Here is my ghost story, I am a skeptic yet this story did happen to me:
I am kinda drunk so whatever, I get very ill just writing this.
I came home (afternoon summer) and as I was unlocking my door, I could tell someone was in my condo. Once I 'realized' someone was there (I easily could have assumed it was my girlfriend or maintenance or something) I stepped through the doorway and I felt very cold, dizzy and became extremely scared. I basically had a panic attack and I was overcome with emotions, but most seriously was frightened. While this happened, I walked deeper into the condo and felt like I was no longer in control of myself. I was basically panicked and was walking towards what I knew was the other person in my condo. The other person was in my living room, yet I walked into my office, directly to my bookshelf. As I stared at the books, I knew someone was now dead in my living room, and this dead person was waiting for me. I was frozen at my bookshelf still not really 'there', and suddenly one book was nearly falling off the shelf, my hand reached out and grabbed it, as soon as my fingers touched it I felt warmth, calm and peace. I stared at the book - it happened to be the very first book my girlfriend ever wrote that was published. I was like WTF? Then the phone rang, of course from the living room. Now though I was calm and peaceful and I walked around the corner into the living room and answered the phone (phone should not have been there by the way), my girlfriend was screaming and crying on the phone (she called from her office). I asked her what was wrong, she said she was turned around in her chair filing some papers when someone was suddenly behind her, she got scared and spun around, no one was there. Instead, her computer had a document opened on it. It was the first book she had published, the version open on her screen was in Russian (and the same book I was still holding in my hand). Her father, who just died a month earlier, had translated it to Russian for her before he died (to send to family back home). She claims as she stared at the screen she was overcome with sadness and her father somehow 'told' her at that moment to quit her work, and start writing again. She also felt compelled to call me immediately. She was balling her eyes out when she called, I was still messed up as well.
Although we are no longer together, we share this little story together. She now writes full time.
I certainly do not believe in ghosts, but I certainly was not myself for a period of about two minutes. This experience certainly reminded me how powerful the human brain can be.
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