In this collection of personal stories, I recount a series of eerie and intriguing experiences from my own life. From the daunting climb up 16 flights of stairs to the unsettling discovery of a woman lying in a hallway, each story explores moments of suspense and surprise.
As I think about these experiences, I see how normal moments can suddenly become really strange or surprising. Get ready to hear some of my own wild and spooky stories that made a big impact on me. These stories are not just about what happened, but also about how unusual things can change our view of everyday life.
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1. Walking up 16 flights of stairs
I grew up in New York City in public housing. One of my most enduring memories is heading to the store whenever my parents sent me. Sure, this wasn’t ideal, but they also gave me something whenever I went. It could be a dollar, five dollars, or, in rare cases, even ten. Of course, when you’re young, even ten dollars is a lot of money because you think of everything that you can do with it. The worst memory I have of living in the projects is having to go up the flight of stairs to my apartment. This didn’t happen often, but the elevator broke. I can probably count the number of times on the fingers of one hand that April, but those times do stick out. The walk up to the 16th floor was one of the worst memories I have. It was a drudge to do so. Oftentimes, I would meet other disappointed residents who told me that they too were upset that the elevator had broken. Sometimes some of these residents would be on their way downstairs, only to give me the bad news. Fortunately, nothing ever happened to me during those times. I often think to myself how lucky I am that nothing happened, but also that I never actually ventured to go up the flight of stairs while the lights were broken. Sometimes it would be 3 or 4 flights where there were no lights, and I’m happy that I never went through that.
2. The woman outside the door
I lived in Chicago from 1998 until 2001, then returned in 2010 briefly. I had a studio apartment in the Uptown section of Chicago, a nice area that I liked very much because it had a strong Asian flavor and was close to public transportation. So I could go to work easily by just taking a train and a bus, the last of which left me right in front of my place of employment. One day I suddenly opened the door. I don’t remember if I was on my way out to the store or just opened it because I had heard some noise. But when I opened it, I noticed a woman lying in the hallway on the carpet about 30 ft away. I could not see her face, but fortunately she appeared to be breathing because otherwise, I would have called the police. I didn’t think anything nefarious had gone on. Instead, as it was the weekend, Saturday or Sunday, I thought that maybe she had gotten drunk and passed out in the hallway. The thing was, I was reluctant to call her name because I didn’t want to get involved in whatever problems there were. So I closed the door and started watching TV for about an hour. Afterwards, I went back to the door, opened it, and the woman was still there, yet she was closer to me. This time she was about fifteen feet away. She was still breathing, and I didn’t think anything of it. To this day, I think I was being set up for a robbery, but I don’t know. I still get goosebumps whenever I think of that day.
3. The Attic
In 2011, I lived briefly in an apartment in Eastern Europe. I had a number of roommates. It was some nice living arrangements because we all got to split the rent. I also always had someone to talk to. One day, I lifted up a rug after feeling something beneath it and, much to my surprise, there was a door. I thought to myself, “What could this be?” Though I refused to open it, as it was apparent that it probably led to an attic and there were some personal effects that did not belong to me. Anyway, I waited for one of my roommates to come back. When he did, I asked him about the attic and he began to tell me that some years ago, someone who tragically committed suicide there. I asked how and don’t remember the reason I was given, but it was most likely strangulation, as that’s the modus operandi for most suicides. I told him I was disappointed that he never told me about the place, but I was told that they didn’t want to scare me. Every time I think about that apartment, I get the chills.
4. Funeral Home
In another apartment I lived in in Eastern Europe, I lived on the first floor. If you don’t know, in some parts of the world, it is not uncommon to have the corpse of someone who had died available for viewing within the home. Prior to moving to the apartment, I asked my roommate whether she’d asked if there’d ever been such a service in the apartment. I was told no. Two memories that will always stick out and that still give me chills are of a neighbor in that apartment who had died about a month after I moved in. One day, as I was walking to the apartment, I noticed a casket being carried out by the family. A woman had died some days before. I asked my roommate whether I’d ever seen this person or met her, and was told no. But I still get the chills. The other memory that sticks out is from sleeping in the living room of that apartment. Even though I was told that there had never been services in the apartment, I thought to myself that if they weren’t truthful, then that certainly meant that there had been a service in the living room. And I get the chills whenever I think that I slept one night in that living room.
5. From out of the TV
I’m not a big fan of TV. In fact, I haven’t watched the tube in more than 7 years. Back in the day, though, I’d watch TV. And lots of it. Among my favorite programs were talk shows. One day, I’m in my apartment watching one of my favorite talk shows when, suddenly, I noticed someone in the audience. Two weeks later, I told my friend that I’d like to go to the store for a few moments, and when I got downstairs, much to my surprise, I saw this very same person at the bottom of the stairs. This may not be an astronomical coincidence, but still, whenever I think about that, I think of it as some surreal experience. What I’m thinking is, it’s more of a coincidence because I’m right at the bottom of the stairs, and the apartment I left was my best friend’s.
6. My 30th Birthday
On my 30th birthday, I lived in Miami Beach, Florida. I had a first-floor apartment. This was actually one of my favorite places that I’ve lived at. The beach wasn’t too far, and I also had all amenities within walking distance, and the tourist area wasn’t too far. My cousin, who had moved to Florida a month before, asked whether I’d like to spend some time at his home on my birthday. He was the only relative I had in the state. Most are in New York City. So I went to his house and we enjoyed some red wine. Then, about an hour later, he drove me back to the apartment. The next day, I woke up to a knock at the door. I felt a bit nauseated and tired, and when I opened it, there were two women who asked me whether I had left the gas on. I looked and the button was about a half inch to the left. I didn’t smell much gas, but they did. Apparently, after I had arrived at my apartment, I turned on the stove, wanting to eat something, and forgot to turn it off. What’s amazing about this story, though, is that about two weeks prior, I tried to turn on the air conditioning, but it wouldn’t turn on. I remember how frustrated I was, but it actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise because ever since I had assumed that the air conditioning wasn’t working, I had left the window open. The fact that I left the window open perhaps saved me that day.
7. The Long Wait
One day in the city in the Midwestern United States, someone I had recently met through a friend asked if I wanted to accompany him to a certain location. The place was public housing, and I agreed. After all, this other person who had introduced me to him was someone I’d known for several months. There were never any suspicions of me, or either person, even today. So I accompanied him to this location, and there was absolutely no one in the building that I saw. Not a single soul. He told me that he was going to go inside for several moments and then return. So I stood at the stairway, waiting for him. About a minute passed, and nothing. Two minutes. Still nothing. Then I told myself it was probably best to be patient, and I waited another ten minutes. After I saw that he didn’t come out of the apartment, I turned and headed back down the stairs, then began to hear the door open. He called out my name, and I waited. Nothing bad happened to me in that day. But still, I get the chills whenever I think of what could have happened to me if, say, someone younger had come out and didn’t recognize me.
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