True Ghost Story: Old Man In The Garden

Location: London, Ontario, Canada

The following report was sent into our website by Christina on Jan 18, 2013:

“Chris and I were renting a house on McNay Street. We were looking for a house with enough space for our dogs and ourselves. It had a pool as an added bonus, but even still the first time we looked at it, there was just something about it that made us say no. After some more consideration we relented and planned to move in. We had lots of help from friends moving in, and taking a break in the kitchen in typical ‘move in with friends fashion’ we gathered in the kitchen for a break, and beer. All of us in the kitchen, laughing joking ,making plans for the pool in the summer, when suddenly the patio doors flew open and shut again so fast and so unexpectedly, that everyone in the kitchen screamed, jumped or gasped. And then nothing. No activity near the patio doors, we all just stared at each other,
asking “what the hell was that.

A few days later in the evening, Chris and I were watching television. A green light appeared on the way and traveled all the way around the room before it disappeared. Seconds later another green light appeared, again traveling around the room. This time I asked Chris if he could see the green light, his reply was to ask me if I seen the first one too.

After settling in, Chris’s brother was a guest in our home, he is 22, always in the fridge. On one of his midnight raids, the fridge door opened and slammed shut just as he was about to touch the handle. This house made me and Chris miserable. We were horrible to each other when we lived there. We became the “horrible they always fight, neighbors”. It was really hard to live there.

One time our neighbor stopped Chris in the drive way for a chit chat, asked how we liked the house. Before Chris had time to reply with the obvious, he disclosed to Chris that the previous owner had been murdered by his son. He also told Chris that a suicide had also taken place.

This place had beautiful landscaping, it had seven different gardens. And there was this one bush that our dog always laid on. Chris dug it up one day, he wrecked the whole of one of those gardens, I don’t know why, when I ask him today, he can’t really answer. But we fought about it, loudly, in the yard. We said the most horrible things to each other.

Later in the day, about dusk, I went to sit on the back porch and have a cigarette. I sat down and scanned the yard, took in the gardens Chris didn’t work that day, and as I scanned my backyard, there he was, an old man in my yard. He was standing in the garden. He wasn’t there when I first sat down, but there he was, at the spot our dog used to lay. I tried to call Chris but it was impossible, my voice was gone, my words came out like squeaks. I was frozen. The old man just stood there, he didn’t look at me, not even once. He had work boots on, and dusty clothes. He just looked at the garden and then walked toward the shed and out of my line of vision. And when I couldn’t see him anymore I could scream, and of course there wasn’t anything in the yard, Chris checked, and so did the dogs, nothing.

A little girl came to our house to swim with her parents. She asked me why my house was so creepy, after she used the bathroom. Chris also noticed activity in the bathroom of that house. Initially every time Chris sat down to take care of business the toilet paper would slowly unravel all by itself. Freaking Chris out so bad we had to stop using the roller altogether.

There was no final show down with ghosts or anything. We enjoyed the pool. But when the owner of the house approached us about moving because his family was returning to Ontario, we were relieved to be free of our obligations there.

I’m not sure if ghosts travel. Chris and I split up for a while after living there. When we reconnected and moved into an apartment, the first morning after Chris went to the bathroom, he’s there, doing bathroom stuff, sitting, and he starts calling me. His voice was really unsure, unsteady. When I looked in the door, I could see it, the toilet paper, unraveling, all by itself. Again, just like I seen it before. I told Chris “I see it.” And then I spun the pulled toilet paper off the roller, and screamed “no, no ,no, get out of here, get out”.

And I don’t know what now, I hope my screaming worked, but I don’t know. We have never put the toilet paper back on the roller. We’ve been here almost a year.”

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