The Haunting Across Generations | A True Horror Story

True Horror Story: A family’s horror story spanning generations. The grandmother’s ordeal, the jinn haunting started by the mother pouring a teapot, and the narrator’s own paranormal experiences.

Actually, it all started many, many years ago, though I only recently learned how far back these events go.

Before I was born, my grandmother and grandfather lived in a village in Bursa (I won’t name the village). My grandfather liked my grandmother and wanted to marry her. My grandmother’s family accepted, and the two young people were married. However, my grandfather’s mother (my great-grandmother) never wanted my grandmother. According to my mother, her mother-in-law made her suffer greatly.

My grandfather and grandmother moved from the village they lived in and built a house for themselves closer to the city center. That house had only two rooms. Between the two rooms was a hall, but the other sides of the hall were open, and there weren’t many houses around. The inside of the house faced the fields. A few years later, rooms were built on these sides too, but before the rooms were built, my grandmother used to tell us that dogs would stand in this hall at night.

A few years after getting married, my grandfather suddenly changed; he would beat my grandmother, curse at her, saying, “I’ll get out of this house!” This went on for years. Anyway, some time passed, and my mother was born. One night, my mother says beings came to take her (my mother), but she repelled them by reciting prayers, and even my grandfather saw them.

One day, 9-10 people get into a minibus to go to the village; it’s a crowd. While returning late at night, two goats come running towards the minibus. Our relative driving the minibus stops it and tells them not to get out. While the goats stand in front of the minibus, my grandmother recites prayers, and the goats suddenly disappear as if they were never there.

Years after this incident, when my mother was in her 20s, she started smoking. When my grandmother left the house, she would post my aunt as a lookout at the garden gate and smoke in the garden. One day, my grandmother and others went to the market, telling my mother to make tea. My mother took the old teapot and went out into the garden. Telling my aunt to wait at the gate, she smoked her cigarette. After finishing, she poured the teapot’s contents under the tree. Of course, this is where the events started.

My mother began having terrible nightmares, waking up to see a tall shadow watching her at the door. This continued for months. Wherever she went, that shadow came with her. She also started waking up with pains in her back and shoulder, eventually unable to sit upright. When she entered the bathroom, she felt as if someone else was bathing with her. My aunt also felt the presence of this shadow and felt uneasy, but couldn’t see the shadow. Also, my mother started reading fortunes (fal), and whatever she said came true. She tells a friend she’s being cheated on by her boyfriend; the girl comes to my mother crying the next day. It was that serious.

One day, my mother told my grandmother what she was experiencing. My grandmother mentioned a woman she knew who dealt with such matters, convinced my mother that going to her might help, and they went to this woman. The woman was sitting on the floor in the middle of a room. She called my mother over, had her sit opposite, and listened to everything. My mother asked the reason for what she was experiencing. The woman said, “There is a house, an empty garden. In this garden, there is a tree… Under that tree, a family is eating. You poured a teapot (of tea) onto that meal and disrupted their meal.” My mother was terrified, of course, and when she asked who these people were, the woman said, “You would never want to know.” The woman also asked my mother, “Do you read fortunes?” My mother confirmed. The woman said, “You are dealing with wrong things, stop it,” and my mother’s fortune-telling chapter closed that day. I sometimes insist my mother read my fortune, “Please read my fortune,” but I have never seen her touch a coffee cup (for fortune-telling) since.

Amulets are written, prayers are read. My mother mentions the pains in her shoulder. The woman smiles and says that one of them sits on my mother’s shoulders all day long, and the pain stems from that. After my mother told me these things, I asked her if she was ever curious about who that black shadow was. “I never wanted to find out,” she said.

Anyway, my mother and grandmother return home, and my mother never sees the shadow again. The pain in her shoulders also goes away, but she occasionally feels its presence. The events don’t end, though. My mother starts seeing things in her dreams this time, but not scary things. If someone talks about her or if something significant is about to happen in her life, my mother sees it in her dreams. (As a note: She told me which university I would attend months in advance.)

My mother and aunt got married. Occasionally, in the dead of night, my mother would have a dream or sense something and immediately call my aunt. Or the exact opposite would happen; my aunt would call my mother. Both of them would definitely experience something on the same day. Also, according to what that woman said, because my aunt was also present where my mother poured the teapot, they were bothering her too.

Some time passes. One day, my two aunts, my mother, and all their husbands are having dinner at my grandmother’s. My grandfather is stern as always. My uncle-in-law, while fetching my grandfather’s jacket, accidentally notices something inside the lining of the jacket and tells my aunt. They open the lining in the kitchen; a piece of paper almost the size of a dining table comes out of the jacket! The jacket was a gift to my grandfather from his mother. On the paper, there are drawn human figures, a photograph of my grandfather and grandmother, and writings in Arabic! My grandfather is shocked when he sees this and doesn’t speak to his mother for years after this incident. When my grandfather’s mother visited them, my grandfather even got very angry at my grandmother for letting the woman into the house.

A few more years pass, a phone call comes from Çanakkale: the news of my grandfather’s mother’s death. My grandfather doesn’t want to go to the funeral, but my grandmother forces him to go. According to what my grandfather heard there, they couldn’t get the body out of the house through the door. Although the body was found the day after death, it had started to smell as if it had decayed in a single day, despite it being winter. Think about that. My grandfather doesn’t offer prayers for her soul; I’ve never heard him speak her name, not even mention her. And I don’t really ask either.

Now let’s get to what I experienced. After my mother went through these events, she started getting interested in these subjects, reading books, and learning some prayers. After experiencing problems with my father, she decided to solve these problems this way. Since I didn’t really believe in these things and was angry at those who dealt with them, my mother told me about this years later.

Around the time my mother started dealing with these things, I was 16 years old. Right around then, I felt that there was someone else existing within me. When I thought about something or did something, even tying my shoes, that inner voice constantly talked to me. It told me what I should do, what I should say. Sometimes I sensed events before they happened; I knew what my friends were talking about me even though I hadn’t heard them.

One night, between sleep and wakefulness, I felt a breath on the back of my neck. It was as if someone was whispering things into my ear, but I couldn’t understand what was being said. On one hand, I was trying to recall the prayers that came to mind; on the other, I was struggling to regulate my pulse and not be afraid. I was about to start reciting Ayetel Kursi when that entity grabbed my left wrist and shouted “Bulut!” (Cloud/Maybe a name?). It squeezed my wrist so tightly that I still remember the pain even now. After saying that, I fell into a much deeper sleep. The next morning, on my way to school, I noticed the bruise on my left wrist and only told my closest friend about it. My wrist was bruised as if squeezed tightly by all fingers. Now I wish I had taken a picture of the bruise because it wasn’t something I could have done by hitting somewhere or injuring my wrist.

Again, some time passes. My father starts behaving irrationally, like someone he’s never been. I can say this because I witnessed it closely. The marriage of the couple who were in love, whom everyone looked up to with envy, who hadn’t compromised on their happiness or love for all these years, was crumbling. My father is out every day, never comes home. He starts locking doors; at home, he doesn’t talk to us at all, doesn’t answer stories or questions. I used to think my father was cheating on my mother, that’s why he behaved like that.

After some time, my aunt and grandmother mentioned a hoca (retired imam) in Bursa Mustafakemalpaşa. They went there thinking maybe he could do something for my father. I was 19 at this time, the period when I was completely afraid of religion. The man, while talking to my mother, mentioned some details that only our family knew. He gave my mother and aunt a glass of water each, told them to wait outside and drink the water while waiting. While my mother and aunt were drinking water outside, shouting sounds in a different language were coming from inside. The man called my mother and the others in. Later, my mother said that the man they saw when they entered the room was not the same person they saw after drinking the water; his gaze and movements had changed. The man said that some people in my father’s family dealt with certain spells and that these spells had affected us. Exactly as my mother had guessed! He said she needed to bring my father there, that both of us (narrator and father) were in a bad state, and if she didn’t bring him, worse things would happen to both of us. The man recited some prayers, wrote some papers, and gave these papers to my mother. He also put a few papers into a bottle of water and said, “You will make him drink this too; if you can’t make him drink it, put it in his food, but be careful, there’s a child in the house, make sure it doesn’t reach him.” The child he referred to was, of course, my 12-year-old sibling.

My mother couldn’t convince either my father or me to go there. She never told me about the water that needed to be drunk, probably because she thought I wouldn’t drink it, but she must have administered it somehow. My father doesn’t believe in such things, and if he experienced anything, he never told us. And I felt an inexplicable hatred towards that man. Can a person hate someone they’ve never met? I don’t know, but whenever this man was mentioned, my facial muscles twitched.

A year later, my mother and I left that house and moved into another one. It was a very hot summer day. My sibling, my mother, and I were sleeping in the living room because it had air conditioning. A few hours after falling asleep that night, on that hot summer night, I inexplicably left the room and lay face down on the bed in the back room. My feet were hanging off the bed. I hadn’t fully fallen asleep yet; the door to the room opened, and someone entered. I could hear footsteps behind me, but I couldn’t move; I couldn’t even open my eyes! The person coming from behind placed wet clothes on my feet and said, “Your mother didn’t wash the clothes!” Then laughed and left. But believe me, that creepy laugh still rings in my ears! After that entity left, I immediately got up and checked my feet, but there was nothing there. The next day, I told my mother about this. She laughed and said, “I couldn’t manage it.” Turns out, my mother had sought help from them through various sessions that night. According to her, she recited Ayetel Kursi to keep them away from the room we were sleeping in. After I experienced this incident, my mother also experienced a few things and stopped dealing with these matters.

But I sometimes read fortunes (fal) for close friends; most of the time, what I say comes true. Sometimes I can sense future events or what is being said about me. At night, I feel someone watching me at the head of my bed; I hear goat sounds from the backyard, but I don’t feel any fear. Maybe because I’ve lived with these for years, it seems ordinary to me now. My mother still communicates with my aunt when she senses something. When I sense something, I tell my mother or aunt. I don’t know why, but on the same day, at the same time, something happens to all three of us. I think I’ve gotten used to the situation now; I’m not as scared as before.

We talked with my mother again recently; we think there’s no prosperity (bereket) in our house, that everything we do goes wrong. Not just us, of course, my grandmother’s and aunts’ families too… We have two or three fields in the village; all the villagers got rich from these fields, we haven’t even been able to buy a car yet. I don’t know why.

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