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Paranormal

Manresa Castle (1st Stay)

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My first arrival at the Castle was a total fluke. I was in Port Townsend exploring and was looking for a place to stay. After driving around and searching on my phone for local hotels and Inn’s there was little to come by. Then I saw Manresa… Just by looking at the building something said- this is the one. I had no idea it had the history and energy attached to it that it does until I stepped out of the car and made my way up the steps. I could feel it instantly, both good and bad as I walked up those concrete steps and entered the Castle. It was like fate was right there beside me, as I was handed a key to one of the 3 “haunted” rooms, room #306. I had a feeling when asked about the Wi-Fi password for the hotel, with the response that “those rooms don’t have any connection. If you would like to use the Wi-Fi please feel free to use the Library or the bar and lounge..

Hmm, ok, so now I have some research to do.

Upon entering the room it was exactly how I expected, a classic Victorian feel with the necessary modern upgrades such as a flat-screen TV and Wi-Fi that which stated upon arrival that did not work. It indeed did not work in our room. We tried everything from boosters to HotSpots but could not get any signal, and the TV when turned on would turn off after only moments of hoarding its power. Also the main light in the room, a beautiful mini chandler would turn on and off at will.

The Paranormal Enthusiast in me got beyond excited as I unpacked my bag of equipment I had just in case of such an occurrence. Now mind you this was a good 7 years ago, so I did not yet have a full spectrum camera or a Spirit box, but I did have an old school Sony IR Camera, and a digital recorder so I went with what I had and got to work. I did the necessary research on the castle, the owners, some very interesting unknowns, but also your normal handful of associated “urban legends”

I spent hours online in the lobby library, which had a very homey and comfortable feel. Looking through articles and book notations, learning of the legend and lore of the Castle. The original owners, Charles and Elizabeth, and Kate Eisenbeis, and the history that followed. It was gripping! I couldn’t believe that I was by chance given the room where a woman jumped to her death after her lover at Sea did not return, Also, right next to as many as “the hallway” between two other well-known hot spot rooms. Anna’s room which was right below me, and the Monk’s room with the staircase up to the attic right next to me, with the staircase leading upright above.

Along with the tales of the Castle was many a reference to a journal or book that was kept in the bedside of room #306, the very room I had rented for the night. I read for hours about the business and rise and fall of the great castle, from the Eisenbeis family to a school run by nuns and then the Jesuate monks that used it as their monastery in 1925. Yet in that timeline lies an interesting and unusual occurrence. In 1902 the tomb that contained both the glass coffin of Elizabeth and that of Charles Eisenbeis was caved in revealing the corpse of an “unnamed child” upon Charles Casket, the small skull of a child resting on top of the plot.

After reading for what seemed hours about the Eisenbeis family, the different uses for the castle over the years, I decided that I must stay another night and focus on making any contact or capturing any evidence with what little equipment I had with me. You know what they say, the best paranormal equipment is yourself!

Getting another night in room #306 made me giddy and I felt like a kid in a candy store. When speaking with the front desk lady I asked if it were at all possible if I took a look at the “book” she looked at me and smiled. Reaching under the desk in a drawer she pulled out the very journal I had read so much about. She said to feel free to add my own story to it and believe me. I planned on it. After spending hours in the beautiful library/reading room reading stories from people all over not only the state but the world, I handed back the journal and head up to prepare for my second night.

While taking my time going down every hallway, every staircase I remember coming around the corner and feeling a cold draft envelope my thigh and hip area, I felt a tug on my pants near the pocket like a child would when trying to take candy from you. I felt a very youthful energy as my hair flew from my face in the draftless hallway of this beautiful castle. I was so excited I bolted back to my room to grab my digital recorder and camera, but I knew not to bother.. I had my “experience” with her and I would have to seek out my next one.

I came back into the room, charged with adrenaline. I set up my cameras and waited patiently in the room, no more lights going on and off but I did hear a distinct sound of someone walking above the room beside me. I learned this was the Monk’s room. A Jesuit Monk was said to have lost his faith and had taken his life in the attic above the room, in the Tower of the castle. This was the room adjacent to mine. (I just kept thinking I need to book that room next!)

The pacing back and forth above subsided after what seemed an hour or so, then I decided to go downstairs into the breakfast room for some more hot water for Tea. When I was downstairs I saw nothing more than I can explain as the most stereotypical version of a ghost I have ever seen. I saw a woman, long dark hair, white dress looking not lost, maybe in thought but not purpose. She moved about so gracefully, yet her energy felt heavy to me. I felt pain, loss, and sorrow. I knew this was the woman whose room I was sharing for the weekend. There was no question in my mind, it was her. Plain and simple. I saw flashes of looking out a window, the feeling of longing and hope. Getting the news that my love died at sea, and then nothing but pain. The kind of gut-wrenching pain that knots your stomach up and leaves you feeling nauseous and drained.

The rest of the last night of my stay was mostly tiptoeing around the floors mid-night, or doing research in the downstairs library (since I couldn’t get wi-fi in my room) about the haunted castle I was staying in. I loved it! I very much enjoy history and research, and to stay in historic buildings with so much history just makes me light up with joy! no matter how dark the history may be.

My second night was much more eventful after a long daytime nap, and a late lunch in the garden overlooking the tower, which I already knew was the next room I wanted to stay in. I was entranced! I loved my long night of cuddling up on the couch in the library, reading “the book” that was kindly loaned to me on my two-night stay.

That night while lying in this gigantic California King Size Bed reading up on the Eisenbeis Family, the castle the gravesite. I knew where I was headed after checkout in the morning! I couldn’t wait to see this tomb, and feel..sense of the history that it held, with all its mysteries. I did some EVP sessions but with the traffic, nothing was viable as there was too much noise pollution it contaminated any evidence I might have got. I thought, next visit, come at night! I

By the end of my first two-night stay, I had read every story of every person that wrote in that journal, their experiences at the castle intrigued me, and let me wanting more. Once finished I added my own experiences and handed it back to the Front desk manager, who had been very kind in giving me the opportunity to see something that “no longer exists”

I remember the following morning, as I drank my tea in the dining room that I did not want to leave, but I knew my time there had only just begun.

Boy was I right.

 

Paranormal, The Island Life

You never know you will find in your Haunted House’s basement.. (Check this out!)

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Back about a month ago, I was clearing out the unusually large, and strangely constructed crawlspace room, as it was left full of old junk from previous tenants.
Afterward, I had a very strong feeling that a female was trying to connect with me to give me a message. After communicating with her, I was given the words “crawl” and “dig”. My mind went directly to that room as I was just down there, so that’s what I did, I went back down and dug.
What I found, I never (well, here nothing really surprises me anymore) thought I actually would.
I dug up a bone. While doing so I felt the presence of a much darker energy, and that it was watching everything I was doing, thinking every thought I had.
I felt a strong tug on the back of my shirt and turned around expecting to have it caught on something, but there was nothing there to snag it on. I believe it was the female telling me to get out of there. I found what she wanted me to find, and hopefully, I can help her in some way by uncovering this mystery.
I had to go back down with proper lighting to carefully get some photo’s so that we could hopefully have it properly identified before calling the authorities. Of course, my feeling was I didn’t care if it was human or animal, the fact that it was there in the first place was worrisome enough.
We had bad feelings about that room from day one, and I truly believe the female wanted it to be found so that the right questions can be asked to be the benefit of both her and myself.
We still have not been able to have anyone come inspect it in person, however, our neighbor’s brother is a homicide Detective South of us, so I sent him the photos.

After reviewing them, he said they are either Pig or Human, but will not be able to give a definitive answer until he sees it with his own eyes. With all that’s going on in the world today, homicides are up, so it’s hard to get him all the way out here, but it is in the works.
Since finding it, no more digging has been done, as I don’t want to disturb anything else, especially being Native ground.

So either they were remnants of a sacrificial ritual or just a convenient place to bury a body. They did bother to put viewing windows in there (that were boarded up) and cement the floor on the other half of the room but leave that one all dirt, and just cover it with tarps.

I know have a good idea of more of the story, but I will save that for the next entry.

Paranormal

Zak Bagan’s Haunted Museum

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Last year, I traveled to Vegas solo to go to Zak Bagan’s Haunted Museum for my birthday. I wanted nothing more than to spend my special day in a place I’ve wanted to go to since it opened.

When I arrived, I was greeted by “Angry Joe ” Tasso, which was a real treat. He noticed my Selenite/black Tourmaline necklace and we talked about certain crystals and their ability to enhance your physic energy and to help you get in touch with the spirit world, as well as using them to protect yourself from negative energy and aid to ground you. It was really nice to meet him, and after I signed the waiver I was lead inside.
My tour was only myself and three other people, a younger male and what seemed to be his parents.
The moment I stepped inside I could feel all kinds of energy, dark, light, and the anxiety of the other guests. Mixed with my excitement my heart was racing sitting in the lobby waiting to start the tour.

The building alone felt ominous and the energy seemed to seep through the cracks and surround not only the building but those of us waiting to enter. The 11,000 square foot, 30 room building was constructed in 1938 and originally owned by a banker and businessman Cyril Wengert. Unexplained experiences have been associated with the property for decades. When Zak Bagans interviewed a local woman who recalls breaking into the unoccupied house as a teenager, she found evidence of dark rituals in the basement, most famously a Pentagram which was believed to be the site where the rituals were conducted.
I had so many experiences, almost in every room. If I were to explain them all this would become a mini-book, so here are the ones that most deeply affected me either at the time or I came to find even months afterward.

The Funeral Parlor
This beautifully constructed place of mourning contained two human skeletons from the Oddfellows Asylum still in their original coffins. We were all sat in chairs and told about the history of the secret society of the Oddfellows and how Zak obtained these remains. We were asked who wanted to volunteer to stare into the hollowed eye sockets of one of them to see our true mortality. My hand went up immediately, and no one else volunteered so I got up and walked over to the coffins and was asked which one I thought was “the one” I asked if I could put my hands on the caskets and I could instantly feel a connection to the male, whom apparently was the correct choice.
I remember so much, yet so little of that time. But, it felt like I was frozen in place and lost all sense of time or even where I was. I was however able to feel myself getting cold as an intense cold spot behind me began to make itself known.
After being “awoken” from my waking dream by the tour guide I was then asked to crawl down and enter a small door. Not knowing what to expect, I found myself in a small pitch-black tunnel and then greeted by a friendly staff member among the way. Sorry, Zak, no screams out of me.. I think I just said “hey there! nice to meet you” and followed him through the winding tunnel and ended up back in a different hallway.

The Jack Kevorkian office and Death Van
These rooms were both very intense but in various different ways. In the office surrounded by his research, personal desk, and other artifacts I almost became angry. I felt anger for those who took this path, and even more so for Kevorkian himself.
When I entered the room with the Van, my anger turned to sadness.. complete and utter crippling sadness. Tears began to stream down my cheeks as I looked at the photos of some of his known victims, most famously Janet H. Adkins, Majorie Wantz, and Thomas Youk. Yet, records show he was responsible for up to 110 Assisted Sucicdes, if not more.
Upon entering the room I was overcome by sadness, a deep, great sadness. As I got as close as allowed to be able to inspect the van, the equipment (that was used in these acts) I was overwhelmed with tears and eventually said my peace to them, composed myself as best as possible and continued on with the rest the tour.

Peggy’s Room
This is another room 3 of us 5 did not want to enter. Myself, with a heart condition and her known ability to cause heart attacks I had to second guess entering, but I did not come all this way to spend my birthday there and not see it ALL. So I went in, and instantly the SB-7 that sits beside her case started talking. At one point, I thought she said my name, but I am sure she was saying “Staysha” as she is one of the most well-known employees and tour guilds there, and on top of it, she and Peggy are close. Every question I asked was answered…
X- “do you like it here?”
Peggy- “yes”
X- “This is a lovely room Zak has made for you, do you like it?”
Peggy – “Care” “Safe” “Zak”
This went on and on for the few moments we had in there, and I look forward to continuing our conversation in the near future
No heart attacks, no raised heart-rate (I keep a close eye on it during investigations, or in a place like this)

The Cauldron Room – Ed Gein
This room I was so excited for this room, as even as a young child had fascinations with Serial Killers. Forensics, true crime, anything macabre, or unusual in general.
Outfitted like a barn, The cauldron being the centerpiece of the room, I remember looking up to see scarecrow dummies and the shovel that Zak Got when he bought the cauldron hanging on a hook just above.
I wanted to see as close as allowed, and at the time there was no glass case. You could see the charred metal, the remnants of Lady Snake’s ritual there the night of the Ghose Adventures “Museum of Madness” Special. It was so close but yet could hear that inner voice saying “stay back, don’t get too close” I moved to the other side of the room, inspecting the decor while listening to the legend of the items, and other related information. I then all of a sudden feel a grab on my butt, I must have jumped as the Tour guide said “you just got grabbed, didn’t you? ” “Yes, I did..right on my..” she finishes my sentence and makes it noted that a female’s experiencing touches was a regular thing in Ed’s Room. Certainly makes sense, considering what he did with the skin and parts of females, along with the lore that made him infamous as the Butcher of Plainfield.
What I didn’t expect is to once again feel his dark energy nearly a month later, here in the safety of my own home. My bed, my shower, my space.

Bela Lugosi’s Cursed Mirror
Another of the most famous artifacts in the museum is the Mirror that was once housed in Bela Lugosi’s home. In 1982 a man was murdered inside the home and the mirror was the only witness to a crime for which the killer was never found. Many, including Zak, believe that the mirror took in that negative energy as well as the horrific murder itself and now its dark imagery is now part of the mirror- and the negative effects it has on people.
This was also that room was Thomas Edison’s writing table as well as the set of Crying boy Paintings, that have their own haunted past of starting fires, yet being the only thing to survive the remains of several houses they hung in that were burnt to the ground.
I wanted to see these other items as well of course, but after getting again as close as allowed to the Mirror, I could not leave it. My body felt stuck like I was there but not there at the same time.
I began to see lights in my peripheral vision, but then I started seeing what looked like me walking slowly towards the place where the mirror ended, and I began. Closer and closer I peered in, only to see myself appear but yet I wasn’t myself. I looked old, haggard, and worn. I remember feeling dizzy at this point and had a fellow tour member help me out of the room where I sat outside in the hallway trying to not let what I saw affected me to the point of being led out. So I gathered my courage to move on as there was still so much to see!

The Natalie Wood “Splendor Yacht Room”
This was another room that when entering I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. Being among some of the items from the Yacht, you could feel the energy they still held in them. Other than a pain in my arm, and again a feeling of sadness as I could feel the items carried a lot of emotional residual energy.
Such a tragic death, so young, so talented. All the facts blurred by a drunken night of fun and terror. All this time, as still, her death is a mystery.. Only Natalie knowns what happened that fateful night.

The Dybbuk Box
At this point in the tour, my head was reeling with emotions, thoughts, sounds, smells, and overwhelming energy.
Before entering, the tour guide told us that it was her duty to inform us that a few days prior the box had started to open just a wee bit on its own. It was still of course concealed in its case, but the fact that it began to open all made sense the following March when Ghost Adventures did their Quarintene special, in which the last episode was the opening of the box. Zak had tried before to open it on a few occasions (Once alone with Post Malone, and again in a live episode of Ghost Adventures) Yet, both times it wasn’t going right, and Zak followed his intuition and didn’t do it.
In my small tour group of 4 (myself included) I was the only one who dared enter this room after the update.
Upon entering the room, I was overcome with excitement. I walked right up to it, circled around the case to soak in every detail. Every letter carved on the back, every crack, every mark, every inch. I then went back to the front and peering into the slight opening I became transfixed. I was trying to soak it all in, not realizing that I had nearly “checked out” and didn’t realize how long I had been standing there. One thing I do remember is the feeling that took over me when I saw the glint of gold from the Chalice it contained. After that, I recall my chest tightening, and instead of listening to my intuition that was saying “get the hell out of there” I could not move, I was stuck.
Being the only guest in there, it took the tour guide to essentially “wake me up” and by now woozy and confused state as well and having a hard time walking was escorted out of the room to the other tour guests waiting in the hallway.

There is so much more to say about this amazing experience, along with many more notable areas and exhibits still untold.

These experiences stuck with me for days… but it wasn’t until I got back to my hotel room that I noticed the scratches on my chest and when taking a photo in the mirror saw this black mist-like anomaly hovering beside me.

All I can leave you with is my take on the amazing building and collection housed at Zak Bagan’s Haunted Museum. If you are interested in the Paranormal, Macbre, or just want to see some one of a kind items associated with some interesting history this is the place for you!

I can’t wait to return.

Paranormal, The Island Life

The more you know, the more questions there are..

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After some of the most recent events, my Mum has finally started to take me seriously.
I asked her to read my blog so she could know where I was coming from and start to see things from my perspective. In fact, she reacted much more intensely than I expected, as I know she is a skeptic (or was anyway).
She began to tell me stories from my childhood that I did not even remember (which is odd, as I have memories all the way back to being as young as 2 years old)
Apparently, after we moved to Point Roberts, from San Jose California when I was just about 2, she did confirm my memories of the Native Officials coming to properly remove the remains that were dug up upon construction of the foundation our house was built on. She told me that at that time, the land was also blessed, but that “odd” things started to happen from the time the house was finished to the day we left when I was 17 years old.
She recounted a day that I do actually remember. A day when My Mum, Nana, and myself went to Stanley Park in Vancouver for the day. I was still very young, only 4 at the time and upon seeing a nice Native man sitting on a blanket with oil paintings on display to show his talents.
He asked if we wanted a portrait painted, and my Mum had him paint one of me.
Apparently, however, this nice Native man was anything but. When my Mum had the house looked at and attempted to bless it again after disturbances started to occur more frequently, they blamed not the house or the land, but an object in the house. A medium sensed it was a photo, drawing or painting of some kind. This caused the “blessing team” to examine all such types of art displayed in the house.
Upon seeing the oil painting of myself, I was told there was no doubt in their mind that this was the culprit. When asked she remove it, she declined to say “but that’s a painting of my daughter! I’m not destroying it” It was a mistake she grew, and I grew to regret.
It took about another year of odd occurrences, and unexplained happenings before she finally gave in and got rid of the painting.
Apparently, it did help things calm down in the house, but I will never forget that recent phone conversation with my Mum, and her haunting words ” the painting was of you Xesia”

I can’t help but wonder if this is somehow connected to my lifetime of intrigue, experiences, with the paranormal. I wonder if I’ve always had something attached to me, the thought has definitely crossed my mind on several occasions.
Yes, through research, interest, and investigations I know I bring some of this upon myself.. but I wonder if this is why it’s not just at locations or a few days after. This is something that has followed me from several houses and apartments, maybe just maybe it’s me that is Haunted.

Paranormal

My first Sleep Paralysis Experience

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I have now had a very extreme Sleep Paralysis experience, two in fact but the first one was the one that really got to me. I am sure as this was new to me, and with the activity in the house, it didn’t surprise me one bit.
Despite all I have endured in the past, I have never had this kind of intense fear and loss of control than I did during this first episode.
Of course, after it happened I knew what it was, so I started to research more and more about it and realized how similar most people’s experience can be.

Here is my mine:
I was getting ready for bed, and had just done some nighttime meditation and was feeling that I was starting to drift off to sleep. It seemed like only moments later, but I awoke with an overwhelming feeling of fear and presence in the room. I could not move my body, but I could see. I started to see a dark apparition near the right side of the bed till it was only a black silhouette of a man, about 7 feet tall with no facial or body features except glowing yellow eyes and a white slit-like grin that would show from time to time. I was frozen in fear as I watched this “shadow figure” walk slowly to the end of the bed and begin to crawl up on top of me until I couldn’t breathe and see nothing but this absolute darkness with eyes piercing into my soul only inches away from my face.
I tried to scream, I tried to run, but my body would not move and all I could do was lay there in a sheer state of panic looking into the eyes of evil itself.

I will never forget this experience, and unfortunately, it has not been the only one.
I know that 30% of people experience Sleep Paralysis in their lifetime, and a smaller number do regularly.
The second time was pretty much the same, but instead of one shadow figure, they were in mass numbers. I saw them on the ground, the wall, the ceiling. The same feeling of suffocation and fear.

Nothing is more terrifying than feeling so helpless in a situation so dark.

Below I was able to just google Sleep Paralysis and I came across these photos. It’s hauntingly similar to my experience so I thought I would include them, as another example of how many experiences are so similar.

Paranormal, The Island Life

I have always searched for answers, now I have been left… marked.

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Last night things in the new house took a turn for the worse.
As usual, I was alone upstairs in the loft when turning in for bed, I was saying some prayers including those for protection, and keeping any spirits with I’ll intent away from the house.
As I was doing so, my neck started to burn… I mean really burn. Like someone had stuck a hot poker into it.
I got up and went to the bathroom and looked into the mirror, only to see a red mark become more pronounced before my eyes. The only thing I had on, was my cross which I wear nearly every day and night and is white gold chain and all, so could not have caused a skin irration.
As the seconds went by the mark started to look more like a symbol than a scratch, or an irritation. What I saw in the following moments still gives me goosebumps..
This is the mark about 5 minutes later, where I could clearly see where my cross was laying on my neck. The mark is now much more pronounced, has become raised, and looks almost branded on me. By that time I could clearly see an upside-down cross now scratched into my neck!

Not only that, but there was also contusions around my neck when I took the photo with a flash.

I have to admit, this was a bit much for my own house. Sure, I seek out proof of the unknown and try to experience as many things that most do not, but wow.
Nothing would stop the pain. I tried several ointments, an ice pack and still, it persisted to burn till the light broke through the night sky.
Now that I have been officially marked by this entity, I wonder what the future has to bring…

Paranormal, The Island Life

Be careful what you wish for….

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Well, the reason I haven’t made a post in a while is that I moved out to Camano Island and didn’t have internet for some time, and the usage we do get is limited. however, it now turns out that to seek out spirits and be surrounded by unexplained happenings, I no longer even need to leave the house. The house we moved into was definitely not unoccupied, you could feel it from the start.
The house itself is artfully created, and with just a glance you can tell whoever built it was not your average Jo. The house is 3 stories, 5 different roof angles (some metal), an outdoor “fun house” that can sleep two and is quite roomy, built with pallets, and driftwood. There is also a garage, lots of acreage, an old chicken coop to fix up and get goats for, tons of space for the Animals to run around. There is a natural spring that runs through the property, and the well is located in the woods off our driveway, which as you know is a flowing battery of energy.
But one of it’s most interesting things about the house is all the entrance ways, even to the garage have cement blocks with random symbols, animals, and rocks all arranged in very specific ways.
I have been doing some research first by talking with neighbors and other people in the area about some of the history here, and just as in Point Roberts there was also a history of strong Native American presence on this land. I am still in research mode, as the next stop is the Library with some helpful tips from the local Historical Society. So far I have gotten the first owner’s (and the architect) name, as well as two people that helped build the house from the foundation up. I’m having a hard time tracking them down, but I do have a lead… so I’ll update more as that progresses.
Yet, all this research and testing I have been doing in the house and around the surrounding area have seemed to only heighten the activity..
From the start, it was small things like waking up every morning to my closet light being on, to odd bangs and knocks here and there. Also on several occasions, I have been in the loft and heard what sounds like a small rock or pebble being thrown. Then I started noticing small rocks everywhere from under the bed to right in plain view. Also, there is only one electric heater in the house (as the system is propane) that is constantly being turned off.
Then again like research on the house, as soon as I started getting out equipment and going about things on a different level, the activity has only got worse.
Now I am hearing disembodied voices, finding things moved around and not where I put them, and at night my dog will sit at the foot of the bed and growl, which is not something I have seem him do before.
For a paranormal enthusiast, I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse.

Paranormal

Synchronicity

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There is a lot of information out there about synchronicity, and it’s meanings.. but can it all just be a coincidence? Personally, I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe everything happens for a reason, and how you deal with things depends on the outcome. Like those choose your own adventure books I used to read back in Middle School.
However, I seem to notice these types of synchronic effects, usually in numbers but also in the feeling most call “Déjà vu.” A LOT. I mean, at least 6 times a day, sometimes more. Usually with the clocks, whether it’s 11:11 or 2:22 or 4:44 … I always seem to glance a the clock to see all numbers in sync.

So what does this mean? What are your thoughts on synchronicity?

“Synchronicity can also show us how there is a connection between the ‘inner world’ and the ‘outer world’. They are not separate realities but one in the same, and consciousness itself is the bridge between these two dimensions. The external and physical world that we observe and experience as ‘reality’, is the mirror reflection of the internal or non-physical world. Synchronicity gives us a glimpse into the inner workings of our own mind and how it relates to the very fabric of nature and reality itself. Many people who constantly seem to notice 11:11 and other repeating number sequences appearing over and over again when they least expect it, often consider the experience to be more than chance or coincidence. This belief is related to the concept of synchronicity.”

Source: Dimension 11:11

Paranormal

Room 501

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One of my most profound experience to date, if I had to pick one would be an apartment I lived in briefly in Bellingham, WA.
It was in the spring of 2013 and I had just moved out of a place with a friend into a low-income housing building located in the original downtown area called the Mount Baker Apartments that was built in 1929. My room was located on the 5th floor in room 501.
I felt I needed my own space. Growing up an only child, I was used to being alone. Yet I felt the moment I walked in that something was not right. But I was determined to cleanse the energy and make my own comfy abode with my cat, Nico. Not only was the room cleaned by myself, but others. One native, a Reiki “master” and an acquaintance who was into Wicca.
Still, however, things never seemed right. I would hear noises in a small room, only to be the only one there, I also heard what seemed to whisper coming from my closet, I would have horrible nightmares, and constantly feel like whenever I was alone, I was not really alone.
My cat, Nico would constantly be looking at things in the air that I could not see and went from a social and fun cat to hiding under the futon couch or in the bathroom. She wouldn’t go near the closet.
It was an old building that had an elevator that would constantly lose power and the lights would go off. I will never forget the first time I felt threatened was when I woke up on my 3rd night there in the middle of the night to the faucets in my kitchen and bathroom opened full blast spraying water everywhere. I had no explanation and it didn’t stop there.
One particularly muggy and warm night there were several of us sitting in the room watching a movie. We had all the old heavy wooden windows open with props as they tended to not like to stay up. Two had large books, one a wooden block, and the other an empty Absolute Vodka bottle to keep them up. All of a sudden all at once All 4 windows slammed down, shattering two of them and knocking the props holding them up 5 stories down into the alleyway.
Then, one night, I had a friend over for the night and early morning another friend stopped by with coffee to visit. We were up late talking about spirits, my current as well as past encounters, and hers as well.
In this building I had to physically go downstairs and open the door for people when they came over, I couldn’t just buzz them in I had to go downstairs and let them in after they buzzed the phone. Within seconds I heard a bloodcurdling scream (and I lived on the 5th floor) and her running down the stairs. She entered the lobby shaking, trembling, and looked extremely unnerved. We all went back upstairs to show us what she saw.
The closet doors were double doors, each door twice as wide as a normal door, and made of extremely heavy wood. She said she was sitting in the bed watching a movie waiting for me to bring him back up and the closet door opened full wide and slammed 3 times. It caused her to spring out of bed and down to us, white as a sheet and still in her pj’s
At this point, I knew I had to get out of there.
After speaking with another tenant, I found out that the previous tenant had hung himself in the closet not only a month before I moved it.
It was lucky timing that shortly after I met someone and we moved in together. Unfortunately, my cat Nico never did get through it. The energy in that room changed her, and when we moved she became something out of Stephen King’s Pet Cemetery. She would hide up in the rafters and dive-bomb you. She would hiss and scratch, and even after another move, she got worse and eventually needed to be put down.

Paranormal

Introduction to my Paranormal life

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My paranormal experiences started when I was a young child. I grew up in Point Robert’s Washington. It is a small 5.4 square mile peninsula right on the 49th parallel. It also is in a cluster of ley lines that intersect right on the area. If you look at the map of Washington you will see a small bit of land over the line, that is Point Robert’s.
A great deal of the land is ancient burial ground, as it was once occupied by the native American tribe of Tsawwassen, as proven through historical evidence and information.
I did my senior paper on the area, and through the historical society, library, and interviewing the older residents I learned that it had never been an odd thing to experience the explainable. UFO enthusiasts know that it is an area where there have been many sightings over the years (my first was when I was 7 years old) …. but my paranormal experiences started when I was very young, even before my first NDE. I was always into the macabre, loved horror movies, true crime, I knew more about famous serial killers than I did pop culture.. and that trend hasn’t stopped. That seemed to fuel my ability, because as I researched more, and knew more I could reach out to that part of myself that I believe has always been there.
I was born with congenital heart disease and had my first open heart surgery when I was 13 months old, and the second when I was 11.
Things really started to pick up after my first trip to the other side during my open heart surgery when my hear stopped for 2 minutes and 37seconds. My second when I was 19 during a gallbladder removal surgery where they nicked my pancreas giving me a serious case of pancreatitis. I flatlined during surgery again for 1 minute and 42 seconds.
After each time I began to see and feel my senses heighten to feel and sense things that were seemingly not there. I would feel drastic changes in energy depending on who I was around, and where I was.
When I was 13, my Nana whom I was very close with passed, she was sick for some time and eventually the cancer took over her body. We were always very very close. I spent a lot of my time with her while my Mum worked, and not only was I her namesake, but we looked more alike than I did to either my Mum or Father.
The day she died, I was at school and I will never forget the way the room looked, what day it was, even what I was wearing.. almost like it was yesterday. I got this overwhelming feeling of dread. I asked to be excused to use the phone and call home and when I called to check on nana, my mum had a difference in her voice, I could hear it so clearly… she told me everything was fine, and I would see her after school. I found out that night that my dear Nana passed away nearly 3 minutes before my phone call.
I feel some explanation was in need as it makes me who I am, and gives me the deeper connection and sensitivity to the other side that a lot of others do not have.