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So this kid had some kind of friendship with the ghost. The kid also told me one day when his old brother was pushing him around the spirit pushed his brother across the room and yes his brother confirmed it was true. I refused to go inside there again, some of the kids other friends had told me about there expiriences with jackal when they were invited over.

His dad told me that it’s real and apparently every single night the spirit likes to shake the doorknobs and open doors as the whole family is sleeping. I freaked out a bit, so I go downstairs and tell his dad. We both heard loud knockings from each of his bedroom walls that were happening at once.There were no rooms next to his bedroom so outside of his walls was the outdoors. The kids bedroom door started closing and shutting on its own right in front of are eyes and there was no one behind the door or in the hallway. The burst of wind was so cold it was like winter air and it turned the whole bedroom cold.

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He called the ghost by its nickname “Jackal” and that’s when a breeze of cold air rushed into the bedroom, there was no AC on and it was summer time so it was boiling hot through out the whole house there couldn’t have been any cold wind coming us all the windows were closed. So he invited me over, me and him were the only ones in his bedroom and we were the only ones upstairs. I did not believe him one bit and thought he was nuts. He told me, he called the spirit jackal and that is was a friendly ghost. Anyways he told me there was a spirit of a old man who died in his townhouse from old age. Was friends with this kid in my neighbourhood, I’m just gonna call him by “the kid” throughout the story. Nobody talks about it, it’s been years now, maybe letting the dead Rest In Peace isn’t such a bad idea…… My friends, clearly freaked out, were ghostly pale and were muttering underneath their breath, likely summoning their courage or warding off whatever the whispers were. The whispers disappeared immediately and was replaced by eerie silence, not even the insects made any noise.

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The moment I did that the whispering started growing louder and louder, then it started moving, like with every whisper it was getting closer, the whispers felt like they were within arms reach and the sound was starting to feel like it was coming within my own head plus the closer the voices got the colder my body felt, So I did what anybody would do, I screamed as loud as I could with as much rage as I could muster. I hard some friends over for my birthday party, we decided to end the day by going for a walk to the old graveyard, everything was normal until we went to leave, 3 mins in I hear whispering coming from the woods, I tell the other guys to shut up and ask them if they can hear anything. There was no way I could have known this, and I honestly didn't even think about this guy's situation much, but that event was truly profound. We headed back into town after the weekend, and I came to find out that exactly ten minutes-or less-after the moment in the cabin with my friend, his dad was declared dead in the hospital. This camp was in 1997 or 1998, and we were in the bush in Alaska, off a dirt road covered in ice and miles and miles from the nearest civilization-no radio, no phones, no email, no comms at all, as we were a few valleys over from the nearest cell service area.

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I just thought it would be inappropriate and possibly hurtful to say something like that to this kid when his dad is fighting for his life, and me here, full of BS, trying to say some BS that makes him feel better for no other reason than to make him feel better. I cast the thought out of my head as being a random morbid thought, or macabre.not sure which definition applies. I was hanging out with this kid, and we were in one of the cabins, and out of completely nowhere, I get an absolutely overpowering urge to tell this friend 'your dad wants you to know he's OK and he's not in pain.he just really, REALLY wants you to know he's OK.' I had a friend there, who-a lot of us forgot at the time-had his dad fighting against cancer, back in town. I was about 15 or maybe 16, and at a Bible camp for Christian kids.