What was or is in the closet?

The following was submitted by one of our readers...

I have visited your site for the first time today and am inspired to share a story of my own with you. Normally I don't talk much about it (I don't want people to think I'm a nut!) but after reading some of your stories I called my mother for the finer details, maybe you could check it out to see if their is any validity to it.

Well, hear goes, when I was six a women moved into our co-op on Pell st. My mother and her clicked really well, they would sit outside for hours at night talking. One night my mothers friend confessed her four year old son was creeped out in their new apartment and frankly she was too (hence the reason she would prefer to stay outside and talk).

She tried to dismiss it as not being used to the place, but told my mother she often felt like she wasn't alone, or would feel a draft when no windows were open. The worst room though was her sons room, it just felt like really bad vibes in that room and her son hated going in his room, he wouldn't play in there and he'd never sleep in there, he said the boogie-man in his closet would get him.

I guess this just fed into my mothers friends fear, so my mother, always the little investigator devised a plan to prove to her friend it was just new-apartment jitters.

She said that I never complained of boogie-men or monsters so they should have me sleep over. The next night my mom and I were at her friends house, I was watching tv while they were in the kitchen (I think her son was at his dads) when I started to dose off on the couch. My mother told me to go lie down in her friends sons room. They wanted to do this when her son wasn't there so I wouldn't know about any 'boogie-man'.

I remember going in his room and lying down on the bed, the closet was a few feet beneath the foot of the bed, I just felt drawn to it or something, I couldn't stop staring at it. I started to feel very frightened and wanted to get back up but I was planted with fear.

I started whispering "There's no such thing as monsters, there's no such thing as monsters" and closed my eyes as tight as I could. But damn it, there was something in that room I could feel it at the bottom of the bed. I heard the closet door rattle or something, like a door loose when there's a draft and that was it, I flew out of that room like I was on fire. I ran right into the kitchen and said, "Mom, there's a monster in the bedroom!" My mother and her friend just looked at each other.

I started crying because I wanted to go home. My mother tells me that her friend started asking questions and found out a man hung himself in the closet, supposedly he was gay and his mother I guess out of shame became an alcoholic and when he was approved for a sex change his mother said she'd diss-own him so he killed himself.

Unfortunately, my mom can't remember where her friend got this info so I don't know about the story's credibility. I do know however, that seventeen years later I still check the closet before I go to bed on many occasions, and the feeling I had in that room that night will be etched in my memory as long as I have it.

We are planning to look further into this story but I wanted to share it to ask the readers of this page to help out... Does this story ring any bells? Do you have anything to add or even a similar report or story? Both the Toronto Ghosts and Hauntings Research Society and the original author would like to know... Please, send your report or story to This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.