I was born in Southern Delaware (Ellendale) a number of years ago, and since I was around seven, I've been sensitive to things of the supernatural nature. My mom and mommom have told me of their experiences throughout the years, and they've led me to believe that the area we all grew up in is haunted. Below are my own experiences from when I was growing up.
We lived in a small trailer on a back road when I was around six, and right next door was a cemetery. Though I was young, I vividly recall hearing the sound of cries coming from the cemetery. My room was the closest to the graves. When I decided to investigate what I had heard, I found the grave of a child who had died in the 1920's. It was in the shape of a lamb, and I immediately found myself growing close to the grave itself. Throughout the whole time we lived there, whenever I wanted to explore the land around me, my feet would bring me right back to the child.
After we had moved out and into the house I live in now, my aunt and her family moved in. When I went back there for the first time since leaving, I ventured out into the cemetery in search of my old comfort, the small lamb grave.
It was gone. I thought I was going insane. I went and got my older sister, who had known it was there as well, and we searched for a little while. My cousin, Dominick, joined us in our search, though he couldn't recall ever seeing it. Typing this with my mother next to me, she revealed that she had seen the grave while we lived there.
When I was younger, my dad was engaged to a woman who lived just down the road from my mom's house. From the moment my sister and I went there for the first time, we sensed something was off. We'd never felt something so off-putting, at this point I'd never seen an apparition in person.
Within a few visits, it became clear what was there. Casually walking down the hall one day, I saw a little girl dressed in old night clothes in my dad's room. I knew for a fact that this was not my sister or my dad's fiancee's daughter.
Had the little girl not been friendly, or seeking help, I would have never explored my ability. After telling my mom of the little girl, she began to tell me of her own experiences from when she was a little girl, and even ones that happened when she was an adult.
As I began to go to my dad's house more often, I began to experience more things. I eventually became aware that the little girl, who had begun to talk to me, was not alone. Her whole family was trapped on the land. Her name was Elizabeth, and I quickly accepted that this was not where she belonged, and she came to me for help. For a while, a few months easily, she would not tell me why. Each time I asked her why she could not leave the land, she would disappear as if she was scared, and I wouldn't see her for the rest of that visit.
It was clear that she was beginning to trust when she told of how she, as well as the rest of her family, died. It broke my heart when I learned how. Even now, I can picture the scene in my mind. In the middle of the night, Elizabeth woke up thirsty, and sought out water. They were robbed, and the person committing the robbery was not expecting her to be awake, and in his panic, he killed her. Knowing that he couldn't leave a little girl dead for the family to find in the morning and filing a police report, he killed the rest. Knowing there was no way it wouldn't seem odd that a whole family wound up dead in the middle of the night, he killed himself.
I still remember when she told me this. I was sitting with her on the trampoline in the backyard, and I remember crying for her. It was then that I became aware that it was not just Elizabeth's family stuck there, and why they were there in the first place. A figure, a force stronger than them, was holding them there.
Once I told my mom of everything Elizabeth had told me, she sought out Mediums for me to talk to. They asked me to tell them everything I'd seen, heard, and felt. They asked me to draw her, and I did. After I was finished drawing her, they confirmed that they had seen her, and wanted to know if we were seeing the same thing. At the end of their visit, they explained that I was like them. I was sensitive to spirits, and the spirits came to me to help them. I was, and still am, a Medium.
Though I no longer see Elizabeth and her family, I sense and hear them to this day, ten years later. I've not been to that house since I was twelve, but once they realized I was there to help them and found themselves out of the grasp of the man who killed them, who I always called "Dark Figure," they followed me back to my house. Their deaths were never justified, and because of this, I don't think they've ever moved on.
There will be skeptics who do not think my mother and I's experiences are genuine, but it's pretty far fetched for a child of seven to fabricate a story to this extent.
This next experience happened at my grandparent's house, located less than five miles from my own. My grandfather died in 2005, when I was four. After he passed, my grandmother found that the house was too much of a financial burden to keep, and sold it. Before she sold it, we went in and tried to remove as much as we could from the old farmhouse, though much was left. One item my mother was adamant about keeping was an antique radio from the upstairs, seeing as it belonged to her grandparents.
I was only nine at the time, so I was not strong enough to help move it. I stood at the top of the stairs and looked around, trying to recall the times I spent there as a child when my grandmother was watching my cousins, sister, and I. Had I realized this would be the last time I'd stand in it, I might've looked a little harder. As I waited for the radio to get moved to the top of the old staircase, I happened to look down. There, stood a person I barely remember. He'd been gone for five years then, twelve now. I saw my poppop, who was clearly upset that my mommom had sold their house, and things were being removed from it. My mom had other people help get things out, and they were strangers to him.
I stood there, frozen. I recognized him from blurry memories and pictures my mommom kept, but it was unmistakably him.
The beautiful old farmhouse burned down a week later.
Last one. This one happened last summer before I turned sixteen. My older sister was away at the time, spending the weekend in New York. Her room is located right next to mine, and there are two doorways connecting them. She has a daybed, and it squeaks if enough weight is placed on it. Though we have cats, none of them were old enough to go upstairs.
At three in the morning on the first night of her vacation, I was woken up by a loud squeak from my sister's bed. Though it was so distinct, I've never been able to identify who it was that made it squeak that loud. Maybe it was my poppop coming to check on us, wondering why Abbey wasn't there, or maybe it was Elizabeth trying to let me know that she was still around.
These have been my most substantial paranormal experiences throughout my short life.
If you'd like to check out my mom's experiences, she's made her own post.
I'll link it here.