My best friend from childhood died in a car accident just two days after his seventeenth birthday. It happened on the morning of prom, the night we were supposed to go together.
Even after all these years, I still feel his presence. Sometimes, I catch the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air, or I feel the weight of someone sitting on my bed when no one is there. It’s been twenty years now, but he hasn’t really left.
My grandmother passed away in 2008, when I was pregnant with my daughter. She never got to meet her, but one day, she came to visit us. Dressed in white like an angel, she stood before me. At first, I was afraid, but then a deep sense of peace settled over me. My daughter, only three at the time, saw her too. I know she’s always with us.
I have always been sensitive to energy, able to feel the presence of both good and bad spirits. Sometimes, I even hear voices whispering in the quiet moments. Losing so many people, especially during high school, made those years feel heavy, like a never-ending sadness.
But losing my best friend was the worst pain of all. The thought that he was supposed to be there, with me at prom, still lingers in my heart. Yet, I know he hasn’t truly left me. I feel him, smell his scent in the air, and hear his laughter in my memories. I will carry him with me forever.
My grandmother was the best—wild, funny, and always up for Jell-O shots. But she was also mischievous. I swear, she plays tricks on us even now. Things disappear and then reappear days or weeks later. Sometimes, I talk to both of them, my best friend and my grandmother. It might sound strange to some, but for me, it brings comfort.
One night, I was out with friends, visiting an old cemetery people said was haunted. We were curious, drawn to the mystery of it. The road leading there was quiet, almost too quiet, with only the sound of leaves whispering in the wind.
When we arrived, the gates were locked, but that didn’t stop us. We parked and slipped inside. The moonlight cast long shadows over the tombstones, making them seem like figures frozen in the dark. As we walked, reading the names on the stones, an unsettling feeling washed over me. It felt like someone was watching us.
Then, my friend gasped and pointed. A small shadow moved across the road. We all saw it. My skin prickled with chills.
We rushed back to our cars. As we sped down the road, the other car suddenly screeched to a stop. We pulled up beside them, and they told us they had heard something hit the back of their car.
We got out to check. What we saw made our blood run cold—small handprints smeared on the trunk, like a child had touched it. That’s when we realized the shadow we saw wasn’t just our imagination.
A deep fear settled over us. Something was lurking in the dark, watching us. We didn’t speak. We just jumped back into our cars and drove away as fast as we could.
Even now, I can’t explain what we saw that night. Was it a lost spirit? Or something else? Whatever it was, I will never forget it