7. I didn’t believe in ghosts. I’m still very skeptical of the idea of ghosts. The idea we exist after death seems way too optimistic to be true. That being said, I had a very strange experience.
I was in college in Chicago and my friends and I found a weird apartment. The space had been a bar that predates prohibition that was loosely converted into a loft. And when I say loosely, I mean there were dividing walls that didn’t go to the ceiling to separate the rooms and there was a shower and they took the bar itself out, but other than that very little work had been done on the place.
There was a creepy as fuck basement. In the basement, there was a turn of the century beer cooling ice vault. It was a big heavy room all lined with wood with a big heavy door and suspicious hooks and hoses dangling from the ceiling.
Now, my room had a closet under the stairs to go up to the apartments on the higher floor. There was a door to the closet, which was under the taller part of the stairs. Then, there was another door inside the first door into the small space under the lower stairs. Behind THAT door, there was a trap door set into the floor that was nailed shut. All three doors had locks on the outsides of the doors.
Curious as to where the trap door went, I looked around in the creepy basement, only to find the trapdoor in my room led to a space in the basement that was completely walled off, like a room with no door.
One day, I was sewing in my room, and the closet doors kept popping open on their own. We used to joke there was a ghost because of the creepy basement. I thought the ghost was just a joke and my closet door kept popping open because of a draft or something. I kept shutting it, it kept popping open. Eventually I got pissed because every time the door popped open it would hit my chair and disrupt my sewing. I actually latched the door shut. I sit back down. And right before my eyes I see the latch pop open for no fucking reason and the doors swung open with force and smacked my chair really hard.
Pissed, I stood up and said “FUCK OFF YOU STUPID GHOST I AM TRYING TO GET WORK DONE!” And the doors swung shut on their own and then I saw the latch dropped back into place on its own, and the doors never popped open on their own again after that.
I feel a little bad. Sorry I yelled at you, spooky ghost. I thought I was just fucking around but if ghosts exist I yelled at you way too harshly over some chair bumping.