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Okay, my turn! I LOOOOOVE scary doll stories (I think because as opposed to the "ghosts can't hurt you" concept, to think they can manipulate household objects gives that new potential)...

Scary doll stories are my fave:
(Sorry not all are "clowns" Ash...)

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RAG DOLL
When I was four years old, one of my great aunts gave me an old homemade rag doll for my birthday. It had been hers when she was a little girl, made especially for her by her grandmother who, of course, was long dead. I loved the doll, for the only one I had was an old babydoll I'd had since the age of one. Why my great aunt had chosen to give me the doll was a puzzle, for she'd never really paid me any attention. In fact, as children often can, I sensed that she disliked me distinctly. Anyway, I felt very special to have been the recipient of such a treasured gift. I slept with the doll every night and, during the day, it had center stage on my bed.

Soon I began having very frightening dreams about the doll and the woman who'd made it which was, as I stated earlier, my great aunts grandmother. In the dreams the doll would be laying on some sort of platform, the grandmother standing over it saying things I couldn't understand. In her hand she held some sort of sharp object which she used to pierce one of her fingers, causing it to bleed. She'd then hold the pierced finger over the rag doll allowing several drops of blood to fall on it. Always, as the last drop of blood fell toward the doll I would awaken, frightened and crying, and run into my parents' bedroom, leaving the doll behind.

After several nights of the same dream, I became very frightened of the doll and threw it as far back in my closet as I could. I had the same dream again that night so the next morning I took the doll out to the shed and hid it under some ragged old quilts where no one would find it. The dreams stopped and I was happy. One day Mom, noticing the doll was gone, asked me what'd happened to it. I just shrugged my shoulders, saying I didn't know. She looked under my bed and around my room but I knew she wouldn't find it and I was glad. She opened my closet door, rummaging through it, then bent down and picked something up. When she turned towards me, the doll was in her hand. I had no idea how it'd gotten back into my room. Frightened, I looked at Mom and, wringing my hands, I said "I don't like it! I don't want it!" Mom told me I should be ashamed then lay the doll back on my bed.

The dream came again that night. The next morning I got up and took the doll back out to the shed, but this time I hid it in an old empty suitcase and latched it, hoping that would keep the doll from coming back inside. A couple of weeks went by with no dreams, and no doll. Then one day Dad went into the shed looking for a tire tool, me following close behind. He searched around inside the shed then picked up the suitcase which lay in a corner, intent on looking behind it. Somehow, the suitcase fell open and out spilled the rag doll along with the tire tool which hadn't been there when I'd hidden the doll. I gasped as Dad picked up the doll and gently shoved it at me saying "How in the world did this get in here?" I shrugged my shoulders and took the doll from his hand, feeling as if the doll were laughing at me. Not knowing what else to do, I took it back inside to my room and threw it in a corner on the floor then quickly left the room.

I went to the closed in back porch where Mom was washing clothes. The soap powders were sitting on the floor beside the washing machine. Somehow I managed to knock them over. Mom scolded me and sent me back to my room where I screamed upon entering, for the rag doll, which had been on the floor in a corner of the room, was on my bed propped against the pillow in a sitting position and facing the door as if watching for someone to enter. Mom came running, "What's wrong?!" she shouted. Hysterical, I grabbed the hellish doll and flung it to the floor. "I don't want it!" I shouted, tears streaming down my face, "Give it back! Give it back! I don't want it anymore! I hate it! I hate it!" Telling me to just calm down, Mom hugged me and, promising to give the doll back to my great aunt, she said, "Okay honey, we'll take the doll back right now if you want. But what are you so afraid of?" she asked. Getting no answer, she told me to put my sweater on and we would take the rag doll 0 back.

My great aunt accepted the doll back with a secretive grin, as if she'd known exactly why we'd brought it back. While we were there, she went to the living room closet and took out a dusty leather case with a lock on it. She placed the doll inside, locked it, and put it back in the closet. We said our goodbyes and Mom and I left. We never heard from my great aunt again.

She died four years later. When her things were cleaned out of her house, there was no sign of the leather case or the rag doll. To this day no one knows what happened to it. For some reason though, I believe my great aunt buried them somewhere on her property. Even so, I don't care to know for sure. As long as I never have to lay eyes on it again, I'll be happy.....
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DEVLISH DOLL
DEVILISH DOLL
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Right now Im 15 and have not had a reoccurrence of the event that took place ten years ago. I'll never forget what happened that night, in my room, in the dark.

My 5th birthday came and went with out any problems. I received many presents from friends and family. But there is one present I'll never forget. It was a doll remembered by many for its catchy commercial tune. The doll was a "My Buddy Doll". When I received the doll I was very happy for at the time this doll was at the top of market sales with boys 3 to 6 years of age.

The doll was like a best friend to me, like a security blanket. I put the doll and placed it in the corner of my bedroom near a rather large window. At night the silhouette of the doll was a comforting site to me, until one night.

The night began like any night. I was tucked in to bed and fell fast asleep. I had a bizarre dream that had woken me up abruptly. I sat up, looked around and saw the outline of the doll and realized it was all a dream. I proceeded to attempt to fall back to sleep. That's when I heard the strange noise. It can only be described as chattering teeth. This noise startled me and caused me to jump out of bed and run for the door. The door would not open even and inch. There was another door that led into a bathroom, and a door in there that led to the hallway. However that door was locked also. I flicked the light switch on the wall hoping to be saved by shedding some light on whatever or whoever was in my room. But nothing happened. All that was visible was the silhouette from the doll. That's when I heard the voice emanating from where the doll was. It said "come here Michael". The voice was deep and raspy. I couldn't scream but I could move. I thought maybe I could get to the window and get out. But that was on the other side of the room. I decided to do it. I placed a hand on the wall and began to slide my hand across it while I moved slowly to the window. I made it to window when I heard the voice again, from right in behind of me! It said, "sit down". I couldn't see anything. I obeyed in fear. I sat down right in the dolls lap. Suddenly, what appeared to be two dolls arms wrapped around me. And to my surprise began to tickle me. My laughs were mixed with fear and in fright I passed out. I woke up on the floor, on the doll. I ran to the door and it opened.

I told my mom what had happened. She did not believe me. She said I had a bad dream or something. But I was sure I did not. I was so scared of the doll after that night that my mom had to get rid of it. She placed it on the top of the trashcan outside and closed the lid. Later she went out to put more trash in the can and it was gone! I have no idea what happened to it. Maybe someone took it, or it walked away. I don't know. But I'm glad it's gone.
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I STILL HATE DOLLS
I STILL HATE DOLLS
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I have a few stories to tell that begin with my experience with a doll around age 7. To start with I can tell you that I have never been very fond of dolls. Even when I was a small child, I loved all kinds of normal, "girlie" things, but I could never stand dolls. I never knew exactly why, but I can remember being afraid of them, especially the porcelain dolls. I always felt like they were watching me or even glaring at me for some reason. I don't quite remember how I obtained this one doll. The UGLIEST doll you can imagine. You might remember her, she had really scraggly, short, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes and a pink dress. She didn't talk, but I think she may have closed her eyes when you lay her down. I could not stand to be near this doll, and so I put her in the toy box with my other stuffed animals and never played with her. One day, I was upstairs playing in my room, and I heard the phone ring. Since both of my parents were outside, I went to answer the phone. I said "Hello", and there was no one there. I kept saying hello and there was no response, so I just went back to my room. To my absolute horror, that doll was sitting up on my bed, smiling at me with that retched hair and evil gleam in her eyes. I screamed and ran outside as fast as I could. I ran into the garden, sobbing and cried to my parents that my brother was playing tricks on me. My Mom said, "Amy, your brother is at baseball practice." Well, that was it for me. I told my Mom what happened, and she came upstairs with me and the doll was just laying on the bed, like someone had left it there. I didn't care, I bawled my eyes out and begged my Mom to get rid of it, which, of course, she did.

Now, fast forward 15 years later. When I met my husband's parents, I was slightly disturbed to discover #1, his Mom has a collection of about 500 (no kidding) dolls all throughout the house, and right in the corner of their living room, was an enormous doll...a 2 and a half foot version of the very same doll that had frightened me as a child! Thankfully, they eventually put it in the cellar for me (his Mom never really liked that doll either). Oh yeah, by the way, it just so happens to be the same doll that they used in Amityville Horror!

I've had other strange things happen to me, but one of the experiences that really stands out is when I was in college. My roommate and I had both had some encounters with the Ouija board that left us intrigued and curious about it. We didn't have a board on hand, so we improvised by drawing the board out on the tile floor and using an upside down glass as a "planchette." We weren't expecting much, but boy were we in for a surprise.

We contacted a spirit who called himself Cass. He died in an automobile accident at a young age. Cass was very sociable and we would play games with him. Silly games, like we would ask what color underwear I had on and I would go run and check and it would say a different color than what I had on. Well, sure enough I would check again, and I swear the color had changed. The best part about Cass is that he would ask us questions, which was an experience neither of us had ever encountered before and it was fun to converse with him. Eventually he would do funny things like turn our blow dryer on, turn the stereo on and off, and hide things on us. We would get a little freaked, and later that night, we'd ask him if he was the one who turned the blowdryer on (for example) and it would spell out HA-HA-HA.

Soon, a lot of people were hearing about our mischievous spirit and coming to watch us play. He started to do the neatest thing, he would spell out the last 4 digits of our phone number, and the phone would ring. I would get up to answer the phone, naturally no one was there. This happened so many times that I actually got the phone and brought it over to where we were sitting. It wasn't until that point that we really made the connection between the last 4 digits and the phone ringing. We asked if he could do it again, and it went to 8-0-4-2...BRRRIIIIING! I picked up the phone and heard the strangest sound I've ever heard, it was extremely high pitched and low pitched at the same time. And then the line went dead. People actually ran out of the room screaming on more than one occasion.

I kept diligent notes while my roommate and a friend would connect with Cass. When those two played, that glass would whizz around like you wouldn't believe (he eventually got so scared he went to his pastor who instructed him to stop playing, and he did). Cass always used the same medium circular motion whenever we played. One night, my roommate and I were playing and Cass said he was tired and had to rest. So we started playing with another spirit, who did an odd thing. He tried to convince us that he was Cass. Except for one thing...he went in a fast figure 8 pattern. Suddenly, there was a jolt of energy and the normal circular pattern to the left came through and as fast as humanly possible, it spelled out DON'T PLAY. We ditched that game immediately! But I always thought it was cool that Cass was looking out for us that night.

Well, unfortunately, one of our dear friends did not believe in such things. We invited him to come and watch Cass perform his "phone trick" and he always came up with amazing, true facts about people in the room. Our friend witnessed, and then wanted to play. He asked some normal questions, and then he asked him when he was going to die. We told him not to ask that question, but he did anyways. He got an answer of March 13th. Our friend got very angry for some reason and hurled the glass across the room and stormed out. That very friend, committed suicide within three days of Cass's prediction. I know because I made a note of it and went back and checked. We stopped playing after that, and we never heard from Cass again.
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The Doll
Several years ago (1979 to be exact) my grandmother gave me a life sized doll. My grandmother being a scavenger of sorts had found this doll along the roadside.The doll was in good shape except her dirty blonde hair had been chopped off. Almost immediately after the doll arrived in my home I developed an unexplainable fear of her,so I put her in the closet.That's when I realized that I should be afraid,very afraid. You see I placed her in the closet with her head turned away from me and closed the closet door tight. When I awoke in the morning I saw that the closet door was open about two inches. As I moved in for a closer look fear over took me and I ran from my room. After ten minutes or so I returned to the closet. I decided that I was being silly and opened the door. I was horrified to see that her head was turned toward me. I quickly told my parents what happened, they dismissed it saying that it was my imagination. But it wasn't.

This happened each night for two weeks. Each night I would turn her head and close the door, every morning her head was facing me and the door was open. Needless to say I could not sleep so my parents told me to put her in their closet. The first night she was in there I had a nightmare about her. In my dream I was being pulled into my parents room. I was heading straight for their closet. When I reached the door it opened. There she was looking at me with a cold stare. She then raised her arms toward me.That's when I awoke,and when I did I felt as if I was falling. In fact the falling feeling was reinforced when the bed frame broke that very instant leaving the mattress and myself on the floor. The next morning I went to my parents closet and found the doll with her arms reaching toward me. I promptly grabbed her, took her outside, then I burned her. There has not been a problem since.
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DANCING DOLLS
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Growing up in the country meant being woken up anytime during the night by the crowing of neighbouring roosters. This particular night it had awoken me at around 4 a.m. I figured while I was awake now I might as well use the bathroom. Not wanting to disturb my twin sister nor my older sister who were both sharing the same room in our old farmhouse, I quietly stepped across the bedroom floor.

Being 9 years old at the time, there were many toys scattered on the floor. Watching where I was stepping ( the moon was a great night light in those days) I made it across the room until I got to a small doll that was lying there. As I looked down I saw the doll start to twitch, Nah, I thought it had to be my eyes, It couldn't have moved.

I froze at this point, keeping my eyes locked on the doll, not wanting to move but all the same wanting to step over it to get to the bathroom.

The small doll started to spin, slowly at first but then gathering momentum and spinning out of control. It seemed to twitch and spin. This couldn't be happening is what I thought.

I slowly (and freaking out all at the same time) made my way to my twin sisters bed waking her up. She wasn't too happy get up at 4 am. I told her what I was seeing. She made her way over to the dancing doll I had told her about. Much to my surprise she was seeing the same thing I was seeing.

We both knelt down to get a better look and wondered if our eyes were playing tricks on us. They weren't. The doll was going spastic, arms flailing, spinning out of control, twitching uncontrollably. We both started to cry at this point, we had never seen anything that scared us so much.

My older sister sleeping in the 3rd bed heard us both crying and saw us sitting in the moonlight in the middle of the floor. She was annoyed that we had woken her up. When she got over to us both she asked what we were doing up. We told her to look at the doll. It was still spinning, but she didn't see it.

She promptly picked up the doll, threw it in the old wooden closet and slammed the door shut. She then turned to us both and yelled " Now go back to bed!"

She never saw what we had, My twin and I both saw it dancing in the moonlight. It couldn't have been our eyes playing tricks, we both wouldn't have seen the same thing.

Ever get that freaked out feeling that takes your breath away ? I don't think I ever ran so fast to get back to my bed. With the covers pulled up over my head , I had no desire to use the bathroom now.

We never did leave that closet door open at night again. Nor did we leave our dolls laying on the floor at night!!!!
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Raggedy Anne

I used to live in a townhouse which was built in an area that was supposed to be haunted. And that was apparently built upon an old grave site, there were lots of stories of black masses and people coming back from the grave. I being young and naive about the spirit world didn't really believe any of it. Little did I know how fast that was going to change.

When I was much younger my mother had given me a beautiful Raggedy-Anne doll. I used to carry her around with me everywhere, at night she would sleep at the end of my bed to protect me from the monsters that lived in my closet and under my bed.

As I got older I didn't play with her as much and so when we moved she got packed away and stored in our basement. The time came when I moved my bedroom into the basement and that's when all the trouble began.

Our basement was was your typical basement dark, kinda creepy, a place where sound really echoed. I started to have really strange dreams that would end up as nightmares. I would awake in the middle of the night positive that my childhood demons had been resurrected. But nothing would ever be there that I could see. The nightmares persisted and they got worse over time. I began to see and hear strange things that I couldn't rationally explain.
When I would tell people they would laugh at me and say what a wonderful imagination I had, but they did agree that our basement did posses a strange kind of atmosphere. Anyone who would venture down there, always came up in a panic. But when asked what was wrong they refused to say.

One night while I was sleeping I was awakened by a strange rasping, heavy kind of breathing. (This had gone on for some time now so I didn't put much pass it) But this night was different, I could see something sitting against the wall across the room. I was feeling foolishly brave so I slithered across the room expecting at any minute to be pounced on by some unimaginable horror.

I wasn't wrong. It was my beloved Raggedy-Anne doll, only it wasn't. Something was wrong with her face instead of smiling, she was baring her teeth and making these awful sounds. And her hands, she had grown these horribly long fingernails. I was petrified I just stood there. (It was like something out those cheesy horror flicks I had watched as a kid, where the girl just stands there as this gruesome creature or mass murder kills her.)

My Raggedy-Anne doll crawled towards me with her fingers stretched out trying to grab me. I screamed for my mother over and over again, she didn't come. I ran towards the stairs thinking that my doll couldn't climb up the stairs that I'd be safe up there. I wasn't.

I kept on calling for my mother to help me and to god if he was there. I could hear a pounding on the stairs above me, I thought for sure my heart was going to burst out of sheer fright. The Raggedy-Anne doll had reached the stairs where I lay sobbing. I could see her reaching out for me her fingers stretched out latching onto my ankle. I've never been that terrified in my life. I could feel her puling me back down the stairs, back into the basement. But lucky for me my mother had finally heard me and came rushing down the stairs turning the lights on as she went.

My mother saw me huddled on the stairs tears pouring down my face and blood gushing down my ankle. She freaked out once she saw the Raggedy-Anne doll lying on the stairs below me. She never did say what exactly she saw that night but we moved out of that house a month later. I never went back into the basement, I was afraid that if I went back down there I would never come back out. The strange thing is I've still got the scar on my ankle where the Raggedy-Anne doll attacked me. And whenever I explain to people what happened I still get the sense that whatever it that possessed my doll that night still lives there in that house just waiting for the next unsuspecting family to inhabit it.
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THE BROKEN CLOWN
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I hate clowns. I think they are vile and disgusting in every way, and they scare me to the core. With that said here is my story.

My cousin lost her mother when she was two years old. The last gift her mother had ever given her was a wind-up musical clown. It wound-up on the base, so while it was playing it's collipe music is spun around in circles.

When we were about 11 years old, I was staying with her and my uncle in Florida. We had just gone to bed, but being 11 years old, and rarely ever seeing each other we stayed up to talk. When we finally decided to go to sleep I rolled over and saw that clown, I don't know if the street light was reflecting off of it's glass eyes, but it appeared to be looking at me. I mentioned this to my cousin and she told me to just turn it around. That is what I did, but as soon as I laid back down on the bed, I could see it's eyes again. My cousin, knowing my irrational fear of clowns, hid the thing in her dresser drawer.

With the clown hidden, I drifted off into a comfortable sleep. About two hours later I was jolted out of sleep, by my cousin shaking me and whispering my name over and over again. That clown was sitting on the dresser, spinning around and playing that creepy collipe music. I thought that she was playing a mean joke on me, so I said to her that if she was I was going to break it. Of course, it being the last gift bought by her mother, she started crying and begging me not to, all the while insisting it wasn't a joke. She got up and put it in the closet.

Another two hours passed, and I was again awakened by the collipe music. The clown was sitting on the dresser again! I freaked out, woke up my cousin, got out of bed and smashed the clown into pieces on the floor. I proceeded to run from the room, sustaining several deep cuts on my feet from the glass.

After going to the bathroom and cleaning my wounds, I laid on the couch, wondering why my cousin hadn't come after me to yell at me. I peeked back into the room to see what she was doing. She had her back pressed all the way up against the wall, her eyes were wide open, her teeth were chattering, and she was pointing in the direction of the dresser.

Apparently, when I left the room she had flipped over away from the clown and started crying at the loss of the gift. She claims that she laid like that for about 10 minutes or so, before she heard the collipe music. She thought that maybe the base hadn't broken and was still able to play the music, so she turned over to see. Instead of just seeing the base, the clown was on her dresser, completely intact!

She still has that creepy old clown, but it is buried in a box with the rest of her childhood toys. And I still bear the scars of a broken porcelain clown.
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(This one is freaky!!!!)
A NEIGHBOURS HELP
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This is a true story and there is no dramatics or exaggerations to benefit material, it is quite shocking nonetheless.

Here in the States, I live in the south side of Chicago Chicago, Illinois, there is a "hotbed" of paranormal activity that has become infamous with its popularity.

The city of Chicago has been known to have hundreds of paranormal, unexplained phenomena. In the south suburbs of Chicago, we have 4 main points of interest. 1) Bachelors Grove Cemetery; oddly enough it is a 15 lot cemetery that sits on about 2 acres of natural forest preserve about 200 ft, from 143rd Street. It is common knowledge that the mob used to dump their victims in the pond that is less than a hundred feet away from the headstones, back in the 1950s. There are many different stories that are associated with this place; in general, to list them all would be a story in itself.

2) Resurrection Cemetery; now I know we all have heard about Resurrection Mary, and in 1979 the Iron Gate in the front of the cemetery were mysteriously burned with 2 hand prints in raw iron bars. Mary supposedly hitchhikes along 79th street and Roberts Road, or she takes a taxi. (which rarely is a spot to ever catch a taxi, the streets named are suburban) Wherever Mary requests to be dropped off, she vanishes before the car stops to let her out.

3) St. James Cemetery; this is commonly known as "Monks Castle". Monks have been reported in sightings and sometimes provide chase to a late night passer-by. Police in the area give chase to suspecting teenagers, but comment on the Olympic speed these apparitions possess.

4) Sauk Village; this small suburb is reported to be built on an Indian Reservation and the Sauk Trail, just too many stories to list.

These 4 places of interest have been documented on popular nationwide cable shows like: The Discovery Channel, The History Channel, and The Learning Channel. Oh yeah, let us not forget about the show Sightings, from the Sci-Fi Channel. Every last one of these cable stations have stated within the past couple of years, that these specified areas are in fact the most active paranormal sites in the country. I mean you could walk in any one of these places with a camera and be guaranteed the film development will have some inconsistencies, and you can take that to the bank!

Now the story that I am about to tell is in the middle of the 4 places that I have stated. The name of the town is Worth, IL.

Settlers first arrived in 1858, a famed hero of the War of 1812 (the Brits second wave of futility) & the War with Mexico (Poncho Veihja, was some militant punk who stormed the border through Texas and slaughtered the innocent, during the Mexican Civil War, He retreated back to Mexico within hours of his invasion of the U.S., caught the eye of the government and was then decided to hunt him down consequently the U.S. never captured him).

General William J. Worth, made legendary actions throughout both campaigns. With his presence, the settlers named the village after him.

OK, enough of the history lesson, in fact there are many more places of paranormal interest within the specified area, however, none that carry the reputation of the 4 stated. On with the story...

It was 1976, the place was Worth, IL, and a man named George had bought his first home with his wife and 4 daughters. Normal family with normal lives. This story will be centered on George and his youngest daughter Becky, who at the time was 5 years old.

There are some quick notes to mention about George, he was an honest middle-aged man with no serious problems.

As a hobby, George had renovated his garage to a small car repair center. It was his way of making extra income; he did have the professional equipment for the time too. The garage was in the back yard separated from his home. That was ideal for George because of the noise from his equipment. George had a day job, while his daughters were in school and his wife was a full-time Mom. They lived in the house for a year without any hint of activity. In early June of '77, is when things started to take place.

One night George took out his wife and girls to dinner, the family arrived back at the house in the late evening. George was the last one to leave the house, he was the last one to turn off the T.V., he was the last one to turn off all the lights and lock the front door. Upon entering the driveway, the whole family noticed that the front door was wide open with the lights on in the front room and the T.V. was on full blast. George checked the house out before the girls entered, and noticed the back door was open as well. It was not until after the local authorities left later in the same evening, George realized that his garage had been re-arranged, his equipment had been moved.

At first consideration George was convinced that it was local teens playing games. It was not considered to be impossible to pick locks, and since not one object was stolen or damaged it was a fair assessment.

A week later, George woke up at 4:00 A.M. to use the facilities (he had to urinate), and to his shock, the house had the very same scenario with the exception that his T.V. was on, just the volume knob had been turned all the way down, instead of up like the week before. George recalled standing in his front yard looking around for some explanation, late as it was, George made the rounds in turning off the lights and closing the doors, thinking that he would address the garage in the morning. George was figuring his tools would be re-arranged like before, however the tools were not disturbed, but for the next 3 days, his tools simply did not work. Still convinced at this point, was George, that his was the target for the local teen pranksters.

Within a few nights of the early morning incident, George was plagued by this hideous nightmare, where his children were being attacked, and George was powerless to help them. George did not mention specifics other than this nightmare scared the hell out of him, ya know the it was so real- thing. George was confronted with the possibility of a haunting by his wife. For whatever reason the average man wants to refuse this concept, George simply scoffed at the notion. For the next few weeks the house settled without incident, it was not until Georges daughter Becky started to act strangely. This is where the phenomena took an ominous turn, as they say.

George, like any normal parent, would make sure his youngest daughter, Becky, was in bed by 9pm. With loose interpretation, his other 3 daughters were in their teens and self sufficient on their bedroom schedules. I mean 4 daughters, that poor man; imagine trying to use the bathroom in that house! (For any man that is a horror story in itself).

One night when George had noticed that Becky was not in her bed around 9:45 p.m. he was vexed. I remember George saying that his first thoughts centered on that he was not prepared to scold his youngest for disobeying him. Something to the effect of sobs & tears and hardship tactics that would eventually make him look like the bad guy to his youngest girl.

Let us take a moment here; Becky is the youngest, always wanting to enjoy the freedom that her older sisters had, naturally challenging authority. We have all seen the big teary eyed, lip quivering little girl requesting some harmless act like wanting to watch Johnny Carson. My God, I do not know how this man managed?! He has 4 daughters.... ok on with the show.

George was surprised when he noticed that Becky was not with her Mother or her Sisters. George ran back to the Becky's room and started to call for her. Becky responded by opening the closet door from the inside. George inquired," Becky... What are you doing? Why are you not in your bed? And what in the hell are you doing in the closet?" Becky replies," I was talking with the clown Daddy..." as she looks into the empty closet floor.

George has a million thoughts racing through his mind, but after a few moments he mutters," honey, take your friend out of the closet and go to bed, ok?" George is thinking a doll or some stuffed toy, as he is now looking at the empty clean floor of Becky's closet. Becky responds," Daddy, you scared him... He is gone." as she jumps back in bed.

George, on all 4's, was looking into this empty closet floor. Looking for a clown doll or a picture nothing, the floor was clean. George was starring over his shoulder at his little girl behind him in the bed, trying to make sense of what just happened. George simply stood up turned to his daughter, tucked her in and told her to, "Go to sleep now." Becky says cheerfully, sure thing Daddy", she responded with out a care in the world. This felt weird and foreign to George, and he addressed this to his wife over the matter.

George and his wife concluded several possibilities, like imaginary friends or an over active imagination, but they felt that Becky was not in any harm.

Two days later, George decided to check on Becky again. It was 9:30 p.m. and George discovered that Becky was not in her bed; he called for her... again she opens the closet door from the inside. George, a little frustrated, informs Becky that she is not to have nightly rendezvous in her closet. Becky was unaware of George's disapproval at this point. George a little taken back by this behavior, decides to sit down and discuss these events with Becky. From this conversation, George is delivered a hint of what was to come.

Becky informs her Father, that the clown used to own the house. She also adds that the clown has a dislike towards her Father, and that every time George enters the bedroom, this clown gets up and walks through a wall in the closet. Becky gave one final note; that it was the clowns idea to talk in the closet so that nobody would hear him or her converse. Well, George kisses his little girl on the forehead and says, Honey, do not talk with this clown anymore. I do not want you to speak with this clown ever again." Becky smiled and jolted her head up and down as acknowledgement, then she says, He had said that you would tell me this one day." George spoke quietly," go to sleep honey."

George asks his wife to join him out on the patio in the backyard on the warm June evening. George and his wife were concerned. The perplexing issue was how and where to find help for the ghost. George was not 100% confident that a ghost was his problem. Georges wife was quite convinced, and found it a little irritating that George was not facing the music, as they say.

Georges wife, Laura, spoke with neighbors and went so far to visit the Oak Lawn, IL library and the Green Hills Library, to search for records. Laura had discovered that her neighbors did not know a damn thing, and all she was able to find at the two libraries was the town name was changed in 1914 from Worth to The friendly village of Worth. Laura was starting to get overwhelmed with hopelessness.

The very next night George had patiently waited for the time of 9:30 p.m. He makes his way up to Becky's room and has noticed that she is not in her bed. George, knowing the pattern by now, has decided to listen to his daughter. However, he was utterly and shockingly surprised when had heard a male voice accompanied with his daughters. George just froze, felt the hairs on the back on his neck stand. George ripped through the room to the closet door, just as he was about to grab the knob of the door, the door itself, opened about an inch ajar. In the split second to witness this, George was able to see through the now recent crack into the closet, George was able to make out his daughter in the corner of the closet too far from the door, Becky was. George was able to come to the conclusion that his little girl was not the one to open the door just then; he was paralyzed with fear as to what could have opened the door.

As George was assessing the door literally opening itself, the closet light that was brightly shining, went out. Becky started to get very scared and in the midst of this confusion, she started to scream franticly. George made his way into the dark closet and grabbed his daughter, and immediately made his way downstairs, clutching his baby girl close to his chest. The commotion took some time to settle down, at 11:00p.m. That night, Georges family spent the night at his neighbors house. Except for George, he went back to the house and did not sleep a peep. George had asked his neighbor to accompany him that night at the house, the neighbor did just that.

The entire night George and his neighbor sat at the kitchen table talking about all the events leading up to that night, and the conversation lead to, inevitably, ghosts in general. George had reveled that he had not seen or witnessed any ghost in his life. Apparently, George has now heard one, the neighbor commented. George asked his neighbor whether or not if he knew the previous occupants of the house, the neighbor said that it was an older couple, very polite. Before the elderly couple it was unknown, but never a rumor of a haunting or a clown.

All through the night, George and his neighbor talked, and not once did the two men hear or see or even feel another presence in the house. As the night fell into the early hours, George and his neighbor had completely forgotten as to why they were sipping beers at 4:00 a.m. in his kitchen in an empty house.

Day finally came and Georges family assumed business as usual. However, Georges oldest daughter came home around the same time from the community college, about noon. The oldest was in the bathroom when she heard a very ominous laughter come out of thin air. That was it, from that incident; Georges family spent their lives at the neighbors house on a full time basis, until he could figure this out.

George was in a routine that he did not enjoy. He would come home, and make his way to the neighbors house. George would spend about an hour or so and then make his way to his garage, keeping busy working on cars. George was not comfortable placing the burden on his neighbor; this impending feeling of doom would not leave his thoughts.

Within the first week of this new arrangement, Laura was pressing George to involve the Church. George was feeling insecure about the idea, and wanted more time to contemplate his actions. Although George would admit, he had absolutely no idea what his options were, if any. This was 1977, the movie GHOST BUSTERS was 6 years away from its release. There were organizations in Oak Lawn, IL at the time of paranormal research, but without the common use of the Internet and the fact these places did not exactly list themselves in the phone book, how could one come across the use of such practices?

A few nights had passed, and before the second week of the new arrangement was about to come to an end, there was a significant change in the atmosphere. George had recalled finishing all the side jobs that he had pending with his backyard hobby in the garage.

After George spent several hours with his family at his absolutely wonderful neighbors house, he then decided to go home. George a little bored and somewhat feeling empty in his absent house, turned to the T.V. George recalled watching the movie WESTWORLD on WGN. The movie was about halfway in, about the time Yull Brynners character went haywire and started to shoot the guests visiting the futuristic resort, George fell asleep on the couch. George recalled having an extreme nightmare. Where this unknown entity that was haunting his dreams a few weeks prior, where he felt his children were at risk, was now threatening George himself. George awoke very suddenly, and before he could get a grip on his situation, he found himself in the dreaded Sleep Paralysis. George felt a huge weight on his chest; his body felt like it was in a large sponge that was wet, preventing him from moving. George thought that he was still dreaming, until he was able to roll his eyes to the T.V. Where he was able to identify the movie; Yull Brynner provides chase to an unfortunate guest in some underground hallway. George tried to roll his eyes to the clock, but was unsuccessful. George was paralyzed and he kept getting this impression of a clown laughing at him, sitting on his chest. When George recalls the incident, he cannot decipher the fact if he was able to see this entity of a clown or if he imagined it. Eventually George had recognized that it was raining very hard outside, and before he knew it, he was free.

George erected himself from the couch as though he had someone pull him to attention, breathing very hard and still dazed from his nap. There was something brewing in George that he had not felt since this whole ordeal came about. George was loosing all his fear and an intangible rage started to fill his soul. An anger George commented, that he had never felt before. George was without his family, concerned about his daughters, he had the impression he had lost his house the man snapped. Frothing from the mouth, George was screaming on top of his lungs.

From one room to the next in the empty house, George was slamming the doors, punching the walls, challenging his unwanted guest. Cursing obscenities at this unseen foe, George was trying to make it apparent he had enough.

Time had passed and George was able to restrain himself to a sane state. Unaware of how much time had passed in his tangent of explosive anger, he found himself exhausted, and made his way to the kitchen. His throat dry from the insane conformity he found himself surrounded by, he grabbed a beer. George opened his back door and started to find peace by daydreaming into the back yard. The thunderstorm was fantastically wild and bright. Taken in by the storm, George had a feeling sneak up on him, pure fear. George started to look all around him, convinced there was a presence closing in on him. Within moments George felt as though he had made a mistake, like he pushed too far. The impending doom was broken when George heard his equipment in his garage, the air compressor pounding and the sander rattling. Something was catching Georges eye in between the light provided by lightning. As George was focusing he noticed movement in the garage, by the service door window. The window was rhombus shaped, and in the view was a pitch black void. With a few more strikes of thick lightning George was shocked at what was illuminated in that darkness.

Before his eyes George met his unwanted guest:
white face, red nose, yellow hair the looked like two triangles jetting from each side of his bald head, and blackness where the eyes should be. Trying to take this in, George began to hear this sinister laugh that just placed terror in his heart. George turned white as this hideous shrieking laugh just engulfed him.

George bolted to his neighbors house trembling all over. Practically incoherent, George described the events to his neighbor. Georges neighbor decided to inspect the house for himself, and proceeded next door. Visibly the house looked as though it was abandoned with haste. The lights were still on as well as the T.V., and the back door was open. The neighbor looked around the first floor not exactly sure for what purpose. Starting to get the impression that this inspection of the house was futile, the neighbor went to close the back door and shut off the kitchen lights. The neighbor looked into the front room and decided to shut down the T.V. As he stepped across from the linoleum floor to the carpeted dining area, there was a distinct noise from above.

The neighbor could hear water pelting a rug upstairs in the house. Considering the thunderstorm, the neighbor figured there was a window left open on the second floor and the rain was falling through. The neighbor, a courageous man, had no experience surrounding this presence. Somewhat skeptical and never seen anything first hand, the neighbor lacked fear.

He trotted upstairs looking for the window to close, after all insurance companies do not cover water damage.

Sure enough the neighbor came across the door upstairs with graded kindergarten papers tacked all over the door, headed with the name Becky; without question, the sound of water was definitely behind this door. The neighbor started to contemplate the reason for this room to have an oddity at this time, quickly deducing that for what it was obvious, the presence was attracted to Becky.

The neighbor grabbed the handle of Beckys bedroom door and entered the room. Sure enough there was a window opened on the far wall. The neighbor walked causally to the window to close it. As he placed himself in front of the window, the atmosphere in the room became charged. There was a sudden feeling of dread and hopelessness that just washed over the neighbors body. An indescribable notion that there was an influence of cognitive thought pressing the walls of his mind.

The neighbor began to look around the room as though he was going to be smacked at any moment by some invisible force. It was at this time he realized that it would be wise to close the window and leave; within moments that is exactly what he did. As the neighbor turned around to leave, the closet had caught his eye. Whether the fact it was open at the time of his first entering the room or not, it was open now. The neighbor just realized everything seemed to be in black & white, and there was something in the closet that was very black.

Paralyzed the neighbor became aware of the movement of this black abnormality. The blackness seemed to fold on itself slowly, and it began to grow in size. Fear was filling the neighbor as he walked backwards to the door of the room itself. Before the neighbor could walk into the hallway, there was a rustling sound that started. Not looking at the closet the neighbor exited the room and made his way to the stairs. Halfway down the stairs, the neighbor heard Beckys door slam violently. In a full gallop, the neighbor was in the front room heading for the front door. All the time from the stairway to the front room, the neighbor could see blackness cornering his eyesight. Within steps of the front door, the neighbor heard someone scream, Get Out!! Now. It was definitely not that of a man to utter those words, in fact, it just was not human.

A second had passed and the neighbor was out of the house never to step foot inside again. Returning home, the neighbor immediately confronted George to follow him to the front lawn. In the middle of the rain and out of range from Georges family ears, the neighbor addressed George with utmost sincerity Get your family out of that hell hole!

George had invited the local pastor to the house within the week, and then a team of parapsychologists two days later. By the beginning of the next week, George and his family were moved out. The house sat on the market for several months before another family purchased the home. The neighborhood had not heard of this haunting, nor does Becky remember any of the conversations she had with the clown. The new family had not encountered the entity that haunted George and his family. George had briefly stated that there was an exorcism performed and whether or not it was successful, George decided.

As for the skeptics, to simply state that the paranormal does not exist is the best way to show people how ignorant and stupid one could be. The question lies as to where and how these energies draw power for manifestation. Most people do confirm that encounters seem to tap a certain side to our conciseness, and we seem to be vulnerable. Most seem to forget that speaking the Lords prayer does banish the unwanted. As for the events that you just read, are in fact true. I should know. If you have not figured it out by now, I was the neighbor.
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THE FARMHOUSE
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Ok... I know a lot of people dont believe in the unexplainable that we call ghosts. I have always believed in them however, because as a small child I came in daily contact with them, even though I didn't know that's what they were.

My story is set in an old farmhouse that I lived in from the age of 6 months to about 5 1/2 yrs old. There were three distinct entities in that home that I can clearly remember, though there may have been more. Even though I know we shouldn't classify spirits as good or bad its the way I've always thought of these three. One was good, one was neutral, and one was definitely malevolent.

The first spirit (good) was of an old man. Since I was a small child at the time it never occured to me to ask my mother who he was. To me he was just a nice old man that came and played with me when I was lonely or had tea parties and the like. I didn't find out who the man was until about ten yrs after I had moved out of that house.

To my surprise my mom one day pulled out some old family photos and there he was. He turned out to be one of my ancestors although I'd have to run down through my family bible to find out who exactly he was.

The second spirit (neutral) was of more a playful nature... possibly a child. Although I never actually saw this particular ghost it was always moving things around and playing with my dolls and such, which is why I'm led to believe it may have been a child. The most interesting thing this little spirit did was to rearrange the order in which some people in an old painting were sitting. It was a family of four sitting on an old style slat rail fence and every morning my brother and I would run to this picture to see how they would be arranged that day.

There were several occasions when I would wake up at night to see some of my dolls being moved around in a manner that looked as if someone were playing with them. The most interesting part about this ghost though is the painting that he/she would arrange the people in. Although my brother and I both clearly remember going and looking at this picture every day, and we could both draw it identically from memory... my mother swears to this day that she never owned such a picture or one like it and no such thing was hanging in that house when we moved in or when we left.

Where it came from I don't know... where it went I don't know... but mostly I think it's interesting that my brother and I both saw it and remember it so plainly.

Finally, on to the third spirit (bad) that I remember. This fellow was never openly mean or hurtful to anyone although I feel it's only because he never had the opportunity to be. I say he although I never saw him, but often heard him. His footsteps would pace up and down the attic stairs at night, which were directly above my bedroom closet. The footsteps were very heavy sounding, like those of a man in work boots. He'd pace for about 15 minutes every night and then stop. I often saw a shadow moving down the hallway away from the attic door towards my parents bedroom, but it would vanish about halfway down the hall. It wasn't a shadow like someone would cast on a wall but as if someone held a flashlight straight down on you that moved with you... the shadow was always on the floor.

There was also a cool breeze that would follow in the wake of this shadow and would raise the hair all over your body. This man also had a propensity for dolls that I won't go into in detail at this time except to say that there was one doll in particular of mine that I had to eventually get rid of because I was so terrified of the thing. He would move this doll at night and often times I would see it and the shadow that followed this fellow.

The last incident occured one night when I thought my puppy had gotten into my room because I had heard what sounded like an animals claws moving around under the bed, where my puppy liked to hide. I noticed that the doll was missing however and when my mother and I got down and looked the doll was under the bed with one hand hooked into the bed rail on the far side... sort of leaning against the wall as if it had been interrupted climbing into the bed from the wrong side. The following day was when we got rid of that doll.

As a small child I often had what are known as night terrors... which is like a waking nightmare. I often would sleepwalk and wake up in strange places the following morning and only vaguely remember nightmares about a large man that was after me. I feel it was this entity either being picked up subconsciously and frightening me or maybe coming into my room and myself "running" from him in my sleep.

The house has since been torn down and only one family lived in it after my family moved out. It was a very old house, I'd guess around a hundred years old or so... but even that family had some strange things happen to them while living there.

Most interesting is a photograph that they took of themselves (man and wife) standing on the front porch of the old house. Although the porch and the two people in the photo were in sharp focus... the rest of the house was just a blur. If possible I will try to contact the man and see if he still has the photo around anywhere.

Since moving out of that house I have had some unexplained encounters... possibly because I grew up in a house that I was sensitive to them. But I have never seen nor sensed any of the entities that were in that home. So, I feel they stayed behind when we left.

The site where the house was located is now the back loading dock of a local store... I think I'd also like to contact some people that work at this store and see if they've had any strange experiences especially at night.

I hope you have enjoyed reading this and I will likely tell more about my experiences at this house at a later date and let you know if I have gotten a hold of that photo or heard anything back from some of the store's employees.

Thank you.



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Ok, i have submitted a prior story to this site titled the farmhouse, which was just an overview of certain events that occured when I was a small child. I have told a few friends about that house, and it seems the ghost they most wanted to hear about was the "bad guy", so here we go.
That spirit seemed to have an affiliation with dolls for some reason, which was particularly scary for me as I have always had a large collection of dolls. There is an old wives tale called the grandmothers curse, but it can extend really to any family member or close friend of the family.

What the curse entails from the different versions I have heard, is that a family member or friend will have no intentions of buying anything for someone but they pass by a store and just go in. While there they see something and think "This would be PERFECT for so and so!"

Well my grandmother had done that at one point when I was about 4 yrs old. My clearest memories of the "bad" spirit in that house were connected to the doll that she bought me, hence the reason for the title. It was a large doll, about 2 ft. tall, one of those thats made to sit on your bed as a decorative thing. It was made in a classic clown style... red and blue jump suit, white face with blue diamonds around the eyes, big red smile, white gloves, black shoes. The head and hands were porcelain and the rest of the body was plush.

Well, the "bad" spirit, like I said, seemed to like dolls, and that one in particular. That doll gave me the creeps the first time I saw it, and the feeling only got stronger the longer I owned it. I used to make my mother "lock him in the closet" because it frightened me so badly, but then my grandma would come along later and take it out and put it right back on the bed "where it belonged"... this of course in my little childs mind meant "he got out".

My grandma never understood that I was afraid of it and would get upset when it was up out of site as it was an "expensive" doll and "made for decoration". At night, after I would go to bed she had a bad habit of putting the doll in a rocking chair that sat across the room from the side of my bed... so if I woke up I could see "its pretty face"... yeah OK lol.

Well there were many nights in that house that I would wake up terrified from some bad dream or another and here that doll sits looking at me. Well as anyone who's ever had nightmares knows... when you wake up in the night, all colors seem to wash out of things... everything looks black in color not red or blue... so I would see a perfect little white face with black diamonds where the eyes should be and a big gaping black mouth. This was enough to scare me senseless, and I was always afraid that I would see the doll move while I looked at it, which only made things worse as you can imagine.

One night I woke up from a pretty bad dream and when I looked over at the doll it seemed to be sitting at a different angle from the way it was when I fell asleep. I decided to ignore it and try to go back to sleep. No such luck.

I couldn't help looking at it and trying to figure out what was different that night and when I looked the second time the doll was sitting completely sideways in the chair! Well at this point I completely freaked out and started screaming for mom. When she got there she "locked him in the closet" for me so I could sleep...of course, thinking it was all in my imagination.

The following night my grandma had put the doll in that chair again, and again I woke from a pretty vivid nightmare. I look over and the doll was staring right at the bed! I tried to look away, but I was afraid to, I thought if I didn't watch him (don't know why I thought of it as a him) that he would "get me".

As I watched, the doll appeared to turn his head slightly as if laughing at me... well THAT did it... I screamed for mom again and told her what I had seen. She thought it was just the aftereffects of the nightmare causing me to see things. So, in the closet it went again.

On the third night I woke up for no apparent reason (no nightmare this time) and thought perhaps my Dalmatian puppy Bell was in the room because I could hear what sounded like puppy claws on the hardwood floor. This is probably what woke me up. But, when I looked up my door was closed, as it had been all night and I knew Bell was not in my room when I went to bed.

I started getting very scared at this point and looked over at the rocker, but the doll wasn't there. I screamed for my mom at the top of my lungs and she came running (thank god!). When she got to my room I told her what I had heard and she said maybe Bell had walked past my door and that was what I heard.

But, she still agreed to help me look for my doll, she thought maybe my brother had taken it as a prank to scare me. So, we proceeded to search the house starting in my brother's room. We checked everywhere we could think of and found nothing... but the doll wasn't in my closet either.

Before going back to bed I remembered that the noise had seemed to come from under the bed... and we hadn't checked there yet! My mom sort of gave this long suffering sigh and got down to look and I think she saw "something" but didn't know what it was, cause she got this wierd look and started pulling the bed away from the wall.

She pulled the bed about 2 ft and then got on it and looked down the other side by the wall, and after what she saw she let me get rid of the doll the following day.

The doll had been leaning against the wall under the bed with one knee propped up like it was getting ready to stand... and appeared almost to have been trying to pull itself up that side of the bed, because one of the porcelain hands was jammed down into the bed frame. It was jammed in so tight some of the paint rubbed off when mom pulled it loose.

The following day she let me put the clown in a bag and carry it to the garbage myself. Now the part of the curse that's the oddest... is that whoever buys the gift can never seem to understand that someone might be afraid of it. My grandmother had been extremely upset when she found out I had thrown away the doll, and said she never even knew that I was scared of it....even though my mom had told her as much at least a hundred times... and my gram is NOT a forgetful person.

She wanted to go get it out of the garbage and put it right back in my room... but luckily the trash collector had already come by

After about 3 months or so my gram began to realize what had happened and said she never remembered either myself or my mom telling her I had been frightened of the doll.... and to this day she still doesn't know why she bought it... as she never really liked it... but thought it would be "just perfect for her baby".
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Okay - that's enough for now, don't want to over do it.

I agree OHBie (Other Helen Bach w/ cutie "IE" ending), I wouldn't want any possessed or haunted or spiritually attached items in MY home, but hey, that's just my humble opinion.