posted this to my personal tumblr already but for the amount of times i've repeated these stories over the years, it doesn't hurt to have it up on livejournal, too. this was part of a meme i was doing on tumblr.

i believe in ghosts. i was never raised with religion, i don't believe in a god. but i believe in ghosts and spirits and i guess that makes me superstitious.

part of the reason why i do is because of my own experiences. i have always been irrationally terrified of all of my father's houses because of what -- as i told my mother when i was younger -- i was certain was "monsters". as i grew older i began to call them ghosts, instead. and this fear never went away. it is now to the point where i refuse to visit my father's house, because the feeling of something watching me, being there, is just so overwhelming. whatever i feel is sinister and it makes me feel unsafe. i've asked other friends of mine about this who have been to his house with me and they agree, actually -- saying that my room is the only place in the house that felt secure, safe.

( stories under the cut:Collapse )