To ask what is the strangest/creepiest thing that has ever happened to you?

[JudgeyHotPants]

I have two strange/creepy unexplained events that stick in my head.

The first happened when I was teenager, my DF ran his business from our family home and we had a phone/fax machine in the living room. Whenever we picked up the phone we could always hear a radio station playing very distantly on the other end. I'll never forget the time I picked up the phone to ring a friend and could hear Penny Lane playing!

The other is slightly more sinister. My DM and I were at home alone one evening, it was summer and still warm and I had the bedroom window open. I can remember hearing a loud crash in the garden, thought maybe the cat had knocked something over and thought little of it. Then my mum suddenly popped her head around the door told me that she was going to bed and that she'd "locked all of the doors". Thought it was an odd thing to say, but thought little of it. That night I was kept awake by the next door neighbours security light going on and off, and when I got up the next morning my DM pointed out that the garden ornaments and solar lights from next to the fence had been smashed.

That's when she told me that she to and heard the crashing sound the night before, and got up to investigate and when she looked through the kitchen window she was convinced she could see a person peering through the window, as as if they were standing next to it with their back against the wall and peeing in from the side, but wasn't sure if she was seeing things or not! She was scared enough to lock all of the doors, but not to ring he police it seems! Still freaks me out now! I'm sure someone was in our garden for whatever reason!

tomanddizzymum, that was spooky! I would probably wet myself with fear if a strange woman floated into my bedroom, told me to get out and then floated out the window. That must have been truly terrifying.

I loved the bit about the Indian relish. It is comforting in a way, isn't it? It sounds as though the old gentleman wanted some company for his Sunday supper.

And, oh, the knocking. I hear you on that. (No pun intended.) When I get a chance to tell the story of the London events, knocking figures prominently. In fact, that's how the whole story started...

Stop teasing us Croc!

Sorry, Cariad007. It's been a busy couple of days and the story is a bit long but I will post, I promise!

A spooky one that a friend told me, involving her maternal grandparents.

My friend, Alys, comes from a wealthy, aristocratic family. Her grandparents lived in rather baronial splendour in a large house with grounds. One of the gardeners had a son (early adolescent), Edward, who was a talented pianist. The plan was that when he was older, he would go to conservatory to study music.

Alys's mother allowed the young lad to play the piano in her house. All was well until one summer when Edward's hands were mangled in an agricultural accident. Despondent that he would never again be able to play his beloved piano, Edward hanged himself in one of the outbuildings.

For years afterwards, Alys's grandmother and house guests swore they saw - and heard - Edward playing the piano in his usual place.

Now a funny / odd story involving the other side of Alys's family.

Aly's paternal grandmother, Lady Alcott was quite eccentric. One weekend she was staying with a family friend, Lord Oakshield on his huge estate (we're talking hundreds of acres) in Yorkshire. On Sunday afternoon, she informed her host that her beloved doggie had gone missing.

Lord Oakshield sent all the servants out - beaters, stable boys, under-parlour maids, passing hoboes etc - to find doggie. After an hour or so, the chauffer sidled up to Lord Oakshield and whispered in his shell-like that there was no such creature as the beloved pet was imaginary.

Oakshield had Lady Alcott summoned to the front of the house. The chauffeur drove up in his employer's Bentley, opened the passenger door with a grand sweeping gesture and announced that the miscreant had found safe and sound.

Lady Alcott was thrilled to see her companion animal and they all lived happily ever after.

(Except the various members of staff, who probably thereafter spent their free time sticking pins into effigies of Lady Alcott.)

*names changed to protect the guilty

Oops. Sorry for the accidental double post.

Way to ruin the thread croc

Here's something spooky that happened to me today.

Years ago, I lived in West London. (I referenced this in the Carl story.) There was a restaurant in the neighbourhood that I occasionally went to. The only thing remarkable about the restaurant was one of the staff - a nice looking lad in his early 20s who had an extremely twisted back (possibly due to scoliosis?).

Anyway, he popped into my mind a few days in an "I wonder how he is getting on" way.

Today, I was waiting for a bus in south London, while who should cross the street in front of me but said restaurant employee?

Sorry that was supposed to be at your double post

What did I do, mutton? I thought I was posting in the spirit (no pun intended) of the thread.

Apologies for any offence caused.

Crossed post, I was trying to joke and posted the wrong face

Oh, apologies! I have Asperger's Syndrome and am new to Mumsnet, so I thought I did something wrong!

Here is Part I of III of the London Ghost Story:

I live on the top floor of a large detached Victorian villa. The floor consists of kitchen, sitting room, bedroom and bathroom. There is another room, in between the kitchen and bedroom, that is used for storage. Along the shared wall in the storage room are bookshelves, filled to the brim with books.

My landlord lives on the ground and first floor. He goes out several evenings a week to his club.

So. I had lived there for about six years when all hell broke loose the Curious Incident of the Book in the Night started.

It was a Saturday evening. My landlord had gone out at 8pm to his club so I was alone in the house. I was reading "The Demonologist" about the work of Ed and Lorraine Warren (there was a film about them a couple of years ago with Vera Farmiga). Anyway, at precisely midnight I turned off my bedside light (I was reading in bed) to go to sleep.

Immediately, a pounding noise started on the shared wall. I mean - really angry pounding - as though someone had a sledgehammer and was trying to break through the wall. The sound was about waist height - maybe a bit higher - and travelled the length of the shared wall.

I pulled the bedclothes over my head (yeah, brave I am not) and did the only thing I could think to do, which was to recite The Lord's Prayer. As a dyed-in-the-wool agnostic, it is the only prayer and the only thing I could think to do. As soon as I started to recite the prayer, the pounding stopped.

The next Saturday night was a carbon copy repeat of the previous night. At midnight (not by design but by sheer coincidence) I closed "The Demonologist", turned off the light and prepared to go to sleep.

The pounding started again. This time, it travelled along the wall, turned a corner and began pounding at a wall that was at right angles to the original wall. Again, I recited The Lord's Prayer and it stopped.

When I told people this, some people said "oh, it's an old house. They all make noises." Well, gee. I'd lived in that house for six years and knew all its idiosyncrasies - which floorboards creak, what the plumbing sounds like - and it was not like that at all.

Other people said "it was a water hammer. You know what a water hammer sounds like, right?". Yep, I do. And it wasn't a water hammer. What's more, there are no pipes in that wall - I asked my landlord. Plus, it's a Victorian house and the walls are thick: I've tried pounding on the wall and the most I can do is to make a dull thump.

Part II. This is a bit tricky to re-tell, so I will do my best.

A couple of weeks after the pounding started, things in my flat started to move.

One morning I woke up to find matches (brand: Petit Diable*) scattered across the sitting room floor. No, I don't smoke. I collect silver and among the items I collect are silver Vesta match cases. One of the cases holds - you guessed it - a box of Petit Diable matches. The silver is in a locked cupboard in the sitting room.

*Literally, "little devil".

One day I was standing in front of the sink when a large economy-sized bottle of Fairy Liquid (it was leaned against a wall shared with the storage room) when it started to rock back-and-forth. I mean, properly rocking. I watched it for several moments and at no point did it slow down: the rocking was constant. I finally reached out and grabbed it because watching it unnerved me.

I would hear thuds and find things in other rooms had fallen to the floor.

One morning, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, putting on makeup. I was about three feet from the bedside table and had a small mirror in one hand and a mascara brush in the other. Suddenly, a tub of Nivea that was sitting on the table lifted up, moved several inches and fell to the floor. The odd thing was that I actually saw it lift up, move and fall.

And, no, I couldn't have knocked it as I was too far away. It didn't slide, because if it had done so, it wouldn't also knocked several small items to the floor at the same time.

Other things happened, too, but I don't recall them right now. I would have to ask my cousin as I emailed her every time something happened.

This went on for a period of several weeks and what was notable was that the incidents increased in both frequency and severity (if that's the right word) during this period.

You know what else is spooky? I wrote Part III but it has disappeared into the ether.

Try again Croc! ?

Have come down with a rotten cold and will write Part III when my head is not filled with cotton and concrete.

Is anyone else quite disappointed that HouseOfSandAndFog and moominsummer never came back to tell us their super creepy stories?

You can't tease us with juicy tales and then vanish without a trace!!

I agree, I think they've Tristam-and-Mollied us!

HouseOfSandAndFog is a contact. They are currently in......Transylvannia of all places. I will nudge them when they get back. If they get back.......

I had an odd moment this morning.

We live in a 15th century house, but despite the age I've never felt or heard anything remotely woo.

However this morning I walked along the corridor upstairs, and through his open bedroom door I saw ESS in his room, facing the window. I could tell you exactly what he was wearing, I know I saw him stood there.

I walked straight down the stairs and into the living room, and there was ESS. I must have looked a bit because he asked what was wrong.

He went straight upstairs just to check no-one was actually there, but of course there wasn't.

I'm sure my mind made it up, perhaps I was expecting to see him or something, but it's certainly given me the shivers.

Alas the downside of moving this thread from AIBU into Classics is that it gets less traffic now!

Bump. More spooky goings on please