Ghostly Hands

It was when I was about 12 years old, and I'd come over to my grandparent's house to spend the weekend. 

Now, this house was no ordinary house. This house was built more than 50 years ago. Being a strong psychic, I'd receive strange vibes from the house, something I could never put my finger on.

It was that weekend that I'd discover exactly what it was. 

I was in the 7th grade. I was starting to get taller and curvier and lose a lot of the weight I'd kept since childhood. Worst of all, I felt a male presence everywhere I went, mainly in the garage. I'd just gone into the garage to listen to music and lie on the couch. 

After a bit, I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I fell fast asleep and was unaware of what danger I was in. It had been nearly an hour when I heard a voice in my ear whispering softly. 

I could not understand what the voice was saying because I was still half asleep. I opened my eyes a slit and the whole room was blurry, so I just closed them again. When the voice once more addressed me, I verified that it was a male. I thought at the time that it was my dad coming to pick my sister and I up to bring us to the movies or something

But when I failed to open my eyes, I was alarmed to feel two hands lightly slide up my blouse. 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up on straight end and gooseflesh ran up and down my body. The hands were smooth and cold, and glided slowly up and started fondling my breasts! I was so shocked, afraid and disgusted that my eyes flew wide open. Standing beside me was a young man estimated at the age of 17. 

He was tall and handsome, and had dark features, though he was nearly transparent. I could not believe just what I was seeing! The handsome presence just lifted up one of his hands and brought a finger to his lips in a shushing manner, and continued in his activities. 

I watched in horror as he moved his hands anywhere he pleased. I could not talk, yell, or scream. I could not even whisper, for I was too shocked and frustrated. When tears began streaming down my cheeks, the presence gave me an odd, sympathetic look of shame and leaned down slowly to kiss my forehead, then disappeared...forever. 

I never saw the handsome ghost again...but I never forgot him or what he'd done to me.

It still scares me, and I always fear that one night when I'm sleeping at my grandparent's house that it will happen again.

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