My Paranormal Activity: A True Story

Photo: Jordi Carrasco

Photo: Jordi Carrasco

I have always been a firm believer in the paranormal. From a young age, I’d hang out in the library with a stack of ghost books, reading until I’d have nightmares. My dad would scold me for spooking myself. There have been a few events in my life that I simply can’t explain and that I’ve chalked up to the paranormal, but one really stands out for me. Christmas of 2010 was the last I shared with my entire family from my mom’s side. I rarely got to see my Aunt, Uncle, and Great Grandma, let alone all of them at the same time.

Upon traveling in Japan, my Aunt and Uncle picked up a solar powered decoration to give to my Mom as a Christmas present. It was a little pink man sitting on the toilet that bobbed his head when placed in the sunlight. We all laughed, but my Great Grandma especially loved it. She laughed endlessly when we showed her a picture of it placed in our bathroom. Sadly, a month later, she passed away. That’s when things got strange with our pink friend.

On numerous occasions, we would find it laying on the ground, knocked off the narrow windowsill. It typically happened when no one was near the washroom, and we knew it couldn’t be the cat as the sill was too high for him to reach and too narrow for him to sit on. My Mom and I were confused, but gently replaced it each time. After a few months, it got a bit more violent. The decoration would be forcibly thrown across the bathroom and the kitchen. It would sometimes happen when we were home, other times, when we were out. We could hear the toy crashing into the wall, 20 feet away. I distinctly remember being on Skype with my boyfriend and hearing it slam into the wall. I was alone and absolutely terrified. It continued to escalate. When I would go to the kitchen, do dishes, or wash my hands, I could sometimes see the toy being violently thrown. One day, it hit me hard and left a bruise.

Strangely, it seemed to only happen in the presence of me or my mother. We were convinced that it had something to do with my Great Grandma, but couldn’t figure out what about her attachment to that silly toy led to these strange events. We loved her so much, her passing was peaceful, and she loved the toy. What was she trying to tell us? This routine continued for seven long months, eventually snapping the neck’s movement mechanism. It finally came to an end when we went out to Manitoba and buried my Great Grandma’s cremains with my Great Grandpa’s and cousin’s. Just as quickly as the violence began, it stopped, and we have had no problems with the decoration since. To this day, I’m still convinced it was her trying to communicate with us, potentially about her displeasure of not being buried. What I do know, however, is that those months were a seriously eerie time.