Hello and welcome to 31 Days of Terror 2023, day number 17, and today

story comes from Brandy. In no way do I consider myself a sensitive or a psychic

or a medium, I don't particularly think that I am a haunted person or anything

like that. I just simply have some stories that I can't explain any other way

than to say, yeah, that was a ghost. In the spirit of sharing creepy stories

because we all love them so much, I'm gonna start this email with stories that

aren't my own but begin with my grandma, then my dad, and then my own. These

stories encompass ghosts, small folk as my grandma called them, UFOs, and even

potential cryptids. I know it's a lot, it's ridiculous. But I believe them all

despite my desire to debunk them. So to quote yourself, let's get into it. My

grandma was born in Belfast back in the 30s. We lost her in 2008 or 2009

and not only did I lose the most loving maternal figure in my life. We lost

having a lot of these stories on tap. I read a quote whenever an elder dies a

library burns down. I can honestly say this spoke to me when we lost her. The

stories of her own life and memories during World War II, her spooky experiences,

her knowledge, her superstition, her kindness, and of course her own narrative of

my own life. The memory keeper of my earliest years I'll never know from anyone

else, all gone. My grandma was a special person. She was spunky, hilarious, had no

problem standing up for herself or her loved ones but was infinitely kind and

thoughtful. Often stashing away cash to dull out her grandchildren or children,

or even mothers of the grandchildren if she felt they were struggling. She was

generous, she operated with integrity and kindness, but she did not suffer

...