Mystical stories from witnesses. Mystical stories from real life Mystical love stories to read

My mother-in-law and I lived together. She was a doctor, a very good one. Somehow I was sick for a long time. Weakness, cough, no fever. My mother-in-law calls and we talk about our children. I cough during a conversation. She suddenly says - you have basal pneumonia. I was very surprised. I answer that there is no temperature. In short, she drops everything and comes to us half an hour later. He listens to me through his phonendoscope, taps me on the back and says: “Don’t argue with me.” Get dressed, let's go for the x-ray.

We took pictures. It's true, I have pneumonia. Just like she said. She made me go to the hospital and personally treated me. And after a short time she herself suddenly dies of a heart attack.

We grieved for her very much. And for some reason I kept remembering how, shortly before her death, she asked me:

How do you think? Is there something after death?

One day after a bath I wanted to lie down. She lay down, and suddenly the balcony door opened slightly. I was also surprised, it just doesn’t open without effort. There was definitely no draft. I followed this, afraid of getting sick again. There was a strong chill. I should get up and close the door, but I don’t want to. I can’t sleep, but I don’t want to get up, I’m very tired at the dacha. I just got cured, if I don’t close the door, I’ll get sick again.

And suddenly I thought:

I wonder if that light actually exists or not?

And mentally she turned to her deceased mother-in-law:

Mom, if you can hear me, close the door to the balcony, otherwise it will blow through me. You are gone, there will be no one to treat you.

And the door immediately closed! I think it seemed like something? Repeated:

Mom, if you can hear me, open the door.

Door opened!

Can you imagine?! We gathered the next day and went to church. Candles were lit for the repose.

We had a case. On their father’s anniversary they decided not to invite anyone, but to modestly remember him. Mother did not want the wake to turn into an ordinary drinking party.

We are sitting at the table in the kitchen. The mother put the photograph of the father on the table, and in order to raise it higher, she placed a notebook under it, leaning it against the wall. They poured a glass of vodka and a piece of black bread. Everything is as it should be. We talk, we remember.

It’s already evening, we decided to clean everything up. I say that the stack should be taken to the bedside table in my father’s room, let it stand there until it evaporates. My mother is very rational, she doesn’t really believe in all these customs. She says so frivolously: “Why clean up, I’ll drink it myself now.”

As soon as she said this, the notebook suddenly, for no reason at all, slid along the edge of the table and knocked over her father’s stack. The photograph fell, and every last drop of vodka spilled out. (I must say that the stack is round like a barrel and it is almost impossible to knock it over).

Have you ever had the hair on your head move? That was the first time I experienced this. Moreover, my whole body was covered in goosebumps from horror. I couldn’t say anything for about five minutes. The husband and mother also sat in shock. It’s as if my father said from the other world: “Here you go!” You’ll drink my vodka, of course!”

Yesterday I encountered something strange.

It’s already past midnight, we’re sitting with my dear one, watching “Midshipmen,” and we hear that someone is swinging in the yard.

The third floor, the windows overlook the landing and, due to the heat, are wide open. Our swing creaks disgustingly, this sound is familiar to tears - my little one adores them, but I can’t get to the mechanism to lubricate it.

After a couple of minutes, I began to wonder: who is it that fell into our childhood - I think there are no children on the street at this time.

I go to the window - the swing is empty, but actively swinging. I call my friend, we go out onto the balcony, the entire playground is clearly visible (the sky is clear, the moon is full), the swing is empty, but continues to swing, increasing its amplitude. I take a powerful flashlight, direct the beam at the swing - a few more “back and forth”, a jerk as if someone had jumped off, and the swing begins to stop.

I scared away some local spirit.

I remembered. Once upon a time we lived in the taiga. And then passing hunters came to visit. The guys are making small talk, I'm setting the table. There are three of us, two of them, and I set the table for six. When I noticed, I began to wonder out loud why I counted another person.

And after this, the hunters said that they stopped in one place on the boat - they were interested in a pile of brushwood. It turned out that the bear had picked up the man and covered him with dead wood; a leg in a gnawed boot was sticking out from under the brushwood. That's why they went to the city, taking a boot - to report where they were supposed to, order an aircraft to remove the corpse and assemble a brigade to shoot the man-eating bear.

The restless soul probably got stuck together with the boot.

We once rented an apartment with my husband and three-year-old daughter from a man. Everything was fine for the first six months. We lived in peace. And one day, one cold winter evening, I put my daughter in the bathtub, gave her children’s toys, and I did something around the house, periodically keeping an eye on her. And then she screams. I go to the bathroom, she sits, cries, and blood runs down her back. I looked at the wound, as if someone had scratched it. I ask what happened, and she points her finger at the doorway and says: “This aunt offended me.” Naturally, there was no aunt, we were alone. It became creepy, but somehow I quickly forgot about it.

Two days later, I’m standing in the bathroom, my daughter comes in and asks, pointing her finger into the bath: “Mom, who is this aunt?” I ask: “Which aunt?” “This one,” he answers and looks into the bath. “Here she sits, can’t you see?” I was in a cold sweat, my hair was standing on end, I was ready to fly out of the apartment and run! And the daughter stands and looks into the bathtub and seems to be meaningfully looking at someone! I rushed to read prayers in every corner with a candle throughout the apartment! I calmed down, went to bed, and early in the morning the child came to the corner of the room and offered some candy to some aunt!

On this day, the owner of the apartment came to collect payment, I asked him who lived here before? And he told me that his wife and mother died in this apartment with a difference of 2 years, and for both the deathbed was the bed on which my daughter sleeps! Need I say that we soon moved out of there?

A friend of mine lives in a pre-revolutionary house. My great-grandfather, a merchant, built it. One day I returned from the store and saw a man in a sheepskin coat in the room. He is small, bearded, and spins around himself as if he is dancing.

A friend asked him: For better or worse?

To which he sang: And you will lose the child, you will lose the child!!!

And immediately disappeared.

For a long time, an acquaintance was worried about her children, picked them up from school, and did not let them go far from her. A year later, the eldest son went to live in another city, with his father. The mother visits very rarely, so we can say that she lost the child.

I didn’t write about this for a long time, I thought it was my personal thing. The other day I thought - I read you, you also share.

Mom will be 2 years old on June 26th. I remember how a week before we went to the beach (no one was sick and had no intention of dying). I saw golden threads from my mother’s head straight into the sky. My eyes are square, I backed away, sat down on the blanket. Eye-catching. I see my mother looking at me. All I could say was: Wow! Mom asked what, I told her not to move, I’ll look again. Mom said: “Maybe I’ll die soon?” Mommy, how right you were

My mother fainted for the first time in her chair, I called an ambulance, and screamed in a non-human voice. And my mother, with a blissful expression on her face, repeated: “Mom, mom, mom...”, as if she really saw. Then I started yelling: “Girl, get away from here, leave her to me, go away!” The ambulance did not recognize the stroke; my mother came to her senses in front of them. In the evening everything happened again and forever.

It was many years ago. My 91-year-old grandmother died. After the cremation, we brought the urn with the ashes home and put it in the storage room for further burial in another city (this was her request). It was not possible to take it away right away, and she stood there for several days.

And during this time, a lot of inexplicable things happened in the house... At night, my mother heard some moans, sobs, sighs that had never happened before, I always felt someone’s gaze (reproaching) during the day. Everything was falling out of our hands, and the atmosphere in the house became nervous and tense. It got to the point that we were afraid to walk past the storage room and didn’t even go to the toilet at night... We all understood that the restless soul was toiling, and when my father finally took the urn away and buried it, everything changed for us too. Granny! Forgive us, we probably did something wrong!

Mom told me three days ago. Our children go to bed late, including schoolchildren. By midnight it is only relatively quiet. And the village itself is quiet. Only crickets now, and a rare dog barking. The night birds have already stopped singing and are preparing for autumn. Further from my mother's words.

I woke up to someone knocking on the second door in the corridor (the first one is wooden and has a bolt, the second one is modern metal). The knocking was not strong, and it was as if they were knocking with an open palm. I thought that one of the older children jumped out into the street without asking, and the grandfather locked the door after smoking. But it was almost 2 am, there was silence in the house - everyone was asleep. She asked “who’s there?” The knocking stopped for a while. Then a child’s voice said: “It’s me... let me in.” The yard dog and two lap dogs were silent. Once again she asked “who’s there?” The knocking stopped completely.

My mother is very rational and does not suffer from visions. She told me it was very alarming. You need to know our family, especially my mother - she doesn’t believe in anyone, she’s not afraid of anyone, so the usual reaction for her would be to get out of bed with the question “what kind of nonsense is this?”, but here it is. He says that it was a very natural and obvious event. And she didn't sleep.

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In this section we have collected true mystical stories sent by our readers and corrected by moderators before publication. This is the most popular section on the site, because... reading stories about mysticism based on real events is liked even by those people who doubt the existence of otherworldly forces and consider stories about everything strange and incomprehensible to be simply coincidences.

If you also have something to tell about this topic, you can absolutely free.

I found my great-grandmother alive and well. I remember well how, when I was still just a child, I loved to sit on a warm stove on winter evenings, listening to the crackle of the fire, and drink the most delicious herbal tea in the world with homemade hot bread, and listen to the incredible and sometimes little stories that my great-grandmother told me. Some of them have already disappeared from my memory, and some I still remember, here are a few of them.

Today is one of my favorite holidays - Christmas. Afterwards, they begin, which will last until Epiphany. I would like to write about one fortune telling that I have been observing for many years in a row.

When I was still a teenager, a schoolgirl in Soviet times, we sometimes got together with the girls from the class to tell fortunes about the grooms. Maybe one of us will meet true love, maybe even the name of your betrothed will appear, whom you will later marry, or what other events will happen in the coming year.

One girl from the class said that she knows a fortune telling that always comes true within a year. She said that she learned about him from her mother. We asked what needs to be done so that everything works out for us, like adults. She said that it was nothing complicated, that we had everything for this fortune-telling, that many people knew about it and started telling fortunes after Christmas. The girl said that you need to take a plate, matches (there were no lighters at that time) and paper. You need to crumple the paper with your hands so that there is a larger lump, put it on a plate, and then set it on fire and wait until the paper burns out completely. Then you need to go to the wall and find a place where the shadow of the paper will be best visible, where you can examine the resulting figures. The plate needs to be constantly rotated so that you can see better, look at what everyone has done, what values ​​have fallen, and what needs to be expected in the coming year.

The story begins in the post-war period. Since the 50s. My grandmother Lida was completely ugly: crooked teeth, a slanting eyebrow from a scar and a prickly, unpleasant, stubborn character. But she married my grandfather - a handsome guy, 30 years old, a military man. We got married. I still don’t know what he found in her shifty character and very ordinary appearance, but they never quarreled with each other. Grandfather obeyed, as if he was giving in.

But violent quarrels with relatives happened constantly, with daughters, son - there were constant conflicts with them. At one time, my mother’s brother was always drinking from the bottle. And no one was lucky on the personal front. My aunt only met a man when she was 35; before that, as far as I know, she had no one. Got married. After which this man kicked her pregnant out of the house and completely turned his back on her.

Who remembers, Tolkien’s elves are not small creatures with wings, they are similar to people and, in addition to their brighter appearance, they differ from them in that they do not get sick, do not age, live almost forever (if they do not die in battle) and have magical powers. abilities.

So, these Tolkien fans believe that the elves did not disappear, but simply assimilated with people. And now there are a lot of people among us in whose veins elven blood flows. Tolkien describes two cases of marriage between an elf and a man. And children born in such a marriage make their own choice - to become a human or to become an elf. According to Tolkien, people, of course, are incomparably weaker than elves. But people are free to choose their own destiny, elves are not. There is the other side of the coin - a person can choose the path of serving evil, but an elf is initially not subject to most vices, is organically connected with the earth, nature and is not capable of thoughtlessly destroying it, which is sometimes characteristic of people.

I am 23 years old, have a secondary education, and I worked in a call center on a helpline. I was born and live in a seedy province, where the number of drug addicts and alcoholics is proportionally increasing due to closed factories, layoffs and the general closure of jobs in the region. The oppressive atmosphere of the city is reflected in the gray and dirty Khrushchev buildings mixed with rotting wooden houses, which give the impression that if the wind blows, weak and rotten logs will fall on the people living in those houses.

The large number of abandoned buildings and the constantly decreasing population of the city suggests that people here have two options - either take the risk of leaving for the big city, or stay here and wait until the atmosphere of hopelessness deprives you of your sanity. At least somehow the situation was saved by the presence of volunteer organizations like ours. A lot of people needed moral support, and our small company of volunteers tried to help these people. I worked in the organization for about a year and a half. I earned pennies there, but fortunately I had skills in graphic design and my main income was freelancing. I couldn’t give up the helpline, since work experience in the work book is a pretty important thing, and since childhood, my now deceased parents taught me to always help those in need. During the entire year and a half that I spent in the call center, there were many frightening and sometimes mystical situations.

No matter how many people exist on earth, each of them goes through their one and only life path.

In 1991, on May 28, something happened to me that is difficult even for me to believe. And this is a true story, not fiction, and it is one of many in my current life. That night, I flew to the planet Tron. This planet is located near the Central Galactic Sun. Yes, yes, that's exactly how it is. There is our Earthly Sun, and there is a Central Sun.

So, on May 28, 1991, I went to bed as always, but before I could close my eyes, I saw a beam of light descending on me from above and a noise, as if something was smacking inside me. A moment later I was already standing near my bed, or rather, I wasn’t standing, but hovering a few centimeters above the floor. My physical body, as always, remained lying down, and I stood and hovered in another body, and if the physical body lay there and phosphoresced with a greenish light, then it glowed like a bright light bulb. I had a body, arms and legs, my mind worked just as clearly as in that lying body, but there was a difference - my legs fell through the floor into the next apartment to the neighbors who lived below me on the first floor.

An acquaintance told me such a mystical story, even though he is a skeptic. I completely preserve the author’s style, that is, I copy his entire text.

One day my work took me to another city. I decided to change the city. I rented a one-room apartment there in a Khrushchev building. The decor is spartan. Room, kitchen, combined bathroom, floors, boards under linoleum, sofa and wardrobe. In principle, I was satisfied. In the evening I came home from work, cooked dinner and went to bed. There is washing, ironing, all sorts of cleaning, this is on weekends.

I lived like this for about a month, everything was fine, it was quiet, the neighbors weren’t restless, all the old women and cats. And then something started. At night some kind of mysticism happens. I’m lying there, still awake, tossing and turning, and then in the corridor there’s a creaking sound from the floorboards, as if someone was carefully walking. There in the apartment, as you enter, immediately there is a corridor to the left, and at the end there is a room and a kitchen. He himself is deaf and at night it is dark there, you can’t see anything at all. That's where it creaks in the dark. I think, who opened the door? Yah. He got up, went out, and looked. Everything is fine. Lay down. Again there is a creak as someone cautiously approaches closer. And then he leaves again. Then it stopped, I fell asleep, and in the morning everything somehow seemed ridiculous. And the next night it started again. Creak-creak, creak-creak. And the water in the bathtub started flowing from the tap. I think, wow, someone decided to take a bath with me. I went to the bathroom. Nothing flows there. But I obviously heard it. I'm going to bed. It's clearly leaking again for me. I get up and it doesn’t leak. He cursed and crawled under the pillow. Fell asleep.

I had an older brother, now deceased. His parents did not agree to buy it for him for a long time, because as soon as he spoke about it for the first time, his grandmother burst into tears and said that she had seen a cross in a dream. His parents gave his brother a motorcycle when he was 17 years old.

My brother’s joy did not last long, he walked sadly, became taciturn, and one day he admitted to me that he saw crosses everywhere, although the cemetery was far from us. I tried to calm him down, saying that it was his grandmother’s words that stuck in his head, but he looked at me so strangely and turned away. I saw fear in his eyes.

Story 1:

When I was young, when I was about 19, I went to study in England, in the glorious city of Bath.

And so one late evening, after a casual sit-down in a local pub, my friends (from Russia), the same degenerates like me, and I, of course, having previously thrown a couple of pints on our chests... went home.

We were (at least we considered ourselves) decent people, that’s why we weren’t drunk, but at best, cheerful. And so we rush home to our host families, we rush for a very long time, since we still have to walk from the center of even small Bath to the residential areas by foot, and we see a cemetery.

The cemetery is healthy, old, beautiful... and locked. On the hefty gate there was a lock and an inscription, something like “I didn’t call you, go away until nine o’clock in the morning.” The fellows were bored, and the cemetery was too beautiful to just pass by, and the church was just like that, but here it was just a green fence. In general, we found a tree, climbed over it, and began to cultivate it. The Russian fellows were so impressed by the spaciousness and neatness of the place today. Without any vandalism, of course.

We walk, look at the gravestones buried in the grass, marvel at the dates of deaths that go back centuries, and then it seems that the cemetery is patrolled by a watchman, also with a dog. The fellows quickly merged with the area, hiding behind the bushes, and thinking about their fate. And these fellows are sitting on the graves, looking through the bushes at the watchman and the dog, who do not yet see them.

And here I see that on the next grave, a meter from me, between me and my friend, sits a figure of a brown-earth color, like a shadow rising from the ground, in exactly the same pose as me (if in Russian - on courts), and I see it for exactly a second, while others do not notice at all. And at that moment I was overcome by a very unpleasant and difficult to describe feeling, but which clearly made me understand that someone here really didn’t like me and that he/it was very dissatisfied not so much with my actions, but with my general presence on this heel of the earth.

I briefly, without unnecessary details, expressed my feelings and considerations to my comrades, who by that time intended to continue examining the cemetery, after which they surprisingly easily agreed with my proposal to leave. Here.

Story 2. Short. What happened not so much to me as to my mother.

It was a long time ago. I was so old then that they carried me in a stroller, and times were still such that they were not afraid to leave children on the street.

It was winter, my mother needed to go to the store and she wanted to take me with her so as not to leave me at home. For one thing, breathe some air. But on the other hand, for some reason she didn’t want to do this. And my mother, to this day, doesn’t like to do things she really doesn’t want to do. She went to the store, which means she was alone, and did not leave me on the street in front of the store, where she always left me, and where everyone else then left their children in the same way, so as not to drag them to this very store.

Upon returning, my mother sees a picture, the description of which only horrifies me as I get older. In the place where the stroller with little me should have stood, there is another one, completely pierced by a huge icicle, along which blood is pouring onto the ground. She remembers the feeling of such a bad feeling that my mother visited that day very well.

History 2.5. Also short and again about my mother, but I took more part in it.

I was then several years older, and no longer a baby, but a cunt who didn’t want to, but sometimes still found trouble on his own head. We also had a stunning Doberman, beloved by my mother, with whom she loved to walk for a long time, at least 40 minutes.

And so it was the late summer month of August, I was at home alone, my mother had just gone for a walk with the dog, and I wanted to eat watermelon. And somehow I couldn’t figure out how to cut it, brand new and not yet opened, in my head, and I came up with the simplest option - press it to my chest with my left hand and cut it with a knife with my right. No sooner said than done, and I opened a vein on my left arm almost right down to the tendon, very effectively sprinkling myself and everything around while running around the apartment in search of a bandage. After all, you shouldn’t get your clothes, tablecloth or sheets dirty, right?

According to the description of my mother, who had clearly skipped her letter to Hogwarts, she suddenly suddenly wanted to go home, although she had not walked our cute dog weighing half a centner for ten minutes. Returning home, she sees that everything was not in vain - the door to the apartment is open, it is very quiet and there is literally blood everywhere. It’s hard to imagine what was going on in her head then, but her mother’s mother was a nurse, and now only the red pink stripe on her arm, which every year creeps closer to her elbow, reminds me of those days.

Story 3. Even shorter, but exclusively about me.

I was already older, no longer a cunt, but still not a kid, and that day I went to school, as expected. Why did I need to cross a quiet road (on a lane in both directions), but which did not have any pedestrian crossing. Despite the headphones, which I did not part with, from which either Rammstein or Bi-2 sounded, I crossed it calmly, fortunately the lane “to the city” stood dead, being clogged with cars. And now I’m walking between two bumpers, they’re already raising their leg to take a quick step into the “oncoming” lane (I only looked in the right direction, in the direction of travel), when something literally jerks me back. Such a cold feeling, like neither a gust of wind nor a shake, as if someone grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled. Neither back nor forward, but as if to bring me to my senses, from which I simply froze in place. The main point is that in the next second, when I should have already been on the road, a car rushed along it at full speed against the traffic. Despite the fact that after catching my breath a little, I went to school, I was so shocked by the fact that I was alive, and that “something” kept me from this fatal accident, I gave myself lunch not to swear and I followed him for many more months.

About the existence of other worlds and the mysticism that is associated with it, a small percentage of the population denies this fact, while others believe in the presence of other forces. Each of us has experienced phenomena, for example, when we put something down and it suddenly disappeared. Or sitting at home in silence, you hear sounds inexplicable to yourself. There are many such examples and eyewitness accounts. One day my housemate told me: “When she and her family moved into their apartment, they were assembling a bookcase with shelves for shoes, having collected it all, they did not find one leg, after searching everything they could they did not find it, and then after a while the leg lay there right in the middle of the room."

Here is another mystical story: one family was sitting in the apartment in the kitchen drinking tea and suddenly from somewhere they heard a whistle that was repeated periodically. All family members were wary, only one grandmother said that the housekeeper brought news, if it’s good, then he won’t whistle anymore. And in truth, he fell silent, and we no longer heard such a whistle, and three days later we learned about the addition of a member to the family, our niece was born."

In many cases, otherworldly forces want to protect us from harm, this is the story my friend told me. They had a dog that was very beloved by all family members, she lived with them for almost 18 years and then she died of old age. The husband of a friend of mine worked as a truck driver, and after the death of the dog, he hits the road. At night when he was driving there was heavy fog and visibility was zero. And suddenly his dog appears on the road and runs away, he, forgetting for a moment that she had died, went after her, after a hundred meters she disappeared. Having arrived safely at the facility and unloaded the goods, the husband hurried back. And what a surprise he was when, having arrived at the place where he had seen the dog at night, there lay a huge block of stone that had broken off the rock and fallen onto the road. His beloved dog saved him from death; following her, he drove around this stone.

Another scary story that shocked me when I heard it from my employee, her grandmother treated people with non-traditional medicine, such as spells and prayers. Having come to her one day, her grandmother told her a story and said that on such and such a day she would die and asked her to prepare for her death. Everything happened just like that, as the grandmother said, she died that day, and the story that she told her was like this. Grandmother lived alone in the house and at night she heard a dog barking, going out into the yard, she saw the appearance of a man in a white robe in the garden, she came up and asked if she needed some help? The image stood with its back to her and did not say anything, then she walked around it on the other side and saw that there was no face in the hood and realized that death had come for her. And she immediately heard a voice that told her when she would die.

And how many inexplicable fortune telling about grooms there are. One of my friends dreamed of getting married quickly and she wanted to see him so much that she was not even afraid to perform a ritual with a mirror at night. Taking a mirror and candles, she went alone to the bathhouse at night. And there she performed a ritual, placed a mirror and lit 13 candles. She began to read the spell for each candle and at the same time extinguishing it. After putting out 12 candles, suddenly someone knocked hard on the window. The friend was very scared and flew home from the bathhouse. In the morning she went to look and saw this picture: the window was broken, and her little kitten was lying on the ground, covered in blood. He, sacrificing his life, saved her from an unknown power, which she, out of her ignorance, wanted to know. The conclusion suggests itself: you need to approach everything inexplicable with caution.