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The Mischievous Spirit | A Visit From Grandpa | My Scaredy Cat


I was about 14 or 15 years old and on this day I was home with my Mother. Our house was a two-story house with the garage, family room and one bedroom downstairs. Upstairs had the other rooms. There were two short flights of stairs and a landing in the middle that went to the front door. When you walked down the last flight of stairs you ended up in the little hallway, just to the left was the door to the garage, and to the right and straight ahead was the door to the Family Room, which was My Room, and just to the right was a the door to a small closet. When you entered the Family Room aka My Room, straight ahead was the Sliding Door to the Backyard and to the left was the door to my Brother's Room. So it kinda sucked that you had to go through my room to get to his. Although his room was cool cause it was secluded, but the closet had the water heater, and when the heater was on, it would get hot and stuffy as hell in there. I have asthma, so I couldn't sleep in there at all.

This was a normal summer day in Daly City, cold and foggy. I spent most of my time upstairs in the Living Room watching TV and in the Kitchen eating. Sometimes I would run down to my room to get or do things. This once instance I went down to my room and my door was closed. That didn't really seem strange, but I never close my door unless I'm in there. But I didn't think about it until about the third time I went to my room. Then I thought Ok, I know I reminded myself specifically to leave the door open. Now it's getting kinda weird, oh well, back upstairs to my TV and food I go.

Of course I had to go back downstairs again this time the door was once again closed, I grabbed the door knob to turn it and walk in, then I slammed my head into the door What the Fuck? Locked? Now I was pissed off, I unlocked the door with my fingernail and walked in steaming mad.

I started to yell "Ok, I don't know who the fuck or what the fuck you are, but you better stop that shit, cause I'm hella pissed off now. Leave my fucking door open!"

My Mom starts yelling at me,"Who are you yelling at?"

I respond, "Nobody Mom, just myself, I hit my head on my door"

The thing about my door is that it locks from the inside, you can use your fingernail or a screwdriver on the outside, but it does take some energy either way. Even though I had the sliding door in my room, there was no breez coming through the house, cause I'm always wearing shorts, and I would know if there was a breeze. So somebody or some thing had to had closed and locked my door. I can't name my Mother as a suspect, cause she has as terminal illness and she can't keep walking up and down stairs or she'll get tired. And if somebody did walk up and down the stairs I would know cause I'm right in the Living Room, cause it's an open staircase. But since that day, my door has been left alone


My Grandfather Frederico passed away in early 1990. He was my Mother's father.

The downstairs Family Room, which was periodically My Room, was at the time My Uncle Boy and Mary's room when they lived with us.

One day Aunt Mary Ann was dressing up Alexandra, her baby girl. Alexandra was fussing around, Mary Ann had a hard time trying to change her. Mary Ann was more worried about getting the baby dressed than what the baby was doing. When Mary Ann looked at what Alexandra was fussing about, Mary Ann noticed Alexandra smiling and talking, and Alexandra kept staring at the front door to the room. Then Alexandra started pointing toward the door. At that moment Mary Ann turned and looked. Mary Ann was startled, in the little hallway was a ghost, it was the ghost of my recently deceased Grandfather. Mary Ann said that you can see his face, but his body was like a foggy mist. He was smiling and staring at Alexandra, his new baby granddaughter.


My Cat, Blanca, was the most furriest, cutest, tinyest white cat. I found her at the Foster City McDonalds when she was a kitten.

People had said that pets and animals can see spirits, they see things in a different perspective or have an extra sense. I believe that to be true.

One evening I was sitting on the couch watching TV. The couch is set-up werid, it's an L shape couch, so it's pretty much limited in how we decorate the Living Room. We had it at a way where one part was against the wall and the other part was about 4 feet from the back window. So my back was to the back window. The curtains were closed, it was late in the evening, and everyone was asleep, especially Blanca, whom was on my lap.

So, I'm watching TV then all of the sudden Blanca just wakes up from a deep sleep and just stares up and behind me. She's not looking at me at all, she's looking right past me, behind my right shoulder. Ok, i'm trippin' now, cause Blanca woke up for no apparent reason and is frozen staring at something behind me. Blanca just sat there on my lap staring for minutes. I'm freakin' out, and I'm trying to psych myself to not get scared, so I start flipping the channels trying find something funny, and I would periodically look at Blanca whom wouldn't make a move or blink. This behavior is pretty weird for Blanca, she's never this paranoid. I'm sweating and panicking, so then I decided to get up and turnaround. As I did that, I saw nothing, and Blanca runs away. I was so freaked, I started to turn on all the lights and think of nice happy thoughts.



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