I forgot to share a Halloween/ghost story this year!!! But it's never to late to post whatever we want, so here's story about a ghostly encounter in my parent's dark, spooky basement.
Basement? Cellar might be a more appropriate word. It was unfinished, with a concrete floor and cinder block walls. It flooded on occasion, so the washer and dryer were up off the floor on pallets. The cellar was lit by four single, bare light bulb fixtures--one in each quadrant. Only one of the lights could be turned on from upstairs. The other 3 had pull chains. At night it was a creepy place.
I made frequent trips to the cellar to move clothes from the washer to the dryer and to bring clothes up from the dryer. That was a regular chore. During one night time trip to the cellar, it felt more creepy than usual. Dread would be too strong a word, but I wasn't happy to be down there.
I hurried a little and tried to show no fear. Did I mention I was 8? Anyway, I filled the clothes basket--which was as big as I was--turned off the light over the washer and headed for the stairs. In my haste, I slipped when I was halfway up the stairs. I started to fall backwards with the laundry basket on my chest. I gasped, holding my breath in anticipation of the impact (with the concrete floor). But instead of hitting the floor, I felt something touch both of my shoulder blades...like two hands catching me. Suddenly I was standing straight up again, just a few steps down from where I had slipped. It happened so quickly I wasn't sure what HAD happened.
Did my grandmother save my life that night? (According to family lore, my dad's mom haunted the house.) Or at age 8 did I have the reflexes of a cat and catch myself? Since my hands were clutching the laundry basket and the basket itself was laying across my chest, I don't see how I possibly could have caught myself. Someone...something saved me that night. I like to think it was my grandmother.
This was the only odd experience in my parent's cellar...but as I reached my teen years, odd things started happening in my attic bedroom. (Spooky things.)