Ray

Hey there Edi, Nick, and the Uglies 💖

I recently found your podcast, which led me to become a member here. I have experienced hauntings and the paranormal nearly my whole life.. But I figured I'd just share a "quick" story.


I grew up a hippie kid, traveling with my parents for the first 3 years of my life, when my parents settled we lived in Vegas.

A few years later my mother found out that her father had cancer, and we moved into her (my mothers) family home. A large yellow house, in the middle of the block built in 1908. The home has a basement, first, second, and third floor. This is where it all starts.


I've always described the street as one from a horror movie..ya know? The kind where you can be running down the street screaming for help and not a single person opens their door..

Well, when we moved in, my grandpa and his wife were living on the first floor. My uncle, aunt, and two female cousins lived on the second floor. And my mother, father, sister and I lived on the third floor.

A few years into this my grandpa died while my family was on a weekend trip to Virginia Beach. I woke up in the middle of the night, crying because I knew my grandpa was gone. But as I realized my family was still asleep I muffled my crying just in time for my mom's cell phone to ring (one of those big walkie talkie looking Motorola's from back in the day) She wakes out of her sleep to the call that her father had died. I don't know how I knew, but I did.

When we made it back to the house and started funeral arrangements.The cancer had decomposed my grandpa to the point where we were unable to have a open casket. My mother was so regretful due to the fact that she was not only gone for his death, but when she was 16, she also had left the home on the day that her mother had died. I found out that my grandma, had died in the room of the house right above the room that my grandpa passed away in (she died of unknown causes during a nap).


I had a feeling, however, that neither of them were truly gone.

At this point my grandpa’s wife moved out, and my aunt and uncle bought their own home. My mother bought the family home out from her 5 siblings, and this is where I grew up. My mother and father took over my grandma's old room on the second floor. My sister's shared a different room on the second floor, and there was another that was vacant but I refused. The attic/3rd floor was mine.

But I didn't understand what that would mean at the time.

I would often feel as if someone was watching me. Cold spots would come over me, and being sensitive in the way that I am I knew that it wasn't trying to hurt me… But it was still weird.

I would call out "hey there, your creeping me out, can you please leave" and things of that sort.. Whenever I did, the feelings seemed to subside. I thought this may be my grandma, (since I had never met her, and it didn't feel like my grandpa) but that still felt wrong.

During my thirteenth birthday party, we had a sleep over. It was about 6 of my girlfriends, and my one brother-like best friend Jake..who my parents made sleep in the first floor living room.

At some point during the night I made it a point to go downstairs, get Jake, and bring him up to the room. He made himself comfortable laying next to me, offset to the left of my bedroom door.


(For context my father was an angry man, and he had broken my door off the frame, but I kept it, and would lean it into the doorframe with the bottom out farther so it wouldn't fall into the room).

We were all talking and taking turns drinking from a 1/8th full bottle of Jose Cuervo that I had stolen from our first floor pantry. As we all were talking, Jake brought up a story about something that I had done a few weeks before and he jokingly called me a b*tch. Not a moment sooner did my door fall (but in a sense and fastness of being pushed) straight into him, hitting him in the head pretty hard.

"WTF!?" He exclaimed..

I thought this was pretty odd especially due to the fact that he was not even the one sitting directly in front of the door.. I was.

Now, all of my friends were creeped out. Leading up to this, all of my friends already didn't like my house. At night they'd always make me walk down to the second floor bathroom with them, or would come out of my room whenever I did, and things of that sort. So this was kind of a big deal. Jake decided he would sleep on the first floor.

I walked him downstairs and left him on the couch with the TV on. Nothing else happened that night.

After my friends had left, I talked to my mom about what had happened. We were best friends, I told her everything, and she seldom got upset with me. But as I told her the story, her face kind of went blank.

She told me that "he" mustn't of liked when Jake called me a bitch.. That "he' has protected the women of our family for a long time.

I was confused? Who is "he" if my grandpa has only been gone two years??


She elaborated that "there was a man who died on the third floor pressing weights, they came down on his throat and he couldn't get back up, before my grandparents bought the house, and he looked out for the women of our family" Just so happened to die in the room above the room my grandma died in. She said that everyone had a story about him.


I began looking into this..


Speaking to my aunt that moved out of the house, ”yeah, when I was a teenager my boyfriend came upstairs and we were arguing.

my stand alone coat rack flew down on top of him.

He said he would never come back in the house...and he didn’t.

We broke up shortly after".


Her oldest daughter took over the room. She said she always felt as if she was being watched, and that her radio would come on randomly.. So she moved down to the second floor, which is why the third floor was vacant, until we moved in..

now after finding these stories out I was curious.. what is his name? How old was he? Was he actually looking out for us?

I talked two of my closet girl friends into doing a seance.

I created a Ouija board on a piece of cardstock, with the intention of only speaking to my third floor spirit.I said things like "no evil spirits are welcome here, you are not allowed" and hoped that would be enough to protect us and give us a chance to talk to the spirit I actually wanted to talk to. I couldn't find anything else, so we flipped a shot glass around and used that to as the reader/push around thing.


We asked if anyone was there.

Yes.

We asked a name..

Ray.

Age?

20.

Are you protecting my family?

Women.

Do you follow me?

Yes.

Did you die in this room?

"Across" was the answer.

The third floor was split into two rooms so he was saying he died in the room across from mine, which we used as storage. He said he was good. I felt like I had gotten enough information and he allowed us to say goodbye. Then I burned the board and my friends and I stayed up a bit longer and fell asleep, saying goodnight to Ray.

After this, I felt more comfortable now that I knew his name. I would still get cold chills, and the feeling of being watched and just simply say things like "hey Ray, can you leave me alone/your creeping me out" etc. He would always leave when asked.

One day I was sitting on my bed reading Cosmo (around 15 at this point) and I felt him sit next to me, cold chills as always..But this time, when I looked over from my magazine there was a butt print sitting next to me.Same way as if you put your butt in snow and got up. This was the first time he had ever physically manifested any type of form even though I could still not see him.. and not gonna lie, this time it kinda freaked me out..

I said hey Ray can you please get up!? And it did. Ok...fine.

Over the next year or so he got louder. Sometimes at night, while everyone was asleep, the drum set in the (storage/death) room across from mine would start playing. Me, being comfortable, would get up and swing the door open, wondering if it was a animal, or if I'd be able to see whatever it was.Every time the drums would stop as soon as I opened the door.

A friend didn't believe me, she came over and it happened! She became hysterical, bawling her eyes out she called her mom to come pick her up around 2:30 am. She didn't come over for a long time afterwards, and I don't think she ever spent the night again.

For me, this was normal, but for others I guess it was too much.

I should probably end the story here, even though it's not even close to the end of what happened/happens in this house.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post, hopefully I can post some additional stories over time.

We'll just call this "Part One”.


(MEMORIES FROM MY CHILDHOOD EPISODE)

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