Out of all the real life ghost stories I’ve ever heard, the one that actually happened to me haunts me the most.
It was late on a Friday night after dinner with friends, when I was getting out of a cab and making my way to my front door.
I lived across the road from a park, and something made me turn around before opening the door.
Updated 2/9/2020 – I’m not sure if it was the hairs prickling on my neck or a distant voice echoing in my mind.
I saw what looked like a hooded figure, sitting on one of the park benches directly in front of me.
It was a foggy night and the street lights gave the figure an almost eerie glow.
As I stared, I realized that there were no shadows from what appeared to be a man with his head bowed.
I felt brave enough to cross the road and dare to approach him.
He didn’t move, but as I got closer – something told me not to disturb him.
Even though my skin was crawling, I was transfixed by him, although he didn’t look up or move an inch.
I found myself turning around and making my way back to my door.
When I turned around once again – he was gone.
There hadn’t been any noise, movement or footsteps!
I couldn’t shake off the image of the hooded man.
Before I went to bed that night, I couldn’t help looking out the window to see if he’d returned.
He hadn’t, so I went to sleep.
It wasn’t long before a disturbing dream filtered through.
I saw silhouettes of a young woman and two men – holding hands in a circle and dancing around.
Then the circle broke and the woman ran off with one of the men, while the other one reached out to them.
I could feel his grief – which was heavy and heart-breaking.
He was lost – but he couldn’t move.
I heard the words in his mind – which was something along the lines of: “But, I’m the one who loves you!”
Then his image became shrouded in what appeared to be dark clouds.
I woke up and felt the sadness and grief – as if they were my own true feelings.
Something told me that the dream was about the man in the park.
When I looked at the clock, I saw that it was only 3 a.m.
I then went to the window and nearly fainted.
There he was – sitting on the bench again – hooded head bowed in the faint glow of the streetlights.
One of the saddest real life ghost stories.
I felt compelled to go and speak to him – but what could I say that could comfort him?
What if the dream was a ruse – to lure me into a disturbing love triangle beyond the grave?
What if he wanted a replacement or if he wanted to seek revenge through someone still living?
All these thoughts swirled around in my mind as I watched him.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw his hooded head turn towards me!
I couldn’t even blink and I was rooted to the spot, as he slowly stood up and disappeared into thin air!
I’ve always wondered who he was and if he ever found her.
To this day, this haunting remains the saddest of all the ghost stories I’ve ever heard.