OK, here's some news from my friend who works in hotels for 20years:
Every single hotel, there shall be at least a permanent room which
should be left vacant at all times. No matter how full the hotel is,
they are not to sell that room(s) to any guest. It was said that special
room was "reserved" for those "special visitors".
So, if you plan to stay in some hotel, always book in advance. Try
to avoid walk in. If the receptionist told you there's no more room
available, do not insist one anymore or try to bribe them to give
you a room. If you do that, most of the time the room you have will be
that "special room".
Sometimes those "special visitors" might go to other rooms also,
so here's some tips on how to protect yourself:
- Before entering your room, always knock on the door first, even
you know the room is vacant.
- After you enter the room, if you felt very cold suddenly and have
"chicken spore", leave the room quietly immediately and go to
reception to request to change room. Most of the time the receptionist
will understand what's happening.
- After you enter the room, immediately switch on all of the
lights, and open the curtain to let the sun light in.
- Before you go to bed, arrange your shoes so that one of them is
upside down. Some say this is representing yin& yang to protect
you while you're asleep.
- Always leave at least a lamp on while you're sleeping,
preferably the toilet's lamp.
- If you're staying alone and they have give you a twin bed, do not
sleep with the other bed vacant, try to put your things like
luggage on the other bed before you sleep
story About three years ago a friend and I were what you would call obsessed with the Ouija board. We would search out spooky places and try to contact different ' spirits. We were using a Parker Brothers board and having our spooky moments. One day we bought an authentic board at an antique shop in town and we were so excited.
My friend Chelsea, a guy Dave, his sister and I all hiked up a little hill one night in the middle of the winter. We hiked to a little deserted shack that lay empty in the woods in Ogunquit. The police had kept it off limits because high school kids liked to play around and have parties there. But we ignored the keep out signs and proceeded in.
As we went in we explored the place. There was three rooms: a kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room. The kitchen looked old and decrepid, with broken glasses and a rotted out door. The bedroom looked right out of a horror flick with the roof caved in like something had fallen through it, though it was probably just snow collapsing from the weight. The living room was the most normal looking area with a fireplace and a large, open hardwood floor. It looked the most comforting so that is where we sat.
All four of us sat down and placed the Ouija board so that it was touching all of us. We placed two fingers each on the planchette and closed our eyes trying to call andy spirit listening. There was no answer at first but after a while the planchette began to move.
It moved very slow at first but picked up momentum as it went. We all sort of looked at each other in amazement. Soon the planchette started spelling out words. "M-R-X" and than it would stop. "T-E-X" and it repeated itself many times. So we started calling the spirit Tex or Mr. X and one at a time started asking questions.
To be very honest I don't remember what we asked and what went on for a while. But I'll never forget when the planchette took a break. It just randomly stopped, and of course we continued to ask what was wrong and why he stopped talking. Just silence for a while and then the planchette started moving again. This time it spelled out "F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-G-E-T-A-W-A-Y" and the planchette quickly ran off the board. At this same time a piece of the celling came down right behind Dave, who was sitting back towards the bedroom.
As if reading each others minds we said "goodbye" and jumped up, running out the door. We still had to hike down the hill in the snow and get to the car. First out the door was Dave, with me and his sister behind. Chelsea took the longest because she had to gather the board and the planchette.
As we headed down the hill, I heard Chelsea yell something, but I ignored her and proceeded halling ass down the hill. When we got in the car we all sat, breathing heavily, scared out of our minds. I had forgotten about Chelsea's yell until she brought it up again.
She opened her jacket and there was a red mark on the back of her neck. She said on the way down she had been hit with a snowball or a piece of ice and was asking if we did it to scare her. But we couldn't have because we were in frount of her and she was hit from the back.
We dismissed the incident and went our separate ways that night. Our interest in the Ouija board started to dwindle after that, but we still tried every once and again to contact a spirit. But we never tried again to go to the Mr. X house, though we spoke and thought of it often.
An itinerant musician tends to keep odd hours and make strange friends. In my teens and early twenties, I used to play in backwater coffeehouses around suburban and rural Massachusetts. I lived in the historic town of Sudbury only a brisk walk from Longfellow's Wayside Inn and a Grist Mill, schoolhouse, and chapel of the same vintage. Just over the line in Marlboro was an old fashioned country store that catered to the tourist trade generated by these sites. My friend Lee Swanson was the proprieter.
Lee was also a collector and purveyer of antiques. His private collection (like his private life) tended to center on the occult. Lee was something of a scholar of local history as well. It was he, for instance, who told me that an ancient tree that I discovered in the woods had once been the object of considerable spiritual significance to the local Indians in colonial times.
The tree was alive, but just barely. Standing in the center of a large circular clearing near the crest of a small hill, it had been supported with cables and its immense cavities filled with cement, but no effort will keep a tree whole beyond a certain point, and that point had been reached many years ago. It had made me sad to see the tree in such a state. I had a feeling that much else had perished along with this ancient thing: generations of people whose lives did not include intruders from across the big wateers; their ways, practices, beliefs.
So it was the Lee and I made a nocturnal pilgrimage to the tree. The night was moonless, but we carried no torches. Lee is one of the few people I know who see as well as I do at night and has no fear the woods at night. We went on foot as was fitting.
What had been a place of sorrow by day became a site of power by night. The very air tingled even when still, and when it moved, it danced and sang as if in an ancient ritual. We both stood very still, awed by the majesty of the tree by starlight.
Our spirits soared as we headed back to the store for tea and talk. Lee told me a story of a stagecoach that had disappeared on the road we took back at the beginning of the eighteenth century along with its goods and passengers, never to be seen again. As he spoke, I saw dim lights through the trees and when I turned to look closer, I could make out the outline of windows in the distance lit only by a flickery light, probably from a fireplace, I supposed. I thought it odd that no lights were on, and commented on it to Lee.
He looked at me with astonishment. "You can really see that?" he asked. The next week he showed me what remained of the foundation of the house that had stood there but had burned to the ground in the aftermath of an Indian massacre.
I have posted a fair amount of fiction in the past, always labeling it as such. Every word of this tale is true.
Blue Boy
Well when I was 10 years old i went to a summer camp(Camp Pinnacle)if anyones interested. You would stay for either 2,4,6 weeks,on this particular year I stayed the full 6 weeks. Now every Saturday night we would have campfires. The last 2 weeks there are only about 20 campers and 5 councelors. We would share ghost stories around the bonfire after we reiterated on the events of that week. Well Blue Boy is one of the stories I remember so I guess I'll tell it to you. It just so happened the day they told this story was the anniversary of the event that took place 30 years back.
It was the beginning day of camp and parents were bringing their children to camp. The man who started this camp had gone over the councilers resumes and noticed what seemed to be a very bright shining lad named Jeremiah Wilcox. He decided that he would put this 29 year old counciler in charge of the 14-16 year old boys who would be in cabin 13 the cabin closest to the lake. Camp went fine for the first month everything was going better than planned. But one day the president of camp got a complaint of a counciler hitting a camper. As luck would have it it was Jeremiah.Adam(the boy)said he was hit when he disturbed Jeremiah to help him make up his bunk he said Jeremiah got up,outraged that the boy couldn't make up his bed after 4 weeks at camp and just hauled off and punched him. Jeremiah confessed that he had accidently hit the boy when he was awakened from a bad dream. The president dismissed the subject and asked the boy not to disturb Jeremiah when asleep. Adam stayed away from him but knew Jeremiah didn't like him because of all the trouble he caused.
The last week of camp the Indian Games were to be held. The Games were a combination of water and land sports. The last of the games was a canoo race between cabins 12&13, Jeremiahs cabin and another one. Now so far the cabin 13 was doing great. Until the race,now Adam wasn't excelled in canoeing but did okay until the determining point of the race came when the teams had to turn around and come back to camp. When cabin 13 came back they all looked like they had seen a ghost, except for Jeremiah that is, he was just as radiant as could be excluding the fact they lost the race. One of the children went to the head counciler stuttering about Jeremiah doing something bad. The boy was put in the infirmary for the night.
The next morning at revellie, they had roll call and realized adam was nowhere to be found. The president asked Jeremiah where the boy was,his response was he fell in the the water, but not to worry he wont slow down the races next year. The president called the police immediately and Jeremiah was arrested after all the kids in cabin 13 finally said that Jeremiah had thrown the boy out of the boat when the boy confessed he couldn't swim. Jeremiah pushed the boy under 11-12 times until he just didn't come back up. He was arrested and sent to a mental institute in Burke County North Carolina called Broughton Hospital. If you can find a way in go to the third floor right wing of Scroggs building and he'll be there yelling"ADAM" evry 1 minute 30 seconds.
But back to the story at hand. The camp closed for a couple years after that, but opened up again and everything went great they had new councilers and campers. Now the anniversary of Adams death is celebrated with a moment of silence every year. This was the first year that camp had re-opened and that night was the 3 year anniversary. It was a warm windy night. After camp-fire was closed all the kids went back to their cabins. Now it is said that that night in cabin 13 all the kids woke up when their counciler started these muffled cries. None of them said anything cause they didn't want to be killed too. The next morning the counciler had not reported at roll-call and the head counciler walked to the cabin and heard all the kids crying. He noticed these wet foot prints which led from and back to it. The ones back to it had the pebbles all stirred up stirred up,but the counciler thought nothing of it. When he walked in the cabin all the kids screamed and hid under their covers. The counciler was gone susposedly dragged out by some unknown culprit. Then it finally dawned on them about Adams death and his anniversary. They closed camp yet once again and boarded off cabin 13. The police could find nothing except a wet strip of cloth on a nail in the doorway which appeared to be the same as the shirt Adam was wearing on the day he died.
Now many of you probably dont believe me but if you ever get a chance to visit N.C. check both these places out i assure you they're real and in Hendersonville there is a camp Pinnacle. Take a look around go see the lake chack out cabin 13 its supposed to be blocked off but some kids broke in. walk in and if you dont feel a hint of death or you aren't in the least scared I'd like to meet you.
of cos there r ghosts,
if not how i get 4D numbers.
There is 1 thai cum taoist master who sell amulets n talismans. He always perform at ard 2pm to 4pm. At OG BUgis outside.. every monday to sunday, escept tuesday.
After his performances, he get his 2 Lap Yongs( Thai baby ghosts) to give us 4D numbers. Numbers written on the talisman was not written by the master, but by the baby ghosts.
the numbers not always will kena, but sometime will.
fOR those who r open minded enough to see whether there r ghosts... can go n check out the master doing performance..
at the same time can use the numbers given by the baby ghosts to buy 4D.
