Scientific Minds Paranormal Investigators
(This is the third part of a three-part series. Be sure to checkout part one and part two.)
I remember one summer night very clearly. In the very early hours of the morning, a policeman parked his vehicle 60 feet away from my bedroom and diverted traffic onto my street to turn around.
The cursed corridor was closed that night.
It’s hard to sleep with red and blue flashing lights piercing through the mini blinds. I watched and wondered what had happened.
This is the continuation of my series of true stories which revolve around the haunted house I lived in on the east side of Indianapolis. None of these stories have been embellished in any way.
In part one of this series I mentioned the human visitors that seemed drawn to my house. I wouldn’t classify all of the visitors as bad; there were pleasant visitors as well.
One morning I awoke to find a puppy curled up on my front porch. Another morning I found a ferrel kitten which quickly ran away. Another evening it was an orange tabby that I named Karma. She became my faithful, loving companion while I lived there alone.
Then there were the strange visitors.
At times, it feels like my life has resembled an episode of Scooby Doo, minus the big revelation that old man Marley was at work behind the scenes the whole time. In life it seems, there are not many answers, only more questions.
As I alluded to in “It Was A Dark and Stormy Night,” I lived for 14 years in a house on the eastside of Indianapolis which had “no good reason” to be haunted, at least in so far as no one had died there. And yet the number of unexplanable incidents in that house made me a believer in the paranormal.
There was a dark, sad mystery looming over the area.
It was a warm, lovely night in August, 1994, the second night in a new house for my ex-husband and me. We had just completed an ardous move to Indiana from Virginia and managed to do all the first and most important steps to moving in: get the bed set up, put some of the kitchen together, buy some groceries. [Read more…]
Everyone, it seems, loves a good ghost story. Young or old, we all like to be scared or creeped out. As paranormal investigators we’ve all got more tales than the average Jane and Joe.
When people ask me, “Have you ever seen a ghost?” I tell them, “Yes.” They then usually ask, “Was it scary,” and I have to say, “actually it wasn’t, because I thought it was a real person…until I realized none of the members in our party were wearing white…and none of us had a big bow in our hair…and none were wearing a dress.”