December 4, 2006
Handprints on the WallRate this encounter: Sarah S., Nashville, Tennessee, November 2005
My name is Sarah. About five years ago I moved into an old building downtown. When I moved in, the residents of the other apartments (it was a huge house converted into apartments) told me that it was haunted. I always believed in ghosts and had encounters with them, but so far I hadn't experienced anything in that place. After a year or so of living there, I noticed that there would be hand prints up the wall as if the person was crawling up the wall. I am not even five feet tall and these ceilings were 12 feet tall! I certainly didn't put them there, and I know the last tenants hadn't because I had cleaned and repainted when I moved in.
When I was in a particularly abusive relationship I would feel suffocated in there. I would sometimes run down the hall and not look behind me because I was scared of what was there. It felt as though someone was hanging from a noose. I asked around the neighborhood and found out that 1, our building and the bars surrounding us were built on an old Indian burial ground and 2, the house next door, which was torn down a few years after I moved in, had such a gruesome murder in the attic that it had to be gutted.
A few months before I decided to move out I was walking my dogs late one night. I was walking past this bar and this girl stopped me. She asked if I knew my building was haunted and I said yes, I did know. I asked who she was and how she knew. Apparently she had stayed in the building for a week after moving here. Her friend was my neighbor. She was a photographer and was taking pictures in his apartment. Only a wall separated his and mine. She went in the bar and grabbed her purse. She showed me pictures she took on her digital camera (I realized there was no way she could have Photoshopped these photos if they were on a digital camera). The first picture was of a poster he had in his apartment. To the left of the poster this demonic figure seemed to be emerging from the wall. The image was so haunting I really don't ever want to see it again. It looked like everything the devil would look like -- long nose, almost horse like, and small black eyes. The face was the oddest shape and I didn't see any hair. The next picture from his apartment was of the ceiling. In that one a man appeared -- he seemed to look normal, although like the other one, his face seemed to be protruding from the wall. His eyes were rolled back in his head so you could only see the whites of his eyes. I asked if we could walk to my apartment (it was right across the street) and if she would take pictures. She agreed. As soon as she came in the mood totally changed. It was very suffocating -- as though the entities were scared. She considered herself to be some sort of medium. She said she has always been able to see them. We took pictures and we got orbs. Only one face appeared. It wasn't as scary as the ones from the apartment next door. After she left I felt I couldn't sleep. Whatever was there was pissed. The next day I didn't want to spend anymore time in the apartment than necessary. I went to the laundromat around 12, I started washing my clothes, and looked at the clock. It was stopped on 3. I figured it was broken. Forgetting that it was broken, I glanced up at it later and it was working again. It was half past twelve. I realized that the ghosts or whatever they were, were letting me know they are there. As 3 is always considered the witching hour. I seriously grabbed my laundry and left.
I went to this holistic place that had massage, oils, psychics, mediums, etc. I grabbed this woman and started talking to her. I explained everything that happened. She said that the spirits were scared that they had a traumatic death and the 3 on the clock was their way of letting me know they do exist. I asked about black salt, white candles, etc. and she said that stuff doesn't work, but I should get some because it might give me some peace of mind anyway. It took a few weeks for the apartment not to feel so hostile. Needless to say, even though I love ghosthunting and reading about such things, I moved, I didn't want to live in a haunted building.