I was working outside this morning before it got too hot. Behind me I heard the faint calling of my name. There stood one of the residents with a funny look on her face. She wanted to tell me something but it was obvious she didn’t want it to come out wrong. Several times she stopped herself mid-sentence with, “no, never mind”. This is a lady that’s ultra conservative. She’s quiet and polite to everyone. She watches fox news and was distraught I’m for Bernie Sanders (he’s a socialist, ya’ know). I’ve heard her mention her god in public conversations and never once have I heard her say anything bad towards anyone. But, I know she wanted to say something that goes against everything she believes in just by the way she was acting. So I blurted it out, “What did you see?”. Her face had this sudden look of relief. She asked me if things have gone on there. (At the building) I told her a lot of people have died here and they leave things behind. She wanted to know what I knew. I told her about the second floor hall and library and even a home healthcare aid has some things she’s witnessed. After a few minutes trying to get her to trust me and talk to me she finally said she woke up on the couch and in front of her was the cloudy image of a black man. She asked if he was an angel. Nothing was said and when she closed her eyes for a moment he was gone. I was blown away because I’ve heard the voice of a black man on the second floor. She said she was afraid. I told there’s nothing to be afraid of, that’s just the TV that puts fear into your mind. I wanted to hear more but she was really uncomfortable talking about it. She kept saying forget it and don’t tell anyone she said anything. The elevator doors opened and she turned and said “They turned my pictures face down”. I told her it was O.K. and I wanted to know more but she was obviously ashamed she said anything. I, on the other hand, felt totally vindicated once again. I’ll get more out of her…
Note: she moved into a unit the lady before her had passed away in.
For a while I lived above an old diner. It was built around 1920. This place had a life of it’s own, you could feel the past still alive inside. At night when the diner closed you could still sense someone was inside. The hallway to get to my door was long and narrow. Occasionally it would feel like someone walked by me as I unlocked my door, the air moved. At times you just knew someone was right in front of you, staring, ready to confront you. I always entered through the back of the building. Two flights of metal stairs. Going up, they watched. I was the new guy. The one that wasn’t excited about the diner atmosphere. The one you would only get a hello out of if you were lucky. They watched me coming up. They moved out into the hall, silent but present. One place I never went was down the front steps that lead out to the street. There was a heavy feeling to those steps. Something happened at the bottom, something bad and it was still there. This dark place never lit up no matter how bright the sun was or how much light would shine on it. I remember taking this photo the day I moved out. It was late at night, around 10:00 pm. The apartment was left just as I had found it except for a few bumps on the walls. Loading up the last bit of my belongings I looked up to the windows. They were watching, waiting. Someone new will come along, just like I did.
Walking through the park today, a dog pulling it’s owner came up to me. We’ve said hello before in passing. We stopped and talked a few moments about the holidays. It’s not a subject I care to talk about but the dog seemed content with me giving her attention. As we talked, something I’ve seen countless times flash in front of me, a shadow bird. The dog reacted to it but the gentleman seemed unphased like nothing happened. As if he didn’t see anything. The dog’s eyes moved as she watched it disappeared. She opened her mouth for a breath and nudged my hand for more attention.
I’ve never read anything about shadow birds. There’s a lot of literature on shadow people. It’s common knowledge. But the birds, I’ve seen this flash inside the house as well as outside. I’ve heard birds as much as I’ve heard the spirit chatter. The few times it’s happened directly in front of me, it was definitely an opaque black bird. I’ve had experiences with birds. Sparrows come around me a lot. Like I’m a curiosity to them. They’ve walked up to me and what seemed like I was being studied. They’ve landed on my deck handrail and watched as I stared back at them. Here at my new place, the back patio attracts them around the privacy fence where they watch me through the window.
I’ve only owned one bird. A white parakeet. It would sit on the outside of it’s cage and go back in to eat. Rarely did it leave it’s perch on the top of the cage. If I got up it made all kinds of noises and flapped around. On a Saturday afternoon it was sunny and warm. The front door was open letting in the midwinter sun. The parakeet flew directly into the glass storm door and landed lifeless on the rug. Coldheartedly I picked it up, wrapped it in paper towels and threw it away. Around this time, mid 1980’s, the flashes started. It took a few years until I realized the connection.
A lady I dated had a parrot. He was housed in a huge cage. When I would come over to her place the parrot would puff up the feathers on his head and raise his wings. This was followed by loud screaming that wouldn’t stop until I left. She said he only does that when I come around. I tried to feed him to show I’m friendly but if I got up to the cage he jumped to the bottom and hid in the back.
Some of the other experiences I’ve had with birds are the owl and falcon. The woods behind me have a deer trail I decided to follow. Once back a ways I found a clearing and sat on a log to get the burr’s off me. The overwhelming feeling of being watched created a mild form of paranoia to set in. Looking around as I cleaned up there wasn’t anything or anyone. That’s until I stood up and looked directly into the eyes of a well camouflaged owl sitting in the tree in front of me. The huge yellow eyes glared straight back into my eyes. I looked down to walk back out and as I made my way into the woods the owl seemed to relax in a non-offensive stance. I turned to look and he returned my glance before fading back into his tree.
The falcon came out of nowhere. The trees where I use to live had grown over the sidewalks. The shaded walks made it a nice place in summer sun. Rarely did I ever see my neighbors which made a morning walk very quiet and peaceful. On occasion I would see the falcon perched on the peak of the roof, he would fly off effortlessly. One morning on my walk I saw a bird in the distance, the sun reflecting off it as it got closer I could tell it was the golden color of the falcon. Flying lower than I’ve ever seen him, he flew under the cover of the shade trees following the sidewalk. Once under the trees his wings didn’t move once. He glided directly over me in a deafening silence. Not once did he look at me as he passed over my head. He reached the end of the shade trees and like smoke he faded upwards out of sight.
I came home early today. All I wanted to do was finish sleeping. As soon as I walked in I went to bed. Exactly at noon the Wednesday Noon sirens went off. I woke up around 2:30 ready to do something. I moved my furniture away from the baseboard heat for the winter. Rearranging my layout put the front door to my left instead of behind me. One of my computers is connected to the TV and this is where I sat. The first time I saw this my nerves alerted my body into intensity. Starting to stand up to defend myself, out of the left of my eyesight a man came rushing through the front door hallway. It was real enough to get a reaction out of me and very unexpected because of the natural movement he made. Nothing was there. Laughing that I spooked myself, I went into a quiet afternoon haze watching documentaries online. Then it happened again. The exact same movement in the hall coming right at me. This was too real and for the second time my heart was racing. It’s been several hours since the last time I’ve seen this. I hope to catch this in a photo…
I’m cleaning up my paint brushes and trays. I saw a shadow move from the kitchen as I entered. The room was a lot cooler than the living area. At the sink I feel someone behind me, they moved from right to left. As I looked to my left I hear “ishawa” whispered to the right of me. Quickly I looked to my right and I feel a cold brush of air on my left arm. Floating down from the ceiling is this black hair fiber thing. It looked like a hair until I examined the picture. It appears to be a fiber up close. The voice was the first female I’ve always heard. Her and the second male have been near recently but not too vocal.
At 4:14 am I thought I had hit the night stand with my hand. I’ve done it before so I just moved away. At the same time I heard a female laugh, like a giggle. The T.V. was on but the sound was turned down to low to hear anything. Falling back to sleep I heard the female laugh like she was right next to me. My eyes opened just in time to see a figure in the mirror walking out the bedroom door beside me. I got up and as usual there wasn’t anything except a heavy smell of scented hand lotion, the real heavy thick smell like Jergens. Now that I’m up getting ready for work the odor is still here, even downstairs.
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”…