Spooky Stories

Please note: The following stories are true and may be disturbing to some readers due to graphic imagery.

Since it’s October and the mood is creepy and spooky with Halloween around the corner I thought I’d share a couple of my own personal “experiences with the paranormal” that I have never shared before.

I was going to say that this is a diversion from my usual content, but I am a witch, so…


I know children are more adept to seeing and hearing otherworldly spirits and I am keen on watching my own daughter interact with the world around her.

She is one-and-a-half and I’ve seen her do some weird shit lol.

But I don’t want to incline her to think she’s “seeing things” and she can’t talk to explain what I’m observing so maybe one day I’ll ask questions, but I’ll leave it up to her to talk to me about these experiences.

My mom was open with me about her own experiences with “ghosts” as she called them. Some of her stories chilled me more than a Steven King novel would.

Mom told me that when she was a little girl, she saw another little girl in a white dress outside in the middle of winter – we live in Canada [it’s freezing cold] -watching her.

She ran downstairs and by that time she was gone. No boot prints and my grandma hadn’t seen a thing.

She also said that the same girl was sat on the foot of her bed once and that was the last time she saw her.

They lived in a tiny old farmhouse in Winona, Ontario.

A little later in life, she and dad were just married and lived in the home my dad was born in – he still lives there! – and dad went to work on a night shift.

Mom, alone upstairs – 2 bed and a bath up there – heard someone coming up the stairs early in the morning and assumed it was my dad returning from work.

She called out “John?” [my dad’s name] and said that the most horrifying looking “devil” came up the stairs and walked over to her and said “the two of you will fight and one will die.”

Mom said that she went back under the covers until he got home and wasn’t sure if she dreamed it but that she recalled it as clear as day and was truly terrified.

She said she wasn’t sure what scared her more, the figure that spoke or what it said.

And finally, in our kitchen at home, there were hooks in the cupboard beside the kitchen sink to hang teacups on.

If you put one in that didn’t fit or tried to slam it, it would knock the other teacups around and they’d clank or jingle.

Mom said that, early one morning around breakfast, all of a sudden she heard the teacups swoosh in a jingle like they were slapped by a hand or a strong gust of wind.

…The only problem was that she was home alone and there was no “wind” in the cupboard.

Minutes later she heard an ambulance and the neighbour next door had died.

Mom had this one particular blind [window cover] fling open on its own in her bedroom and that blind [window cover] used to fling-up at times on its own with me in audience, though it happened so often it became a regular occurrence.

Now for my stories!

Just a little cut here … Spirit keeps telling me “self-care” and “meditation” as I write this so I think it’s saying that’s the way to clearly “hear” and “see” them without having to rely on the children lol.

I was really close with an elderly neighbour couple as a child. I considered them second grandparents and loved them both dearly – and still do.

Hello Bumpy and Grandma Ike!

When Bumpy died I remember it being a very sad time and noticing the difference in atmosphere in their home. I still feel atmospheres a certain way and it’s part of my “clairvoyance” – but I didn’t know that at the time.

When Grandma Ike passed away a few years after Bumpy I was devastated because I was close with her.

She was my first loss.

I think I was around 8 or 9 but I could have been slightly older. When Bumpy died I was much younger (maybe 5 or 6) and the difference in cognizance was poignant.

I was sitting in my room and “praying” to Grandma Ike like Mom suggested because I was sad and expressing a need to communicate with my lost loved one.

I said “Grandma Ike I’m glad you’re with Bumpy and I’ll help take care of Rex [their dog].”

…”Can you please give me a sign you’re okay, though?”

In that exact instant my fire alarm went off – the one that was broken and without batteries.

I flew downstairs and I’m surprised I didn’t break my neck on the way down.

I ran so fast.

A terrified me told my mom who tried to calm me down by saying it was “just a coincidence” and when we went back upstairs together, the alarm was still broken and still without batteries.

Mom said she never heard it go off and we lived in a small ass creaky house so there’s no way she wouldn’t have with how loud it was.

And I saw the red alarm light, too.

After that I remained closed off for a very long time due to fear and because half of me kept the “you’re imagining it” in the back of my mind because I thought I was going insane.

I still remember it like it was yesterday.

* * *

And finally, the last story which I don’t even think my own family members know about.

My mom was in a coma twice. The first time she lived. The second time she died.

The first time she was in a coma, our neighbour had stumbled on her unconscious in our living room after the neighbour’s dog [they were on a walk] ran up to the front door and wouldn’t leave.

That miracle gave me an extra year with Mom.

There’s a newspaper article about it and everything and I still value my neighbour and her family, who are like extended family to us.

The second time, my CPR didn’t work but the paramedics were able to gain a pulse when they got to us but sadly she died five days later.

During both hospital stays I didn’t leave her side other than to sleep or to shower.

The second time, I kept asking “what that smell was”.

I asked every nurse, doctor and PSW what product had been causing “that strong smell on her lips”.

No one else could smell what I was talking about and one nurse even got super close to try and see what I was explaining.

The smell bothered me but wasn’t unpleasant. It just bothered me.

I will never forget the smell.

No one could figure it out so I let it go and thought that they were just used to the smell because they’d worked around it for so long.

My mom would always ask me “why I smelled everything” and I couldn’t explain to her exactly why, but she was right, I smelled everything.

I have come to understand that I “smell” differently than the way everyone else does, though.

This incident proved it to me.

So, initially I tried to let the “bothersome” smell go.

I’d smell each product individually that the medical staff used and nothing had a scent.

“Scent-free” everything is used in hospitals that I came to find out.

So, I couldn’t figure it out and it was driving me nuts.

I could smell it as soon as I walked in her room and when I got close to her face – I was always kissing her face – it was the strongest.

I have come to understand that I can actively smell the various fragrances of dying.

I could smell that my mother was going to die but I had no idea what was going on at the time.

Apparently some nurses know what I’m talking about and I’ve read stories of them recounting the same “smell” that no one else can pick up.

They would say that they just “know” that patient would pass away soon because of the “smell”.

I always considered her “death day” on November 16 because I saw her truly dead on our kitchen floor as I began CPR to no avail.

That, and medically she was not there. No brain activity.

Her eyes were wide open and she was deceased as I tried desperately to revive her but it was her time to go.

It’s not something you forget.

Medically, she died five days later when we took her off life support.

What I was smelling was literally the scent of a person [more specifically their body] passing away.

I would always sit in a chair with her hand intertwined in mine as I prayed beside her to stay with me.

Occasionally, medical staff would ask me to go to the visitor’s lounge so they could do a scan or x-ray or whatever else medical staff do.

I was too tired to ask more questions so I obliged.

I just wanted my mom back.

So, as I lay there one morning in the chair with her hand in mine, I felt a hand firmly grasp my shoulder.

Firm enough that I thought it was a nurse trying to tell me to get out again while they ran more tests.

As I immediately shot up to see who it was – no one was there.

It was a private room and the door was far enough away that I would have been able to see someone exit.

No one was there.

Initially, I thought perhaps it was my Gramps coming to tell me to be strong, which caused me great comfort.

Now, I think it was Mom reaching out to comfort me because she was watching me suffer.

Life has never been the same since this experience.

Days after her death, in my grief, I wanted to end my life.

Not only did she manage to physically engage while her body was still here but she was thereafter able to communicate with me as I considered my own death.

I think it is so beautiful that other cultures embrace death as a natural part of life and look at it differently.

I am hoping that by sharing my experiences maybe I can plant the seed that creates a future with Spirit and human beings working together – a feat I do every breathing moment.

It saved my life and it might save someone else’s to know that we shed the body like an outfit.

I had no idea.

I happened to remember an experience I had in high school which I ought to insert here.

There used to be a person [who I will not name] but he was a friendly person and popular amongst several cliques because of his chill and easygoing demeanour.

I sat beside him in a couple of classes and did a project paired up together for one of them.

I believe this was in grade ten or eleven.

I had started to notice that he began to have a certain “scent” and though he was clean and hygienic [I’d been to his house briefly once for the project so I even knew his home was clean] he started to have this certain scent that I could not seem to get over.

I asked my best friend at the time and she replied that I was crazy, he had no “scent”.

The best I could describe our friend’s “scent” was an overuse of laundry detergent mixed with something I couldn’t describe nor stand.

It repulsed me but no one around seemed to notice and I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

I remember skipping class once because I noticed he was sitting in a spot near mine.

On that day – paired with social anxiety – I decided I couldn’t handle both my own heightened symptoms and his “scent” added on.

It hurt my heart to think this about someone and I knew it would sound rude to anyone who asked, not that I’d dare tell anyone else other than my best friend.

If she didn’t smell it, no one else would.

She was logical and rational and I was the “odd” one so I took her word for bible.

A couple of months after the “scent” became unbearable to me and he passed away from cancer.

I didn’t even know he had it until late stage and then he was gone before I really got to know him.

I never put the two together but I never forgot that experience and it makes so much more sense now….

…which is both frightening and intriguing.

I also believe I can distinguish the difference in scents of aliments but I don’t exactly go “looking” for the various fragrances of the dying.

I just suppose the nose knows.

* * *

A couple of weeks, fresh in my grief but after I decided not to die, I went to see my psychic friend Val.

I love Val.

She’s an amazing woman and even though I haven’t seen her in years, I know I can call her up any time for advice or for a reading.

Or just to hear what Mom has to say exactly.

Anyway, I had decided not to die.

But on my way up to see Val I was starting to lose my marbles a little bit.

I was becoming angry again and said “Okay you managed to keep me alive but I’ll never have kids without you here! Why the fuck would I do this to them? Who the fuck would have kids knowing this pain? Not me.”

That exact moment, and I still remember the point on the Red Hill Expressway that I was driving on at this moment in time, a song came on.

It was called “Mom” by Garth Brooks.

If you want to have a good cry go listen lol.

Here are the lyrics:

A little baby told God, “Hey, I’m kinda scared
Don’t really know if I want to go down there

From here it looks like a little blue ball
That’s a great big place and I’m so small”

“Why can’t I just stay here with you
Did I make you mad, don’t you want me to?”

God said, “Oh, child, of course I do
But there’s somebody special waiting for you

“So, hush now baby don’t you cry
‘Cause there’s someone down there waiting
Whose only goal in life
Is makin’ sure you’re always gonna be alright
A loving angel, tender, tough and strong

It’s almost time to go and meet your mom
You’ll never have a better friend
Or a warmer touch to tuck you in
She’ll kiss your bruises, your bumps and scrapes
And anytime you hurt, her heart’s gonna break

Now, when she’s talking to you
Make sure you listen close
‘Cause she’s gonna teach you everything
You’ll ever need to know

Like how to mind your manners
To love and laugh and dream
And she’ll put you on the path
That’ll bring you back to Me

So, hush now little baby don’t you cry
‘Cause there’s someone down there waiting

Whose only goal in life
Is making sure you’re always gonna be alright

A loving angel, tender, tough and strong

Come on child
It’s time to meet your mom

I could pick the lyrics apart line by line to demonstrate significance but I think you get the point.

In a nutshell, it was another reminder she was listening and trying to communicate while also answering a specific question.

I haven’t heard that song played on the radio since.

I had to pull over to compose myself because I was ugly crying with snot and tears and the whole shebang.

That was also when I decided to investigate messages through songs, radio, frequencies, numerology…

…And well, here we are.

I’m a mother now.

Having Mila [consciously] shifted my perspective significantly.

She enriches my perspective to see things from Mom’s point of view and propels me spiritually.

It can sound crazy. It can sound woo-woo.

But it’s life.

And for the fun of knowing, yes, I can smell cavities just like Kim Kardashian says she can haha!

And I don’t have to be next to the person but just in the same room. Never fails lol.

Hope you enjoyed that!

I’ll be open as I develop my clairvoyance because I truly wish for this to become integrated into “ordinary life” in order to colour our black-and-white society back to its deserved kaleidoscope.


Kaila A. Notto

Copyright © The Mindful Millwright 2019. All Rights Reserved.

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