Ghost Stories

My name is Tracey and I was born a sensitive---something I did not realize until I was almost 20 years old. It seems that every third generation in my family has this gift (or curse,-depending on how you look at it). I'm 43 now, but when I was 16, my family lived in this beautiful 200-year-old Victorian home in Glyndon, Maryland. There was always activity - objects moving, voices, shadows, full-figured spirits dressed in period clothing. That was in the main house; however, in the carriage house (which we converted to a pool room), there was a completely different feel. One of my weekly chores was to clean the small building. It was rumored that during the early years, a caretaker had an affair with on of the daughters of the house. The air in there was always as thick as pudding.

Being 16, I didn't understand what this meant. I only knew that I would get the creeps as soon as I entered the carriage house. On one sunny afternoon, I went to the small building, opened the door and the entire building was covered floor to ceiling in thick cobwebs. In the center of this was a black mass with arms reaching out in six different directions. I stood frozen for what seemed like forever, then heard a deep moan whisper, "Come in, we've been waiting."

I slammed the door shut, collected myself for a moment then thought, "I must have imagined the entire thing," I opened the door, and nothing but the furniture was there. No cob webs, no black mass, no heavy feeling. Nothing. I still wonder, to this day, what would have happened to me had I entered the building while the mass was there.