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Once in a while I come across a ghost story that just gives me the chills. Especially if it comes from a person who is sceptical about all things paranormal. For me, it lends credibility. It’s not a story set in some historical manor house or castle with a bloody and lively history. It’s just an ordinary council house in Essex. Likely built after World War 2 to house Londoners, displaced after The Blitz. Why would someone write a story, based in such an ordinary property, when they don’t even believe in ghosts and the like? Unless there is some substance to it?

This account of a possible paranormal experience was passed onto me, anonymously. Whilst it didn’t happen in Wiltshire, I really wanted to post it here and share it with you all. There is something about it that stuck in my head. I have posted it, exactly as it was written.


“This is gonna sound absolutely bat shit crazy and I’ve literally only told my sister, parents and close friends about this, and just recently I’ve considered writing this all down as my wife feels it’s interesting. 

Back in 2000 me and my girlfriend, both 21, and our daughter who was 2 months old at the time moved into a council house in Essex, UK.

One night we were both asleep in bed, both of us stark naked as it was during a particular hot summer.

My girlfriend woke me up with a slap and said, “You’re funny!” I turned over because I was pissed she’d woke me up and asked her wtf was going on.

In her hand she had a large adjustable spanner. She went on to explain how the coldness of the spanner woke her up the instant it was placed on her bare chest.

She thought it was me playing a prank and wouldn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t. I was so scared that someone else had broke into our house and put it there that I got up and checked all the windows and doors. I then didn’t sleep for three nights straight. 

The spanner was mine. It was kept in a tool box in a walk-in cupboard downstairs but at the time there was no access to the cupboard as we were having a new kitchen fitted and it was blocked.

There were many strange creepy things that happened in that house. The bath filling up with water overnight, to the point the second I put the tip of my fingers in the water, the water poured over the edge. Also bangs, footsteps upstairs etc but the spanner was the one thing I struggled to explain.

Nobody ever liked to stay at our house and we only found this out after we moved. Family and friends would say they never liked it there and would avoid spending too long at the house. 

Roll on to 2006, I’m no longer with my daughter’s mum and I’m out with work friends for a drink. The girl behind the bar is giving me glances every now and then and I’m feeling good as I think I may have pulled. 

She asks me what school I went to and where I work as she recognises me from somewhere. I tell her and she says you must just have a recognisable face as I’ve seen you before somewhere. I tell her where I was from before my split from my ex and move to another area. She says she lives there now. 

So we both agree its very possible that we’ve crossed paths before. She tells me the road she lives on, which I say “oh well that explains it. I lived on the same road.” She then tells me the house number. “302”…..the same very house i lived at. 

What she said next will stay with me forever. “I’ve been living there five months and I hate it. Me and my boyfriend think it’s haunted, I’ve even woke during the night with an empty pint glass on my chest”. 

I told her about the spanner and she burst out crying. We exchanged numbers so we could chat at a later date. A week later I spoke to her and her boyfriend and they said they had moved back to his parents house. I never heard from them again.

I’m 100% a sceptic and don’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural which must sound crazy after you read this story but I’m convinced it must be something else. What it is I really don’t know.

Even to this day my ex thinks it was me who put the spanner there. I loved playing pranks on her, that’s true, but how is that a prank. It’s not funny and if was, it backfired because I literally shit myself thinking we had an intruder that night.”


Have you got an interesting story you would be willing to share? Get in touch with me here or on Twitter.

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