I read The Hallway Man on Stumbleupon and found your website. We had a similar story. My wife and I took on side work to make ends meet. This was back in the 90’s. We set up a Painting and Cleaning service and put an ad in our local paper. An elderly lady wanted a bedroom cleaned out and fixed up. After work I drove over to take a look. I found out her husband had passed away and her adult children lived in other states. We walked down the hall towards the only closed door straight ahead. She’s talking the entire time but she was hard to understand. I noticed as we got near the door a lot of light came out around it. She opened the door. Instead of turning the knob and pushing the door open, she held the side of the door and looked in as if she was trying not to hit something. Then she pushed the door completely open. There was a landing at the bottom of the steps just big enough to get the door open. At the top of the stairs was a large window. The evening sun shining right in. To look directly up the stairs you are looking right into the sun. Going up I missed my step twice. Once in the room it seemed more like a finished attic. Boxes were thrown around and marked with their contents. There were stacks of clothing on top of boxes sturdy enough to hold them. Just on the other side of the stairs was a set of closets with the sliding doors. She wanted the room painted and cleaned. All the boxes were to be replaced with plastic totes and stacked into the closets. The room had hardwood floors which she would pay extra to fix the scratches and clean it up. This would be one of our easier jobs and I gave the elderly lady a reasonable price which she accepted immediately. We were both happy and started down the stairs. Almost to the landing I heard the sliding closet door bump the wall. The lady looked back at me and mumbled something but kept walking until we were in the hall. I noticed when she closed the door she locked it. The door knob was installed to lock from the outside.
Saturday morning we picked up our supplies and drove over to the house. The homeowner seemed anxious for us to get started. She looked at the supplies we purchased and was adamant that she paid us for them now. We thought it odd but accepted her early payment. We followed her towards the door which she opened carefully as not to hit something behind it like she had done before. Just as we cleared the door she closed it. Going up the steps even the daylight made it difficult to look directly into the window. With our attention on getting all our supplies up the stairs, a quick shadow passed through the light. My wife stopped and looked up towards the room. “Hello”, she said hoping for an answer. At the top of the stairs we go left into the room. The shadow was blown off as a bird flying by the window. The day went on, I had the edges and corners painted and my wife surprisingly had everything put into totes and the cloths hung in the closet. She mentioned the pictures that were in old round frames. The glass was round and bulged out with round wood frames. The picture was a boy, probably from the 1920’s or 30’s. We were done for the day and while we made our way down the stairs we both heard the same sound of the closet door closing against the wall. We both hurried out the door into the hall. There sat the lady. She seemed worried and asked if we were coming back. “Of course, we’re almost through and we will be back Sunday morning and be done by the afternoon”, I told her. She seemed surprised by my answer and repeated several times “Oh, thank you”, “Oh thank you”. We get in the truck and start backing out of the driveway and my wife gasps. She’s pointing up at the bedroom window and covering her mouth with her other hand. She said, “The little boy in the picture was looking out the window”. I told her it was a spooky house the first time I went in and the lady won’t say anything.
Sunday morning I called to make sure it was O.K. to come over and she agreed. The drive over my wife was silent. As we pulled into the driveway she sat up and focused on the bedroom windows. I told her it was O.K., she probably just saw a reflection of the clouds or trees the last time. Once again the lady opened the bedroom door as not to hit something behind it. My wife made sure to get behind me this time. Her hand never left the back of my shirt as we quietly walked up the stairs. The plan was for me to start rolling the paint on the walls and she will follow behind to clean up the floors so we can seal them last. We were going along when the closet door made the sound of it closing against the wall. We both looked over but nothing was there. She didn’t take her eyes off the closet. Every time I would stop to get paint on my roller her eyes were fixated on the closets. We finished the painting and wiping the floors down. All the tools and cleaning supplies were gathered up and we walked towards the steps. I stood in front of the closet doors to let her go down first. At the truck we put the materials away and got out the floor sealer, mops and buckets. A high gloss wax would make the floors look great while covering the surface scratches. We carried our supplies in and there stood the lady. She was unlocking the door for us even though we were only outside for a few minutes. After her door opening ritual we were on our final step to finish and get paid. I would pour the finish directly on the floor and we both mopped it around. We were going pretty good until the closet door hit the wall again. We were only feet from it and a few feet from completing our job at the top of the steps. It was too much for my wife. She went down the stairs and waited for me to finish the last small area of floor. I set the bucket on the first step as I finished the floor. That’s when my wife let out the same gasp as she did in the car. Both hands were over her mouth, she was white and her eyes looking in horror past me at the window. I was several steps down and turned to see a shadow of a little boy standing right in front of me. We were eye to eye for just that moment. He walked away into the closet doors. They made the sound of the doors closing but they didn’t move. My wife was already out in the hall before I could comprehend what just happened. I walked out in shock. I couldn’t put words together. We were out at the truck and all we could do was look at each other. The lady came out and gave me cash. I told her I didn’t have change. She said, “its O.K. you’re the first one to stay and finish that room. God Bless You”. As we backed out of the driveway my wife stared up at the window. In a faint whisper that almost sounded like relief she said, “Goodbye little boy”…
Something about sitting at my drawing table feels like it attracts a presence. While I’m drawing, my small crowd gathers. I thought this would be a good place to set my new devices. My old camera records video but it has to be set up each time and doesn’t record long even with a 64gb flash drive and a new battery. The EMF reader does pick up electrical fields. I’ve walked around the house and put it to outlets, ceiling fans and the air conditioners. It does work. The digital voice recorder picks up everything. Just the few minutes I had it running it was difficult to distinguish background noises with body movements.
The EMF reader has been on my desk for a few days. On Wednesday evening I checked everything around my table to see if it put off a reading. Both lamps, which are the closes, didn’t pick up anything. I set the meter down and forgot to turn it off. A few minutes into trying out colors on a drawing the meter flickered. It was two small lights and beeps. They weren’t chattering and I’m pretty sure it was the first male, the older man. As usual he took his spot on my left side. On Thursday, my day off, I tried it again. A few minutes into the drawing and the EMF flickered. This was around 11am, the night before it was in the evening around 7pm. There’s no set time. Saturday afternoon around 2:30ish I set it up again. Nothing was going on the entire time. That was good because I was concentrating and got things done. I sat back to see if that’s what I wanted. Staring at the picture, instantly to the right directly in front of me a transparent wave of air about 5′ up. The EMF makes one loud solid beep and the light turns full glowing red. I sat and watched for a moment. Nothing.
Today I’m going to complete a drawing. Everything will be set up and waiting.
In our neighborhood there wasn’t any crime. We could run around at all hours and not be afraid. That’s what would happen when we told our parents we were camping out in someones back yard. I met “K” from our little league baseball team. The first time I entered his house, I noticed all the family. There was a lot of them. What stuck out the most was the door area going to the basement. It had a darkness to it. There were several rooms in the basement, a bedroom/bathroom and a large open room. It was always dark and we never went in there. It wasn’t off limits, more like avoided.
We camped out in his tent in the back yard a few times in the summer. It was fall when I stayed over night and we slept inside. He had a trundle bed. I slept on the lower part that night. A night light in the bathroom lit up the hall. Not bright but enough to make out the other bedroom and closet door shapes. The furnace kicked on and warm air blew in my face. I woke up and moved back from the edge of the bed. At the same time someone walked past the bedroom going towards the bathroom. There wasn’t any sound. I’m still looking out at the hall. A shadow man walked into the bedroom doorway and stood there. It was just a figure, no face. I noticed he didn’t touch the floor. His legs fade out as they reached the knees. There was a transparency, I could make out the door to the bedroom behind him. He just stood there for a moment. He turned and walked towards the living room. I heard the doorknob to the basement snap closed.
This was about the time I was learning to never say anything. It wasn’t a good time in life to be made fun of any more than they already did. A few years later we were on the country roads drinking beer. The girls with us said they were scared being out there. Keith then started talking about the ghost man that use to look in his bedroom. How he walked passed then came back to look in. He described exactly what I saw almost 10 years earlier.
I sat down here to watch TV, something I rarely do. A computer is connected as an HTPC. Watching TV for about 15 minutes was enough. Turning the computer on and surfing my bookmarks on a larger screen is cool from the couch. Out of nowhere someone said something. I turned the volume down and turned my head to get a better idea where it came from. It wasn’t clear if it came from the computer or outside. Back to surfing, the volume was up just a little. I heard it again. A mumble but very distinct. I turned the sound down and listened. Trying to relax and clearing my mind I wanted to hear this voice or the sound I thought was a voice. Completely and clearly I heard “(mumble)…ain’t drawing”. The second male voice, the minor spirit chatter that mumbles, is coming through. He’s alone. The female, child and major male I can’t hear. This was completely out of nowhere. I wasn’t trying to do anything to interact or listen this time. He came to me.
I sat up and muted the volume. After several minutes of total silence I sat back. It felt like someone was in the room. I could really feel the presence. Something made me look at the bottom landing of the stairs. Just as I looked, a blurry wind type figure went up the steps. This was followed by what sounded like two light foot steps in the back bedroom (the computer room). This is also the same room with the active closet. Just as everything got quiet the mumbled word “draw” came through. I haven’t sketched anything for a few days, I’m wondering now if the this minor male has something to tell me. Maybe he’s entertained by my inability to draw anything.
At 6:20 am it felt like someone standing next to my bed behind me. I raised my head and as I turned to look a shadow like figure walked past the TV and out of the room. I’m downstairs having coffee now. It sounds like someone’s at the top of the steps waiting for me to come back up…
I’ve always heard another dimension of life other than ours in the background. It’s just another part of all the daily noises. I’ve learned to tune it out, but will listen sometimes. Where I live now is a quiet area. I get a good sense of my surroundings just by the sounds. Lately, what has usually been tuned out, I have been listening too, trying to learn why I hear this when no one else does. Why have I been chosen to hear these things? Why me?
This “Gift” has had an impact on how I have grown up. Hearing the far off comments behind my back. Seeing the looks I got. Remembering the people who were once my friends. All of this has cultivated me into this person. What I remember the most through all the years are people that have nothing in common with each other stating I stare off looking at nothing. That was better than telling them I’m listening to something they can’t hear. I learned to never talk about it.
I tried to put together a recording of what I hear. It’s not exact but just to give you an idea. Mostly it’s mumbling conversations. Occasionally words or sentences. Sometimes it sounds like a different language or an AM Radio frequency. Click HERE to listen.
My high school girl friend “D” and I were very close.We were alike in a lot of ways. Hanging out doing nothing was our best times, we just enjoyed each others company. I never mentioned “the gift” to her. She had always put off a golden green aura, even years later when we had gotten back together just to hang out. “D” and I always seemed to start where we left off no matter how long we were apart.
One afternoon “D” and I were high and just hanging out in my bedroom. This is the same room upstairs I’ve talked about in earlier stories. The phone rang and I went down to the kitchen to get it. My bedroom was set up so the bed faced the window. If a car drove past or someone walked by outside, the shadows would follow around three walls of the room. When I got back to the room “D” was sitting at the foot of my bed. I asked her what she was doing. She said she was watching the shadow going back and forth under the window. I didn’t say anything, we just sat back and watched…