocked my way. I screamed and jumped backward away from it. I called my colleagues for help. That time, my whole body went cold and couldn't move. Then Mike and the others went out of the office upon hearing me and asked what happened. I told them and he just laughed. To prove that I wasn't lying, I touched the control and tried to turn it off but it didn't stop. That's the time Mike ran towards the outlet and grabbed the wire and it's the only time the polisher stopped. Another experience; it was my first semester in the university and it was my turn to be the opener. Since there was a 7am class, I have to be there ahead of the faculty. I usually arrived earlier than 6 am or exactly at 6. When I got there, I would open all the gates and doors of the department and classroom before I go to one of the faculty rooms where I was assigned to clean. Every time I did the cleaning, I could always hear that someone's also cleaning the upper drawing room on the 6th floor because of the dragging sound and falling down of the chairs. It happened several times but I didn't freak out until I asked 'manong' (janitor) the person who was assigned to clean the drawing room above the faculty out of curiosity. He said that would be impossible, somebody would clean the rooms so early in the morning because no one would be doing that. They do all the cleaning before they go home every night. Upon hearing that, I couldn't explain the fear I felt because all those time I was alone on that floor and since then, I would arrived at the university at 6:45 in the morning. It didn't stop there. Bizarre things continued to happen while I was still serving the department. I could hear a stool being dragged at 6pm in laboratory rooms, lights and fans turned on and off, door banging or being opened even if we locked it already, something heavy fall in the Instrument room and every time we checked it, there's nothing there. We also experienced seeing a shadow passed in front of us. And during my last day in that department, while watering the plants in the botanical garden, I hear a child crying three times. I asked my colleagues if they hear it or if one of them was crying and they said no. My fellow working students have different experiences in that department. Every working student in the university has really something to say about their respective departments, not just us. The experience of the unknown made me realized that in this world we're never alone.

I read stories about a person being copied by a spirit (at least that is the best way to define them). So I will share my story-yet I was not really the one who got copied or physically experienced it. I used to live in La Union, Philippines in an apartment. We had a billiard house business back then. We owned at least 12 billiard tables. The billiard house was located in front of my apartment, so it was walking distance, approximately 3 minutes walk. Around six in the evening, my Tito Lito (uncle Lito in English) decided to go clean the billiard tables for the next day. He was probably there more than an hour. When he was there, he started to clean the tables on the left wing of the billiard house (each wing has 6 tables), then he went to the right wing to clean the other six, when he got into the right wing, he saw my grandpa cleaning the billiard sticks. He greeted my grandpa a good evening, yet he didn't get any verbal response (he usually says something) but just a nod. He could care less why my grandpa didn't say anything so he went back in the apartment and right when he walked in the door, he saw my grandpa sleeping on his rocking chair beside me. As far as I can remember he looked shocked, then he asked me a weird question: "How long have he been here?" After hearing his question, it got me confused so I just plainly answered, "He has been helping me with my homework for the past 2 hours." Right after I answered his question, he turned completely red and walked into the kitchen on a rushing motion, where my grandma and his wife were cooking. On dinner time, he told us what happened when we are all in the table. He also added that when he saw my grandpa, he had black slacks and a light blue polo on. Yet, now he was wearing shorts and a tank top. From that time on, he never went to the billiard house by himself. I would think he is crazy, but there have been other people who experienced weird scenarios in our billiard house and our apartment building. I, myself, have had weird experiences at my old place but that is a different story.

Firstly I am the first grandchild in our very big family. I was the one who got whatever I wanted. My mom says family members would come around and take me out without asking her or my dad. I would always be taken back home with new clothes on, or toys. The grand mother and her sister absolutely adored me. They would come over to our house just to see me-really sweet. My grandmother's sister died in 2001. The incident I am going to tell you about happened almost 2 hours after she passed away. I remember going downstairs into the living room and looking at the clock on the wall. It showed 7.30p.m. I turned around to my ex-mother-in-law and said in half an hour there will be call from the hospice to say she has passed away. With that, I remember going into the front room and watching a film with my children. Well dead on eight, the phone rang. It was my aunt, who broke the news of my grandmother's sister passing away. My poor mother and father-in-law's faces were a sight. My aunt and uncle picked me up and whilst my aunt sat quietly in the car my uncle and I were having a really good laugh. We even got told off by my aunt. We got to the hospice and whilst we were looking for parking, a black cat walked past the car, my aunt was not at all impressed, me and my uncle could not help but to crack some spooky jokes. We had to calm ourselves before we went into the hospice which we managed to do the minute we stepped into the hospice. The three of us walked slowly to the room where maci (mum's sister) was and of course all the close family. I remember going into the room, going to the bed, the sons all looked at me and each one of them touched my head, a blessing in Indian tradition. I remember my grandmother's face, she was broken. You could see she was going to give up on life as well, both sisters were very close. I said my farewells and really just wanted to go. We left the hospice about 10p.m. My uncle dropped me home. As soon as I entered the house, I went straight upstairs for a shower. I made sure the kids were asleep and let the in-laws know I was back and went to my bedroom. I switched on the lamp, drew the curtains. I got into my T-shirt and sat on the bed. I felt weird which was understandable losing a close relative. I got into bed, left the lamp on. I was tempted to put the radio on but could not be asked to get back out of bed. I was lying in my bed staring at the ceiling trying to sleep but just could not knock off. I lay there for you know what seems like forever, but it is only 2 minutes that was what it was like for me that night. I always sleep on the outside of the bed, never against the wall, something to do with me being claustrophobic. I was lying in my bed, staring, thinking, having flashbacks, tossing turning. I am sure you have all had nights when you seem to be swimming in your own bed desperate for sleep and sleep will just not come. Well as I said it was one of those nights. I don't know if I managed to get comfortable but lying on my back staring at the ceiling I felt the corner of the right side of the bed sink, like someone sitting has just sat down-the right side being against the wall. I lay in my bed, I turned my head slightly to face the corner of the bed and there dressed in black, head to toe, a woman sitting there with her face buried in hands crying softly. I just lay in my bed staring at her. She just sat there crying, she did not move from where she was sitting. I got up slowly so I was sitting up in bed all the time keeping my eyes on her. I can't even tell you what I was feeling and it was not as if I could not move because I could, I had just sat up in my bed. I sat there staring at her for a while how long exactly I cannot say. I got out of the bed slowly. I slid my legs out first really slowly, so now I was sitting on the bed, my eyes on her all the time, then slowly I stood up. The funny thing is, instead of walking straight towards the doors like a normal person, I got out of the bed and stayed facing the woman so I was in fact walking toward the bedroom door walking like a crab, side ways so I could make sure this woman was not going to move. I got to the door opened it and ran downstairs. I told my mother-in-law what had happened. She was totally freaked out about the phone call so this freaked her out even more. I told my mum and grand mother what had happened; they did not say anything they only looked at each other. A year after my Grandmother's sister passed my grandmother died. The two sisters were really close-my grandmother gave up on life the night her sister passed away. My grand mother has appeared in my dreams a few times but that is another story.

Looking back I have to wonder if it was a dream or if it was real. Let's say it felt very real. I've been hugged by many people in my life, but not like that. It definitely had a sense of "forever" about it. And the fact it came from my dead father only made it more meaningful. Dad took sick in 1999 and spent the rest of his life struggling to deal with his health issues; he died in February 2001. He was a usually stout, independent man who prided himself in taking care of others. When he was reduced to a mere shell of his former self, my heart went out to him, but to me he was still my faithful protector. After he died, a bit of me died, too. I missed him so much. I had seen him nearly everyday and knew his time was running out. I hate to admit it but I wanted to run away from what was coming. It hurt so much. Then a few weeks after he passed away, I had the most vivid dream (?) I have ever had. I was sitting at a table with two chairs in a white room with no windows, only a door. At first, I wondered why I was there. I didn't have a clue where I was. I wanted to leave, but all of a sudden the door opened and my Dad walked in, dressed in the clothes he was buried in. Time stood still for a moment. He walked over to the table and sat down. It was wonderful to see him again. He looked like his old self, not frail from his ordeal. He smiled at me and I felt happy. I said, "I wish I was with you." He looked me straight in the eyes and said, "No you don't." No other words were spoken. He got up from the table. I knew he had to go. I walked around to him and he hugged me so hard I thought my ribs would break. It was the best feeling in the world. I didn't want to let go and when I did, I was lying in my bed. I looked around the room, but he wasn't there. My body could still feel the squeeze from his arms. I thought about what he meant to me and that I was so glad he let me know what I meant to him.

When I was younger, around seven or eight, my mom's husband bought a house on the outskirts of Muncie, Indiana near the old Ball family mansion. It was built around the 1900's on an Indian burial ground. It was huge and even had a tennis court and a pool/pool house, but it was pretty cheap because it had been vacant for two years and was pretty rundown. Our house was previously owned by an old women and her husband. Before them, it was owned by the woman's family who had been pretty wealthy. The actress that the movie, "Mommy Dearest" was based on even stayed in our house once. The woman had died in the house in the master bedroom, and her husband had died in a plane crash. The old servant quarters were now apartments and a man named Jack had lived in one when the old couple were still alive. He informed us that the couple were now buried in the woods behind the house because they loved it there so much. He also told us that a little boy had drowned in the pool during the 1920's. Even though I was little, I was very interested in the history of the house. That is, until all the weird things started happening. When we first moved in, my mom and I had been sitting in the sun room when we kept smelling really strong old woman's perfume. We looked everywhere but couldn't really seem to tell where it was coming from. Nothing else really happened until a few weeks later. My room was on the end of the house and you had to go through a hallway and another room to get to it. My room was also the only room in the house that had carpet. The stairs curved and led into the hallway. Then there were French doors you had to open in order to get into the other part of the hallway and the other room which lead to mine. My bed was faced towards the door so I could see into the other room. At night, I would always hear heavy footsteps walking up and down the stairs. Then they would go into the hallway through the doors and enter the other room. One night was really horrible because I heard them coming through the other room, and then when it entered my room it stopped. I could hear a faint breathing noise. Sometimes I would go get my mom but she would tell me I was just imagining things, even though later on she admitted she heard things all the time, too. Most of the time, I would just hide under my covers and cry. When I was on summer vacation one year my mom would sometimes leave me home alone so she could go to the grocery or the gas station, something along those lines. I would always see weird black things out of the corner of my eye when I was sitting watching tv in the living room, but when I would turn to look it would be gone. One time, when I was completely alone in the house, I heard something moving upstairs. When I muted the tv, I heard loud heavy thumping and then heaving footsteps moving quickly back and forth through the hallway and the master bedroom. I was never really terrified to the point where I thought they were going to harm me. I'm pretty sure they were just curious to see who had moved into their beloved house. Towards the end before my mom and my step-dad got a divorce, I had a few friends over to the house. We went down in the basement which had a old coal burner, another room with a giant safe that was broken, a steam room, and the laundry room. My friends and I were pretty curious about the coal burner, so we opened it up and found a ton of old newspaper clippings and animal bones, which was pretty odd. Another weird thing that happened was that we always used to smell tobacco smoke, like someone was smoking a huge pipe. When we told Jack about it, he said the husband who had died in the plane crash always walked around with a giant pipe in his mouth. Even though I moved out of that house I will never forget my experiences there. I am just thankful that our ghosts were nice ones and not there to harm us! I was wondering if anyone else has ever smelled anything out of place in their houses and if that is common?