Toy Story

OK, I'll start off by letting you know that this experience happened to my mother. This may not be the scariest of stories, but it's a true one. I was only eight years old and fast asleep when it happened, so I only have the word of my mother.

It was Spring of '84 and a few minutes after midnight. Everyone, except my mother, in our one story house was fast asleep. "Everyone" consisted of my older sister, younger brother, and myself. My father was stationed in Maine. Well, after a late night watching television by herself, my mother finally decided to hit the sack. We had four bedrooms, all four rooms connected to the main hallway of this quaint little military issued home (you Navy brats know what I'm talking about!). My little brother's room was at the very end of the hallway, while my mother's room was at the front. She lay alone trying to doze off when she heard the familiar clinking and clanking of toys. It was loud and coming from my brother's room. She let the racket go on, thinking my brother, who was five years, had gotten up to play with his cars or blocks. After a couple of minutes she called out to him from her room, "Gregg, go back to sleep!" The sounds ceased for maybe a second or two, then started up again. Another three minutes passed, the toys were still chattering. Mom, who was fairly irritated at this point, decided to get up and put little Gregg back in bed. The hall light was on, the bedroom lights were all off. She walked toward the back bedroom, the toy sounds still shuffling. About five feet from his door, the sounds came to a dead stop. As she turned to walk into his bedroom, she saw that all of the toys were neatly stacked in their usual places, not one block or car out of place. Not only that, but my little brother was not there. It seems that he had wandered into my older sister's bed earlier that night, and he, my sister, and myself were already in a deep sleep when my mother heard the toys. She stood at the door and chills immediately ran up and down her spine. She doesn't scare easily, but at that point she proceeded to run into her bedroom, lock the door, and call my father in Maine to tell him what happened, not that she really knew herself. Here's the kicker, guys..... she couldn't reach my dad. He was on a last minute flight to Ohio. You see, his Grandmother, my Great-grandmother, had passed away just a few hours earlier that evening. Coincidence? I don't know... but it sure spooked the shit outta me.

Submitted from: Virginia, USA