tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68188007389821548482008-10-03T13:51:22.009-10:00Weird, HawaiiDocumenting the strange and spooky throughout Hawaii.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-37988553836430021712008-09-11T22:49:00.006-10:002008-09-12T12:09:28.544-10:002008-09-12T12:09:28.544-10:00The Eyes in the ClosetInformant: Male/19 years old/mixed ancestry<br />Location: Hilo High School, Big Island<br /><br />During my junior year of high school, my English teacher was pretty weird. She was a hippy-for lack of a better word- and would often describe having "weird psychic feelings" to the class.<br /><br />So one day, we are all sitting in class doing our work when the teacher suddenly stands up and says, "Someone is watching me in that closet."<br /><br />Everybody laughs, thinking this is another one of her not-so-psychic episodes, but the teacher is dead serious.<br /><br />"I'm not kidding guys, I feel like there is something in that closet, watching us and wanting to cause harm," she continues.<br /><br />So everybody is pretty nervous now. We know that our teacher is pretty crazy: she walks everywhere barefoot and thinks she has psychic intuitions, yet there was no denying the fear in her voice. Something was scaring our teacher, and that was scaring us.<br /><br />And so of course, of all people, I'm asked to open the closet.<br /><br />I open the closet, and there is nobody in there. But, somebody had drawn a big pair of eyes with a sharpie on the back wall of the closet. The eyes were very menacing, and it just didn't seem right that someone would draw eyes in a closet that was locked a majority of class time. Honestly, it was very creepy and it gave me chicken skin.<br /><br />Maybe it was all an elaborate hoax that our teacher played on us; an attempt to freak us out after all those times we made fun of her. But after that, that closet always bothered me. I always felt as if someone was watching me from that closet. Other people also complained about similar feelings of being watched from the closet.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-66760866901666850342008-09-09T15:37:00.007-10:002008-09-09T15:56:29.400-10:002008-09-09T15:56:29.400-10:00The Meatroom<div style="margin: 1ex;"> <div> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >I</span><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >nformant: Male/31/ Mixed ancestry<br />Location: Kauai<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CJ66KgS7lhc/SMclZ0Au7rI/AAAAAAAAAFM/87crWs97Lbo/s1600-h/meat+hooks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CJ66KgS7lhc/SMclZ0Au7rI/AAAAAAAAAFM/87crWs97Lbo/s320/meat+hooks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244201416484908722" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >The mid 80’s was a good time for business, especially in the grocery retail sector. Workforce was healthy and sales were on the upswing. Tourism was starting to gain steam and energy costs were down. One store in particular had a hard time retaining workers, particularly in the meat department. Keep in mind that most meat cutters in this one particular store were of Filipino ancestry and speaking out was not something they did. But it started to gain attention when meat cutters would be hired one day, they would work the night shift, and they would quit. No two weeks notice, no nothing, they would just walk off. Eventually management was tasked with filling in and one particular manager, Seiji, and his encounter over a series of three nights is what has prompted me to telling you this tale. </span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >Seiji</span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >"No one wants to go there! I won’t even go there! That place is haunted and it is just not safe." Seiji and I had a chance to talk one day. He had since been retired for over 12 years but is still visibly shaken from his experience. </span><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >You gotta understand, the workers back then, many of them came from the plantation and would not let management know. They refused to speak out against the company or their bosses. They came and went until finally I got stuck working nights in the meat room. My primary responsibility was to clean carcasses and prep them for the next day’s butchers and clean the meat room down.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" > The first night I was there, the store had just closed and it was me and the office manager left in the store. I walked up front to let her out and told her I still had to shoot the meat room down. As I walked back the music started playing over the speakers. How weird! We always turn the music off and I swear it was off, but it just turned on! I walked back, opened the office door and turned it back off.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >As I rounded the corner the light in the meat room was off and I swear I left it on. I hit the switch but no light. I flicked the switch up and down but still no light. I walked up front to the office to grab the keys to the storage room and as I headed to the back office I noticed that the light in the meat room was back on again. By now I was starting to get a little scared but growing up in Waimea Valley, we encounter lots of strange happenings. I had to shoot the meat room down and sterilize the equipment before I went home and since there were no carcasses to clean, I was looking forward to getting home a little early.</span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >Tuesday Night</span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >I felt very groggy all day and called in to see if it was okay to come in right before closing. Our manger said that it was okay but there were three pig carcasses that came in and they needed to be prepped for tomorrow. I came in shortly before 10 p.m. just in time to let her out and start work. As I walked to the meat room I was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of rotting flesh. It was horrible! Smelled like a dead rat! This is not something that you want in a grocery store and definitely not something you want in your meat room. As soon as I flicked on the light, the smell was gone. I tried to walk around to see if I could smell it but it was no longer present. I told myself how funny the tricks that your mind plays on you. I opened the walk in chill and saw three pig carcasses hanging from stainless steel meat hooks. They were butterflied and needed some prepping for tomorrow. Prepping these carcasses involved butchering them into smaller more manageable cuts so the butchers can handle them better to get you pork cutlets, tenderloins, and Boston butts wrapped up and placed on the shelf for you to buy. I unhooked my first carcass and wheeled it to the cutting room table. All of a sudden, I heard the distinct sound of the meat saw buzzing away.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >What the hell!!! A meat room is a place of safety, all equipment is secured, the floors are clean and slip resistant, and there is a place for everything and everything is in its place. So for a meat saw, which is basically a table mounted circular saw starts to go off on its own, it sends shivers up you spine. I walked over to hit the switch and noticed it was in the off position. I went to pull the plug and it wasn’t even plugged in! By this time I was truly petrified with fear. I started to run towards the door when all of a sudden it shut off. Back then I tried to convince myself that there must have been some electric current that was store in the motor but we all know this is physically impossible as there are no batteries in a saw.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >And that smell, it started up again.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >The smell of decomposing flesh was thick and overwhelmed me as I dry heaved three or four times. I walked around trying to locate the source but could not find it. All of a sudden, I heard a soft buzzing sound. It sounded like hundreds of flies hovering but there were none in sight. I walked slowly to the walk in chill and put my ear to the door. I could hear a sound that sounded like hundreds if not thousands of flies were in the walk in chill. Suddenly from in the chill I could hear the sound of metal creaking. Squeak squeak squeak. Like a squeaky tire. I opened up the door and what I saw next still haunts me to this day.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >One of the remaining pig carcasses that was hanging on a hook was swinging back and forth as if someone was pushing it. And when I say swinging it was almost hitting the roof of the chill. I tried to run, my mind told me to run but I froze. I couldn’t move. And there I was, watching as this carcass dangled from a meat hook swinging back and forth like a kid being pushed by their daddy on the swings. I don’t remember what happened next except I awoke the next morning from our boss’s tapping on my window. I had slept in my car in the store parking lot. I rolled my window down and he was furious.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >"Seiji! You left the goddam meat room in a mess! The walk in chill door was open and all the meat has to be thrown out!" I tried to explain, but I could tell he thought I was making it up. I ended up being suspended for three days. I live alone, and my closest neighbor is a five minute walk down a dirt path. I never felt lonely or afraid of being alone but those three days were hard to deal with. I mentioned it to no one except co-workers were calling and asking what the hell happened. I am fortunate that my boss had the courtesy to keep our short conversation to himself. I returned to work but refused to take the night duties. I was fortunate to be put back on my regular schedule. My boss talked about the incidence once and had decided that the long nights and my body’s sleep pattern had caused my mind to play tricks on me. I didn’t imagine this. Those extreme incidents never happened again but I would hear stories from time to time that knives were misplaced, or equipment had moved, their was even talk in the break room of a saw turning itself on but it was typical lunch room chatter and they usually dismissed it with blaming a co worker or how the company needed to buy a new saw.<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >One night, there was a false alarm and our boss went in to reset the alarm, I don’t know what happened but the very next day, he had rescheduled our shifts to eliminate anyone from staying in the store past closing. He asked management to bless the store and a few weeks later a kahuna came in. We all walked with her as she chanted and sprinkled water mixed with Hawaiian salt. She dipped her ti leaf into a bowl and sprinkled the walls, the workers, and the floor. She stopped in front of the meat room and her chants grew dim and she had stopped sprinkling her salt water. She stood in front of the door and her eyes were wide as if she had saw or felt something terrifying. She turned back to the company President and whispered something in his ear. I looked over at my boss and his eyes were wide and I knew that he had encountered something that night when he came into the store to reset the alarm. The company president turned to us and said, "She’s going in by herself so we can all just wait here. It is too cramped and we can’t take the risk of anyone getting hurt with all the dangerous equipment we have in there."We waited outside for 20 minutes until finally she emerged drenched in sweat and looking as if she had run a marathon. She told us everything is fine now, everything we’ll be okay. We walked the rest of the store and enjoyed some pupu and refreshments in the break room after.</span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >Nothing really happened after that night. A few years ago I ran into the old Hawaiian lady who blesses our store. She hadn’t even aged a bit. I asked her if she remembered blessing the store and she smiled and said, “I have blessed so much stores it is hard to remember which one.” Instead of stating which store I figured why relive a moment that I was trying to put behind me. So I said farewell, kissed her goodbye and walked off. I took a few steps and heard the old Hawaiian lady say, “The meat room was built over the graves of three young children, they meant no harm. They was just being kolohe.”<br /></span></p><p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >My hair stood on the back of my neck as I turned around. She stood there, smiling. "They died many years ago, before the store was built. They died playing when their house burned down. They were playing with the oil lamp. They died from being mischievous. They were still causing mischief, I had to scold them. You know kids, they are kolohe" </span></p> <p><span style=";font-family:Cambria;font-size:100%;" >I never saw the old Hawaiian lady again.</span></p></div> </div>Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-29088726106099426582008-09-04T00:29:00.003-10:002008-09-04T11:57:51.814-10:002008-09-04T11:57:51.814-10:00Invisible PassengerInformant: Male/30/Filipino ancestry<br />Location: Koloa, Kauai <br /><br />I was driving to work one night and decided to take the bypass road. I was following this truck for most of the way. We came up to this point in the road that crossed an old cemetery, when the truck ahead of me pulled over suddenly. I thought that something was wrong with his truck, so I was going to pull over and ask if he needed any help. The truck was pulled over right under a street light, so I could see the driver in the driver's seat. Then I saw the passenger door open. <br /><br />Nobody was there. <br /><br />I saw the door open, and it looked like someone got into the passengers seat of the car because I saw the truck shift as if under the weight of a person. But under the street light I could see inside, and there was nobody there, but the driver was talking as if someone was sitting next to him. <br /><br />I decided it was wise to just continue on to work.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-42103160170567701932008-09-04T00:23:00.006-10:002008-09-04T13:08:46.959-10:002008-09-04T13:08:46.959-10:00The Running ManInformant: Male/30/Filipino Ancestry<br />Location: Tunnel of Trees, Kauai<br /><br />I was out one night with some friends partying. Believe it or not, I didn't have one drink or smoke anything weird. I was dead sober that night. Around 3am I was driving through the Tunnel of Trees on my way home. All of a sudden I see something out of the corner of my eye.<br /><br />A man was running along side my car.<br /><br />I wasn't driving 5 mph. I was driving normal speeds, probably around 50 mph. I couldn't see his face or make out facial features since it was dark, but I could see his arms and torso pumping as he was running. So I was like "forget this," and I gunned it. 80 mph. The guy catches up to me, running. So I gun it again. 110 mph. The guy is <span style="font-style: italic;">still </span>running next to my car. I look over at him, and all I see are red, glowing eyes.<br /><br />The next day I told my aunty what happened, and she said whoever that was wanted me dead. That road is really windy, and I could have easily driven off the cliff.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-62902705158020982932008-09-02T00:37:00.002-10:002008-09-02T00:46:03.090-10:002008-09-02T00:46:03.090-10:00The Woman Next DoorInformant: Male/40/Hawaiian-mixed ancestry<br />Location: Aliomanu, Kauai<br /><br />Our family owned a beach house on the north-east side of Kaua'i. Our whole family, cousins and aunty's and uncles, would spend the summer there. The lone occupant of the small house next to us was a woman whom my family was friendly with. We would see her all the time, and it seemed she always wore the same clothes every day, with a big hat. Then one day, we found out she had died. <br /><br />One night me and 3 of my cousins went down to the beach house to have a bon fire and some drinks. We were talking story and having a good time, talking about ghosts and things like that. When 2am rolled around, we had all passed out right there on the beach in front of the house. All of a sudden we were awoken by a soft tap on our shoulders. <br /><br />I opened my eyes, and the woman from next door was standing in front of me, wearing the same clothes and the big hat she always wore. She said to us, "You boys better get in the house." <br /><br />We ran into the house. We had all seen her, and we all knew she was the dead woman from next door.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-48540633408795227662008-08-22T18:30:00.001-10:002008-08-22T18:32:47.147-10:002008-08-22T18:32:47.147-10:00More Than a Human VisitorInformant: Female/24/Japanese-European ancestry<br />Location: Makiki, Oahu<br /><br />One sunny afternoon Jane was doing her laundry while her roommate, Sara, took a nap in the next room. The laundry room was next door to their apartment, so on this particular day the door was unlocked. Jane retrieved her clothes from the dryer and went to her room to fold her clothes, but she forgot to lock the door. <br /><br />Once in her room, she thought she saw something in the hall in the corner of her eye, but when she looked up, nothing was there. After a few minutes she heard Sara talking to herself. She figured Sara was just having another odd dream since she was saying “Hello? Who are you? What is your name little girl?” Jane didn’t pay any attention to it and kept folding. A few minutes later she heard Sara say, “No not on that. Let’s go watch it in the living room on the tv.” <br />That got Jane’s attention. <br /><br />She put her clothes down and was about to go into Sara’s room when Sara appeared in the hall with a nine year old girl carrying a DVD. She was guiding the girl into the living room and asked Jane why she let the little girl into the apartment. Jane couldn’t believe the little girl was there and said she didn’t let her in. Just as Sara got the little girl to the living room, the girl lost interest and walked out of the apartment without a word. Sara followed her into the hall and saw a woman calling for her. They assumed the woman was the child’s mother. She apologized for the girl barging in like she did.<br /><br />They shut the door and started to talk about what happened. Neither one could believe it. Apparently when the girl walked into Sara’s room, she went straight for her computer to play a DVD. It was odd because it seemed like the girl knew exactly where to go in an apartment she had never been in. She never said a word to Sara either. They decided to forget the incident and write it off as a bazaar day.<br /><br />Six months went by, and the building went up for sale. Jane and Sara had to move out. They needed a break from packing and cleaning, so they went to a friend’s house to relax. Somehow the conversation was focused on ghost stories before everyone was about to leave. By the end of the conversation no one wanted to go home alone, and Jane and Sara were glad they had each other. <br /><br />On the drive home, Sara asked Jane if she ever felt weird in their apartment. Jane asked her what she meant. Sara said that she felt a bad presence in the apartment. She started to notice it around the time the little girl appeared in our apartment. When she was in the bathroom in the morning, she often didn’t want to wash her face because she didn’t want to close her eyes. Or when she was in the shower at night she didn’t want to close her eyes, and sometimes felt like someone was on the other side of the curtain. The shower curtain that they had was opaque so she could tell no one was there, but she felt like someone…someone bad…was in the bathroom with her. <br /><br />Jane just stared at her in shock and Sara tried to convince her that she wasn’t crazy, and went on to tell her that when her sister visited a few months after they had moved in, her sister had the same experience, and said that she didn’t feel comfortable in the apartment. After a few moments, Jane told Sara that she knew exactly what she was talking about and felt the same things. Jane however thought it was because it was her first time living on her own, and the times that she felt those things, Sara wasn’t at home. So Jane shrugged the bad feelings off as just being afraid of being alone at night. <br /><br />By this time the two roommates were close to their apartment, but neither one wanted to go back at this point. So Jane kept on driving. Sara continued to tell her that she felt a really bad feeling in her room. She often felt a presence in her closet, a female presence. She even admitted that one night when Jane was away for the weekend, she was so afraid of sleeping in her room that she slept in Jane’s bed. She felt safe in Jane’s room. Jane told Sara that many times she would pick up the mail or have something she wanted to leave for Sara and went to put it in her room, but always felt like she shouldn’t be in there. It was just an eerie bad feeling. Jane shrugged if off thinking it was because it was Sara’s room and she just didn’t want to be invading her privacy. But Sara told her that was how she felt nearly every day stepping into her own room. <br /><br /> Sara said that every now and then when she woke up in the morning, she would feel a pressing on her chest and she wouldn’t be able to move, get up, or say anything. Eventually she found out that if she swore out loud or even in her mind, it would go away. And sure enough, every time she did that when she felt pressed, it would almost instantly stop. The two girls agreed that they felt the bad feelings only in the bathroom, Sara’s room, and the path that led between it. <br /><br />It was really late and Jane was too tired to drive anymore, so the two roommates went home and did their best to forget what happened. They couldn’t believe that they each felt this way for months but never talked about it until that night. But they were sure glad that they would be moving in a few weeks.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-69610115645581169032008-07-31T17:15:00.001-10:002008-07-31T17:21:50.144-10:002008-07-31T17:21:50.144-10:00The Scent of Pikake<meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 10"><link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CKATERI%7E1.MR_%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="State"></o:smarttagtype><o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"></o:smarttagtype><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal">Informant: Male/age 63 years/ Caucasian-Hawaiian ancestry<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">Location: <st1:place>Oahu</st1:place>, <st1:place>Diamond Head</st1:place>/ <st1:city><st1:place>Los Angeles</st1:place></st1:city>, <st1:place><st1:city>Silverlake District</st1:city>, <st1:state>California</st1:state></st1:place><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">In my family, there is an old family tale that if you ever smell pikake when there are no flowers to be seen, it means someone who has "passed" is in your presence. After my Dad passed, my Mom claimed she used to get the pikake scent all the time in our house at <st1:place>Diamond Head</st1:place>, particularly in the kitchen for some reason. At the same time that she'd smell pikake, our dog Ele'ele, who simply worshiped my Dad, would go bonkers, barking like crazy.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">Curiously, on my last visit to <st1:state><st1:place>Hawaii</st1:place></st1:state> I drove by the old house and the new owners were out front so I stopped and introduced myself. When I asked what they thought of the house, the wife just blurted out: "We used to think the place was haunted." When I asked why she thought that, the woman said: "We've lived here about 20 years and when we first moved in, from time to time, I swear I could heard someone strumming an ukulele out on the lanai. No one in our family plays an ukulele and we don't even own one. This ukulele things eventually stopped about 15 years ago. Then, there was this dog. Once in awhile I'd be looking out the kitchen window and see this black dog lying in the grass in the back yard. The yard is completely fenced and when we'd go into the backyard to check, the dog was never there. None of the neighbors had a dog like that. We stopped seeing the dog about the time the ukulele music stopped."<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I then wished the couple well and, with chicken skin in full eruption, I left without telling them that my Dad, who passed away in the house, was an expert ukulele player nor did I mention our black dog, Ele'ele. I later realized that their ukulele and dog experiences probably ceased about the same time that my Mom passed away. I'm hoping they all found one another in the hereafter.<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br />In 1993 I moved from <st1:state><st1:place>Oregon</st1:place></st1:state> to <st1:city><st1:place>Los Angeles</st1:place></st1:city> to accept a new job and immediately began looking to buy a home. One day, a friend of mine, my realtor and I went to see a house in the Silverlake district. My realtor told us that no one was home and we could spend as much time at the house as we wished.
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<br />After one initial tour of the house, I was very impressed and definitely interested in it. I then decided to go back upstairs to take another look at the bedrooms while my friend and realtor chatted out by the pool. As I got to the top of the stairs, an elderly Asian woman walked past me down the hall. As she passed, she glanced at me, expressionless, and said nothing. Startled, I immediately apologized for intruding, explained that I had thought no one was home, turned around, and began quickly going back down the stairs.
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<br />When I got outside, I told my realtor that someone <i>was</i> home because an old lady had just scared the crap out of me upstairs. The realtor swore no one was home and called the listing agent who confirmed that a young couple lived in the house and they were both at work. As she was talking on the phone, we all noticed a strong sent of jasmine (pikake). I looked around and saw no indication of blooming jasmine. It was then that I remembered our old family tale.
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<br />At that, I said, "Let's get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Just as I said this, we heard a loud bang like a door slamming upstairs and we immediately raced one another for the front door. As we darted through the living room I took a closer look at a large portrait of an elderly Asian woman that was hanging on the wall above the fireplace. It was the lady I had seen upstairs!
<br />
<br />When we got back to our cars, I told the realtor about the picture of the lady and I insisted that my realtor find out who she was. The listing agent reported that the picture was that of the owner's Mother who had passed away several years ago. Needless to say, I did not make an offer on the house!<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-23698186925925853972008-07-30T17:31:00.002-10:002008-07-30T17:41:43.762-10:002008-07-30T17:41:43.762-10:00Whistling After DarkInformant: Female/36/Filipino ancestry<br />Location: Wahiawa, Hawaii<br /><br />When I was a little girl, I never went to summer camp like my son. I stayed home and played with the neighborhood kids. There were only a few of us in the neighborhood but we all had nice yards with swing sets. We would keep playing until it got dark and our parents would yell from the front door to get inside and eat dinner. But late one afternoon I decided to stay out a little longer to play.<br /><br />I played on the swing and I tried to swing higher and higher. I did chin-ups using the t-shaped post that held the clothes line and I practiced my whistling because I was the only one that couldn't whistle. It was so frustrating because everyone else could whistle and I couldn't. I wanted to be like the big kids so I kept trying and trying. When I finally got it, I was dizzy and it was dark.<br /><br />I remember my mom telling me to come inside and to stop whistling because it would <a href="http://www.weirdhawaii.com/2008/07/superstitions-i-grew-up-with.html">attract ghosts. </a>I didn't believe her until I saw the bruises on my arm.<br /><br />There were two bruises. Mom demonstrated how I was pinched by placing her fingers directly on top of each bruise.<br /><br />After that incident, I never played outside after dark.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-41799520360912682442008-07-25T06:34:00.001-10:002008-07-25T06:39:06.144-10:002008-07-25T06:39:06.144-10:00The RaincoatInformant: Female/20/Mixed ancestry<br />Location: Mililani, Oahu<br /><br />This happened again recently. I thought it was just a trick of the eye, but it can't be if I've seen it twice.<br /><br />I was driving home one evening and it was raining. Not super hard, but enough to make me slightly more cautious on the road. I turn the corner to go home when out of the corner of my eye I see an older woman walking in the rain at a distance. She was pale, like a washed out black and white photograph, but her raincoat was a light lavender. I didn't get to see her face because her small black umbrella was covering it, but I knew she was older because of her long white hair. She was walking toward a tree and I didn't see her appear on the other side. I brushed it off and continued driving down the road when I see her a little closer again, out of no where. But just a glimpse this time and then she is gone. I looked in my rear view mirror and didn't see anyone. I chucked it up to me being really tired and a trick of the headlights on the rain.<br /><br />It rained again today in the late afternoon. The sky was dark and I was driving home on the same road. Then I see her again. Just a flash of lavender and it's gone. I checked in my rear view mirror and, again, did not see anyone. I don't know if this is a ghost or someone who is really good at vanishing tricks, but it gave me the heebie-jeebies.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-60089794957604405242008-07-23T17:20:00.004-10:002008-07-23T17:44:16.888-10:002008-07-23T17:44:16.888-10:00Maybe a bit more than dreaming...Informant: Male/19 years old/Mixed Ancestry<br />Location:University of Hawaii at Hilo dorms, Big Island<br /><br />I have had some pretty strange dreams. Not too long ago, I had one that I thought was pretty bizarre and featured it in this blog. However, this dream takes the cake. This is not only the single most strangest dream of my life, but it also maybe one of the most inexplicable occurrence of my life.<br /><br />In my dream, I get out of my bed, and walk down the hall to the community bathroom for my dorm. In the bathroom, I turn on all the faucets and showers. The water is scalding hot and steam is beginning to fill the bathroom. After the temperature has risen a considerable amount, I undress myself, walk into the showers, and sit under the water.<br /><br />The water is extremely hot and I'm literally cooking myself to death. I feel the burning sensation and I'm screaming in pain. I look at my arms and I see that blisters and burns are beginning to form. However, I continue to sit under the water.<br /><br />At this moment in my dream, I lose consciousness and I wake up from my sleep. I'm soaked with sweat and I'm having a bit of trouble of breathing. I look down at my at my arms and there are no marks or blisters of any kind. At this moment I have to use the restroom.<br /><br />As I'm walking down the hall, I can hear water running. I just figure it's one of the students taking an early morning shower. However, I get into the bathroom, and it is filled with steam. All of the faucets and showers are on, the water extremely hot. I go to turn off the showers, but the water is so hot that the pipes are hot too. I had to take off my shirt and wrap it around my hand so that I wouldn't burn myself turning off the faucets and showers.<br /><br />The next morning, I talked to each of the students living in my wing and asked them about turning on the water in the bathrooms. All of them told me that they were completely asleep at the time of the incident.<br /><br />I may have been sleepwalking, however, my door is locked at all times, I do not know how I would've been able to get back into my dorm after I turned on all the faucets and showers. This is an incident I'm afraid will never have a logical explanation.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-71094149537659032982008-07-20T12:05:00.005-10:002008-07-20T16:41:59.834-10:002008-07-20T16:41:59.834-10:00Comfort in DreamsInformant: Female/23/Korean ancestry<br />Location: Kapaa, Kauai<br /><br />Not too long after my grandmother died, I had a dream about her. We were all sitting in my Aunty's living room. My grandma was sitting in a chair near the window, wearing the green long sleeve shirt she always wore, and she was laughing her head off, like she just heard the funniest thing in the world.<br /><br />And that was the end of my dream.<br /><br />I told my mom about it the next morning, and of course it brought a tear to her eye since the grief was still fresh. My dad didn't mention it to me, but mentioned to my mom later:<br /><br />"I had the exact same dream last night."Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-40090920562728760562008-07-14T19:46:00.001-10:002008-07-14T19:51:03.158-10:002008-07-14T19:51:03.158-10:00ParalyzedInformant: Female/18 years old/Caucasian Ancestry<br />Location: Hilo, by the side of the Wailuku River, Big Island<br /><br />When I was about fourteen, I woke up in the middle of the night suddenly. There was no noise, I was just suddenly awake. However, I couldn't move a muscle. My legs, hands, arms, toes, eyelids, everything, felt like it was paralyzed. I started to freak out, thinking something was wrong. I strained and strained but I couldn't move anything.<br /><br />Suddenly, out of the dark, I heard someone whisper my name. "Julia!" it whispered. The voice was that of an older male, and I heard it right next to my ear. Now I was really freaked out, I honestly felt someone was there.<br /><br />A few seconds later (that seemed like hours) I snapped out of it and could move normally. I checked everywhere in my room and there was no one there. My brother was sleeping soundly across the hall and I couldn't figure it out.<br /><br />I laid awake for the rest of the night, wondering if the voice would come back. It never has.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-2736383602715447642008-07-14T19:28:00.009-10:002008-07-16T14:19:39.394-10:002008-07-16T14:19:39.394-10:00Wrong NumberInformant: Male/ 15 years old/ Filipino Ancestry<br />Location: University of Hawaii at Hilo dorms, Big Island<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CJ66KgS7lhc/SH6OPTtA3nI/AAAAAAAAAE0/YHiiZfRHUxw/s1600-h/sparkfun_rotary_phone_1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_CJ66KgS7lhc/SH6OPTtA3nI/AAAAAAAAAE0/YHiiZfRHUxw/s200/sparkfun_rotary_phone_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223769011434610290" border="0" /></a>This story actually comes from my uncle.<br /><br />He was attending the university during the 70's and had just moved into the dorms. As a gift, his parents bought him a phone that he could plug into the phone jacks so he could keep in touch with family.<br /><br />Within minutes of plugging his telephone into the jack, he got his first phone call.<br /><br />"Hello? Is Jim there?" sobbed the woman on the other end of the line.<br /><br />"No, sorry, you got the wrong number," my uncle replied. The woman cried for a bit, then hung up the phone.<br /><br />Later on that night, my uncle got a phone call from that same woman. A woman crying and asking for Jim. The phone calls continued for at least once a day for the rest of the semester. My uncle pitied the woman,so he didn't really do anything about it. He would just pick up the phone and listen to her ask for Jim and then weep. He would then say "wrong number" and wait for her to hang up. A couple of times, he tried to talk to the woman and see if he could help her find the right number, but it was as if she didn't care for what he had to say. She only wanted to know if Jim was there.<br /><br />Finally at the end of the semester, my uncle started to move out of the dorms. As he was emptying out the drawers from his desk, he noticed something was carved into the bottom of one them.<br /><br />It was a big heart with words in the middle saying: "R.I.P Jim."dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-24445683750792182772008-07-10T22:54:00.005-10:002008-07-10T23:05:45.140-10:002008-07-10T23:05:45.140-10:00Superstitions I Grew Up WithA long time ago I was at a pool party at my friend's house. After hours of playing in the sun without any proper protection, majority of us were sunburned. After we had all showered and eaten, we went in search of pain relief. There were some aloe plants in the yard, so me and 2 other friends went to cut some. When we returned, some of our friends scolded us saying that we shouldn't cut plants at night because it attracts the spirits. I had never heard of this before, and this was just the beginning of many superstitions that I have accumulated over the years.<br /><br />At the new year, I've heard that you shouldn't sweep your house because you sweep all the good luck away. I think this is a Japanese superstition, but I am not entirely sure as I am not Japanese.<br /><br />I try to refrain from whistling at night, because this is also said to attract spirits. I don't know the origin of this superstition.<br /><br />Pointing at graveyards and gravestones is taboo. If you point, the spirit of the dead will grab onto your finger and not let go. I actually recall something like this in the movie "League of Their Own," but they crossed their fingers and held it over their heads.<br /><br />I know that there are more, but I can't seem to think of them all at the moment. I invite you to add your own superstitions that you've grown up with or heard of!Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-91645422729035590552008-07-03T13:25:00.002-10:002008-07-03T13:27:41.710-10:002008-07-03T13:27:41.710-10:00Gone for a few daysJust to let everyone know that we're going to be gone until sunday. But don't worry, there are at least 2 new stories that will be posted when we get back! Make sure you subscribe to our mailing list to get the updates.<br /><br />Weird, Hawaii staffdgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-21085511200203067462008-06-28T23:35:00.004-10:002008-06-28T23:53:26.146-10:002008-06-28T23:53:26.146-10:00A Baby's CryInformant: Male/18 Years Old/Mixed Ancestry<br />Location: Richardson's Beach Park, Big Island<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.letsgo-hawaii.com/beaches/richardson1206_03c4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.letsgo-hawaii.com/beaches/richardson1206_03c4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>One evening, around 2 a.m. my friend and I decided that we should go to the beach and try crab fishing. We were bored and nothing else to do, and thought that it would be fun if we tried it.<br /><br />We ended up going to <a href="http://www.letsgo-hawaii.com/beaches/richardsons.html">Richardson's beach</a>. When we got there it was an extremely clear night. You could see everything because of how bright the moon and stars were that night. The tide was abnormally low.<br /><br />After a walking along the beach to look for a spot to look for crabs, I spotted the perfect spot.<br /><br />"Hey, let's go over there," I pointed to my friend. As if it was on cue, the wind picked up and we heard a single, but loud, baby's cry. It was so loud, my friend and I were convinced that the baby it had come from needed to have been on the beach with us. We combed that beach completely, looking for the baby. We didn't find anything.<br /><br />After searching for quite some time, we decided to leave. There was just something eerie about the baby's cry and the wind. We didn't feel comfortable staying there any longer than we had to.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-73792629724734888412008-06-27T22:05:00.005-10:002008-06-27T22:14:50.793-10:002008-06-27T22:14:50.793-10:00The Old Japanese ManInformant: Male/Age Unknown/Ancestry Unknown<br />Location: Pearl City Heights, Oahu<br /><br />This happened back in the mid-eighties, around 1985. My friend's house was built on a grave of a Japanese man. At first it was just odd noises. Then lights would come on, and then the showers. These disturbances would happen whenever everyone was together in another room. We would always make sure everything was off when we left the house, but sometimes we would get a call saying that we left the water running and the lights on. The disturbances graduated to doors slamming real loud, and what sounded like really heavy footsteps. Almost like someone was stomping on purpose.<br /><br />My friend's parents finally decided to call some kind of holy man. I wasn't there at that time since they only wanted the family to be present, but the holy man walked through the house with <a href="http://www.seanachaidh.com/pendulum.html">some kind of pendant</a>. It started going in circles until it was straight out. Then he started talking in a very different voice that was not his own. My friend said that it was the voice of the old Japanese man that was buried on the property.<br /><br />The holy man told the family what to do and besides an odd noise every now and then, all was good. But the spirit of the Japanese man was really pissed and he let the family know it.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-53045527146608221752008-06-27T22:03:00.003-10:002008-06-27T22:04:45.580-10:002008-06-27T22:04:45.580-10:00Please Excuse the AbsenceSo sorry for the lack of posting. Kat was busy moving from Oahu back to Kauai and had no time to post (as well as no internet access). David has currently taken on a new job that takes up majority of his time. But things are less hectic now, so posting should hopefully resume normally. And as always, we depend on you to share your experiences! Without your stories, we would have no site. Keep it coming!<br /><br />Weird, Hawaii staffKaterihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-88598146391279706352008-06-19T15:14:00.002-10:002008-06-19T15:16:42.906-10:002008-06-19T15:16:42.906-10:00Believing<b><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:16;" ></span></b> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >Informant: Female/23/Mixed ancestry<br />Location: Chaminade University, Oahu</span></p><p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >I had never put much faith in ghosts, haunts, poltergeists or other floaty white transparent beings.<span> </span>I believed in God and while he did have spiritual phenomena, many of the scary tales bobbing around were just that; scary tales to keep children in line, or to impress, or to make your loved one's skin crawl and want to jump into your arms.<span> </span>They were good to listen to and occasionally gave me nightmares, but I never started looking over my shoulder for them or keeping my ears pricked for strange bumps in the night.<span> </span>If there were any, those were usually my neighbors having sex or the people above me stomping on the floor, somehow believing that this would oil the afore mentioned neighbors bedsprings or pad their headboard.</span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >I wish we had headboards to bang in our dorm rooms in college; that way we would have been able to tell without knocking that we shouldn't interrupt.<span> </span>I wish that night that I had someone to sleep with and to reassure me that what happened was a dream, that I had my eyes closed the whole time and I was muttering crazy things.<span> </span>But as it was, I was alone and exposed.</span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >How do I know it wasn't a dream?<span> </span>Because you don't dream about trying to go back to sleep.<span> </span>And I swear as I felt the pressure settle on my chest, I saw the blankets and covers flatten.<span> </span>It was as if someone had just settled down and sat on my chest, but slowly increased how much weight they were putting on me.</span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >My mind whirled.<span> </span>I had heard of these.<span> </span>Most describe this kind of experience as a brush with the sitting ghost, an old woman with scraggly gray hair that slowly tries to crush the breath out of you but never succeeds.<span> </span>I also heard of these beings as demons with tails, similar to succubae.<span> </span>(Although, whoever would be seduced by a being like this must be a freak who's into asphyxiation).<span> </span></span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >My eyes rolled to the side and saw my roommate sleeping peacefully in her own bed, I tried to yell to tell her to help me, but nothing came out.<span> </span>In fact the weight pressure quickened, almost as if the being on me was incensed by my mouth uselessly moving.<span> </span>I felt the thing get heavier and heavier and I went from having a hard time breathing, to having difficulty taking in any air at all.<span> </span>I looked down at my own body and saw nothing but an indentation.</span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >It became painful and I started to see purple and green spots dancing in front of my eyes.<span> </span>I remembered a conversation a long time ago that I must have faith that God would keep me from these creatures; that I should pray and then laugh.<span> </span>Malevolent spirits supposedly hate being laughed at.</span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >I gathered my remaining energy and breath and started praying for His protection.<span> </span>A surge of confidence rushed through me and I said aloud, "Begone evil spirit.<span> </span>I am not frightened; I am a child of God."<span> </span>A small laugh of contempt for this poor creature that had nothing better to do<span> </span>pressed through my lips.<span> </span>I pushed my shoulder, chest and stomach upwards, trying to turn on my side and upset the ghost's balance. </span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >Sure enough I felt a weight start sliding off my body.<span> </span>As it did so I heard an old woman's low cackle before the heaviness completely lifted.<span> </span>It was a little chilling, but the knowledge that such a ghost had never killed anyone and that I had the protection of the Lord made me secure.<span> </span>I also knew that if it ever happened again I knew exactly what to do.</span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >Of course I still stared at the upper frame of my door shaken by my experience.<span> </span>Who knew that those ghouls were real?<span> </span>I held fast to my newfound confidence, but still could not manage to sleep.<span> </span></span></p> <p><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >This is probably why I mostly sleep on my side today, to make it harder for any spirits to balance on my body and make it harder for them to obstruct my breathing.</span></p>Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-29448118035653893622008-06-15T10:40:00.006-10:002008-06-25T08:36:12.863-10:002008-06-25T08:36:12.863-10:00It Knew My Name...Informant: Male/? years old/? ancestry<br />Location: Ahae'ho'omalu, Big Island<br /><br />The following is true and I was not on any kind of drug or alcohol, nor was I dreaming. I lived on Kauai for about 15 years spending my high school years there. I had heard many bizarre and spooky stories, including stories about the Night Marchers. I had no idea that one day I would encounter them up close!<br /> <p>In May of 1995 I went to the Big Island for a job interview. I didn't get the job and I was "marooned" on the island, as I was broke and didn't know anybody. I pitched a tent in <a href="http://www.kaahelehawaii.com/pages/hele_mai.htm">Anae'ho'omalu</a>, on the Kona side of the Big Island, far enough away from the resort area where I would not be easily found. This would be my "base camp" until I could get myself on my feet again.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://pictopia.com/perl/get_image?provider_id=213&size=550x550_mb&ptp_photo_id=1012337"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://pictopia.com/perl/get_image?provider_id=213&size=550x550_mb&ptp_photo_id=1012337" alt="" border="0" /></a><p><br />My tent was well hidden in the Ke'awe and you could not see it unless you knew it was there. I pitched the tent on the only flat ground as the area is all lava fields. I saw many petroglyphs and a partially collapsed wall where I pitched my tent next to, utilizing the flat ground.<br /><br />One night, during the later part of the month when the moon was waning and crescent-shaped, I bedded down. It was about 10:15pm and I was just nodding off to sleep when quickly I came to my senses because I heard someone walking past my tent on the beach trail.<br /><br />It sounded like plastic buckets "clunking" together, so I figured the sounds was just someone out for a night dive. I laid still and waited for them to pass. I thought it odd that whoever they were had no lights. However, my single-man tent was covered completely with a canopy and I could not see out.<br /></p><p>Then suddenly, someone came to my well-hidden tent and called my name, in a clear and unmistakable deep, masculine, guttural voice. I knew instantly that this was a voice not of this world!<br /></p> <p>I could "sense" that this "entity" was enjoying scaring me and it knew that I knew it was a ghost. It had almost a hint mischief in it's voice. It knew I was freaking out, and it knew my name to top it all off! Nobody knew me on the Big Island at that time. I certainly didn't tell the job interviewer that I was camped on the beach.<br /><br />I could also sense that this being "had to go" as if it had more important things to do. I laid still, petrified with fear for about 20 minutes until I felt I was clear to go. I grabbed my blanket and ran as fast as I could along the beach to the lighted resort area about a 1/4 mile away.<br /><br />I later overheard one of the employees of the resort not too long after the experience who saw "The Night Marchers" as she was driving home through the lava fields after completing her night shift. I believe it to be the same night that I had my weird encounter.<br /><br />I looked up the date and the phase of the moon in a book of the <a href="http://www.instanthawaii.com/cgi-bin/hawaii?Weather.moon">Hawaiian Moon Calendar</a>. One of the things it said was it was the time that The Night Marchers are seen! Another book explained the "clunking" sounds as calabashes suspended from a pole in which provisions were carried when on a journey in the days of old. This experience remains to this day, the most inexplicable event of my life.<br /></p>dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-42601813373226458672008-06-13T06:26:00.005-10:002008-06-13T06:49:48.332-10:002008-06-13T06:49:48.332-10:00College ExperienceInformant: Male/19 years old/Portuguese Ancestry<br />Location: University of Hawaii at Hilo Dorms, Big Island<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.uhh.hawaii.edu/images/level_2/dorms.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.uhh.hawaii.edu/images/level_2/dorms.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>During high school, I spent my summers in an academic college prep program at the University of Hawaii at Hilo. Part of the programs goals was to simulate life in college, and so this included living in the dorms for about six weeks.<a href="javascript:void(0)" tabindex="11" onclick="return false;"><span></span></a><br /><br />My first summer in the program, I was a little apprehensive about living in the dorms. The day I moved in, I felt uncomfortable in my dorm room. However, I just chalked it up to being away from home and shyness. As soon as I came out of my shell and got to make friends, I didn't feel uncomfortable in my room anymore.<br /><br />Since my first day in the dorms, there has always been ghost stories surrounding the particular dorm we lived in. Students would often spread rumors of ghostly children playing the halls or that the dorm was in the path of a Night Marchers' trail. I was very skeptical about it.<br /><br />Then one day, I experienced something that I cannot find an explanation for.<br /><br />I was lying in my bed, alone in my dorm room, just relaxing from studying. I was just lying down, and listening to some music, nothing else. Then, I began to feel a hand behind my head. I was scared, because the door was closed and I knew that I was alone. Then the hand began to move around, underneath my head, as if it was playing with my hair. I tried my best to remain calm, I didn't want to make any sudden movements. I slowly began to move away from my bed. As soon I moved my head, my pillow which my head had been on, went flying across the room and hit the wall across from my bed with tremendous force. At the moment, I felt like I was threatened, and I just ran like the building was on fire.<br /><br />I found the program director, and of course I brought it up with her. She just laughed at me and blamed the whole experience on me being scared about living away from home for so long. However, she did let me move into another room, and since then I've never been into that room again.<br /><br />After that summer, I've spent later summers in that dorm, and have never experienced anything like that in the dorms again.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-79425376269410193852008-06-10T00:03:00.009-10:002008-06-11T12:52:00.354-10:002008-06-11T12:52:00.354-10:00The Hole in the bedroomInformant: Female/23/Korean ancestry<br />Location: Kapa’a, Kauai<br /><br />I have a friend that can see spirits. I know what you’re thinking, but just go with it. Since the strange goings-ons in my apartment had graduated to actual physical displeasure, I decided to enlist his help in figuring out what the hell was going on.<br /><br />First let me give you a little more background. Ever since <a href="http://www.weirdhawaii.com/2008/06/shadow-man.html">the shadow man</a>, my spare bedroom had turned into this creepy room that nobody wanted to go into. Every time my friends came over, they always steered clear from that room. It’s nothing we really talked about, just something we all mutually concurred on. That room was creepy.<br /><br />Case in point: a friend of mine came over. He had only been in my apartment living room before briefly, for about 5 minutes. He never saw the rest of my apartment. But he walked into my apartment and immediately turned the corner into the hallway. I thought he had to use the bathroom, but I didn’t hear the door close so I followed him. I found him standing in the middle of that spare bedroom. He turned around, rubbing his arms, and said “This is a creepy room,” to which I said “Funny you should mention that…”<br /><br />Back to the psychic friend. He asked me to draw him a map of my apartment labeling just the windows and the doors. So the crude picture I drew him (that didn’t showcase my spectacular artistic ability at all, I might add) looked something along the lines of this:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CJ66KgS7lhc/SE5UZWsq99I/AAAAAAAAAEc/aulwITjBN9s/s1600-h/apartment+map.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_CJ66KgS7lhc/SE5UZWsq99I/AAAAAAAAAEc/aulwITjBN9s/s400/apartment+map.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210194613480650706" border="0" /></a><br />He looked at the picture for a little while, and started pointing out where my furniture and everything was (keep in mind he's never seen my apartment in his life, not even in pictures). He located my couch, and he also located my computer desk (“I feel a strong electrical disturbance here. Is this where you have a computer or something?”). Then he looked at the spare bedroom and said “There’s a hole here.” A hole? What did he mean?<br /><br />“There’s a hole here where spirits can come in and out of. There is a man in your apartment who walks the line between malicious and harmless. He walks a path from your spare bedroom, into your bedroom, and into your bathroom.” This would explain why I felt like someone was looking over my shoulder sometimes. And it definitely explains why nobody liked going in that room.<br /><br />My friend suggested moving my bed further away from the door to stop him from <a href="http://www.weirdhawaii.com/2008/06/from-doorway.html">pressing me</a> (it had happened about 3 times). I seemed to be in his way or something. But luckily not too long after that I moved out of that apartment. Not because it was haunted or anything, but because someone purchased it. I often wonder if the new tenants ever experience anything out of the ordinary.Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-83698381347151060352008-06-06T12:51:00.004-10:002008-06-06T13:00:36.524-10:002008-06-06T13:00:36.524-10:00A Wrinkled Hand<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: 0.9pt;"><span style="color:;">Informant: Female/50’s/Filipino ancestry<u1:p></u1:p><br />Location: Lihue, Kauai <u1:p></u1:p></span><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:;">Back in 1982 when my mother was 32, she lived by herself in a motel in Niumalu. <u1:p></u1:p>One night at around 3 am, she awoke to someone holding down her left hand and pressing their other hand against her mouth. She couldn’t see anyone since it was so dark, but she could feel the skin of the hand. Judging by the size of the hand she guessed it was the hand of an old woman. She then started to pray and the sensation let off.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style=""><span style="color:;">Niumalu is close to the historical Menehune Fishpond. It's a very ancient place where many Hawaiians used to live. </span><o:p></o:p></p> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span style=";font-family:";font-size:12;color:black;" ><br /></span></span>Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-47900316151737710402008-06-05T22:36:00.004-10:002008-06-05T23:57:24.239-10:002008-06-05T23:57:24.239-10:00From the doorway<p class="MsoNormal">Informant: Female/23/Korean ancestry<br />Location: Kaimuki, Oahu</p> <p class="MsoNormal">My apartment was never the same after <a href="http://www.weirdhawaii.com/2008/06/shadow-man.html">the shadow man</a> experience. Every now and then, it would feel like someone was standing behind me, looking over my shoulder. Or I would hear a knock at the door, but nobody would be there when I looked out of the peephole. I could deal with those things, but there were some things that I couldn’t deal with in a logical way.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">One day my boyfriend (at the time) sister came for the day. She had the key to get into the apartment for that day and was coming back in the afternoon. I decided to take a nap. I fell asleep on my bed in the middle of the afternoon, probably around 2pm. I woke up because I thought I heard the sound of the door open, and keys jingling. I thought, “She’s back, I better get up!” But for some reason, I couldn’t move. But I was able to see the doorway, and it looked like she was peeking through the doorway at me. I could just see a head. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I thought, “Oh my goodness, how embarrassing! I have to get up!” But I couldn’t move. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t move. It felt like all my muscles were dead; like they were suffocating, if that makes any sense. The whole time I struggled to move, someone was looking at me from the doorway.<span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Finally I decided that I should just stop trying to fight it. The moment I did, I was able to move. I got up, went into the living room expecting her to be there, but she wasn’t. Nobody was there. </span></p><span style=""> </span>Katerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06162762867690383959noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818800738982154848.post-15874028115394424212008-06-05T21:50:00.004-10:002008-06-05T23:03:22.167-10:002008-06-05T23:03:22.167-10:00Night Time IntruderInformant: Female/73 years old/Portuguese Ancestry<br />Location: Hilo, Big Island<br /><br /><br />It was still the early years of my marriage and my husband and I had just started living in our house. At this time, we owned a dog and kept it in the backyard.<br /><br />One night, during the middle of the night, the dog starts barking like crazy and won't shut up. My husband and I begin to suspect the possibility of someone trying to break into the house.<br /><br />So my husband turns on the all the lights and begins searching around the house for any signs of the intruder. He can't find anything. He gives up and turns around to head back into the house.<br /><br />My husband told me that at the moment he turned around, he felt like someone punched the back of his head. My husband flips around, ready to lay a beatdown on his attacker, but is surprised to find no one there. He runs around the house and cannot find any sign of any person besides himself.dgchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02610502486485251522noreply@blogger.com