PanterA
07-09-2005, 01:20 PM
<p> These are 2 stories that are very personal. I've never told these stories to my family. I don't know why, I just feel that at the time they happened it was a very sensitive point in all of our lives and telling them would have hurt them more. I want to say that both of these stories are 100% true. I'm always interested in hearing ghost stories so if you have any please post them here or contact me.</p><p> Alright my first ghost experience was with my grandmother on my dads side. She always lived around the corner from me as I was growing up. I would come visit her every morning and we would watch The Price is Right together. She loved me with all her heart and so did I. Later on as she got older she moved upstairs in my fathers house. At that time I lived in the basement, and she would always have dinner waiting for me no matter what time I came home. Besides that she would call me EVERY night when I got home just to tell me to make sure I turn off all the lights and TV before I fell asleep. She would always say "Your father may work for Con Edison but he doesn't own it." Now my grandmother had emphysema. It was always sad for me to watch her like that, but I never showed her pity. That would have hurt her more. It's a sickening disease and eventually it took her life. Her last days were spent in the hospital. So one night I'm laying in my bed half asleep, half awake. I have the lights and TV on. Suddenly I feel the hair on my neck stand up then I hear my grandmothers voice. She says to me "Don't worry Bobby, I'm home now." Then my lights turn off. Now the light switch in the basement clicked when you turn them on and off. You actually have to put pressure on them to switch them over. As soon as the lights went out I fell into the deepest sleep. The next morning my father calls me to tell me that my grandmother had died that night. I knew she was home, she was no longer in pain, and I knew she would always be with me. I love you Grandma Hutch.</p><p> This next story is a little more painful. My grandmother got to live her life, have her family, and enjoy her time with them. This next story is about my cousin Ray. His full name is Ray Beau Murray, we all called him Ray Beau. Ray and I were only 6 years apart, so as kids we were closer then brothers. We would do everything together. He was my idol. I always wanted to be like Ray Beau. Now when we both got into our teens I idolized my cousin. I would brag about him to friends. He was the coolest kid I knew. He was the reason I got into art, music, and being the person I am today. He had his problems, hanging out with the wrong crowd, getting into graffiti gangs, and being a tough guy, but he always knew he was better then that. He always tried to get his friends out of trouble. He had a huge heart, and that's what got him killed. One night him and 2 of his buddies were hanging out in a bar. They all got drunk and eventually got rowdy, which lead to a fight with the bouncers inside the bar. Which lead to a fight with the bouncers outside the bar. Now my cousin wasn't a little guy, but him and his friends were no match for these steroid popping bouncers who after throwing my cousin and his friends out of the bar, continued to kick the ever living shit out of them outside the bar. My cousin was able to get away but his friends were still getting beat up outside the bar, so instead of running away, my cousin went back into his car and grabbed his be be gun. Yes it was a foolish thing to do, but he wasn't able to just turn and run away. He gets back to were they were fighting and tells the bouncers to back off his friends while pointing the be be gun at them. Someone thought it was a real gun and runs inside were one of the usuals in the bar was an off duty police officer. Jeff Pojay was his name. A name I will never forget. The man that shot and killed my cousin, my idol, my brother 3 times in the back. Some say he came out of the bar shooting, the cops say he identified himself before shooting my cousin. I like to believe that my cousin s