This thread is for those strange experiences and wacky ghost stories.
Guess the scary part for some won't really be the stories but the ridicule one will get for posting it here. Seeming that I fear more the intent of little old ladies with a twinkle in they're eyes when looking at me than ridicule. But this one is a strange one with no weird mojo. The nutty ones will come later when I have my second cup of coffee.
This story dates May 2004. I worked for a friend that came from a remote part of the Provence, doing renovations. He had a friend named Frank came from his home town. Frank used to be a truck driver, he witnessed the second plane hitting the twin towers on 9/11. He also had a motorcyclist crash head on to his truck. This affected him to a point where he couldn't do that job any more. He admired his friend greatly, the one I worked for. Even told his stories as if it was his own , his friend being.
He also had a heavy drinking problem. Working with him was hard, couldn't measure couldn't cut a piece of wood with any precision. His friend took him in out of pity hoping he would shake out of it.
He was afraid of heights step ladder was too high for him, basically wasn't at all the job for him.
Yet he had stories of himself being brave and adventurous. Didn't believe him , his stories didn't match the character that was in front of me. Being blunt as I do at times I told him that his biggest fear was dieing. Well I know every body fears death in a way.
So out of curiosity I went to see his friend to chat and get some news and what was going on with Frank seeming I haven't seen him in months. My friend was complaining about how Frank always having bad news for him but for everyone else he was fine.
Frank told him that he just came out of the hospital. Tried to kill himself. My friend knowing him well asked him how tried to do it. Frank replied that he took a broken bottle and jabbed it in his back trying to puncture his kidney. My friend asked if he wasn't drunk instead and fell on a bear bottle . This story wasn't true he never even gone to the hospital.
Few weeks later my friend tells me that Frank was dead. The police report was that supposedly being intoxicated he let the dog out. Closing the door he tripped on a chair backwards fell on a bottle puncturing his kidney. A trail of blood led to the bathroom apparently to try to patch himself up. then it led to his bed where he bled to death. Unlucky soul his father was dead a few months earlier, and his own funeral fell on his 38th birthday .
So the lie became a prediction of some sort.
Guess the scary part for some won't really be the stories but the ridicule one will get for posting it here. Seeming that I fear more the intent of little old ladies with a twinkle in they're eyes when looking at me than ridicule. But this one is a strange one with no weird mojo. The nutty ones will come later when I have my second cup of coffee.
This story dates May 2004. I worked for a friend that came from a remote part of the Provence, doing renovations. He had a friend named Frank came from his home town. Frank used to be a truck driver, he witnessed the second plane hitting the twin towers on 9/11. He also had a motorcyclist crash head on to his truck. This affected him to a point where he couldn't do that job any more. He admired his friend greatly, the one I worked for. Even told his stories as if it was his own , his friend being.
He also had a heavy drinking problem. Working with him was hard, couldn't measure couldn't cut a piece of wood with any precision. His friend took him in out of pity hoping he would shake out of it.
He was afraid of heights step ladder was too high for him, basically wasn't at all the job for him.
Yet he had stories of himself being brave and adventurous. Didn't believe him , his stories didn't match the character that was in front of me. Being blunt as I do at times I told him that his biggest fear was dieing. Well I know every body fears death in a way.
So out of curiosity I went to see his friend to chat and get some news and what was going on with Frank seeming I haven't seen him in months. My friend was complaining about how Frank always having bad news for him but for everyone else he was fine.
Frank told him that he just came out of the hospital. Tried to kill himself. My friend knowing him well asked him how tried to do it. Frank replied that he took a broken bottle and jabbed it in his back trying to puncture his kidney. My friend asked if he wasn't drunk instead and fell on a bear bottle . This story wasn't true he never even gone to the hospital.
Few weeks later my friend tells me that Frank was dead. The police report was that supposedly being intoxicated he let the dog out. Closing the door he tripped on a chair backwards fell on a bottle puncturing his kidney. A trail of blood led to the bathroom apparently to try to patch himself up. then it led to his bed where he bled to death. Unlucky soul his father was dead a few months earlier, and his own funeral fell on his 38th birthday .
So the lie became a prediction of some sort.