This happend in the beginning of the 90s. My grandma had 15 children. Many of them survived and got married. Her home was full of wedding photographs of every one of her stems plus a lot of paintings since, one of her sons, was a painter. 

One day, when my grandma was 80 something  one of her daughters suffered an accident and ended up in coma state. This aunt of mine haf no children so she used to visit grandma everyday. 

Nobody had the guts to tell my grandmother the horrible reality that the family was living. My aunt was near to her end. It was a matter of days, actually. 

She, my grandmother, was very very worried because her daughter did not make any phone calls to her, stop visiting her and, in the faces of all of us she could see the pain of a certain loss. "She is on a journey" we used to tell her. But she was pretty aware that this was a lie.

One morning I went to visit the old lady and I met her in the street. The hospital was near her home so she scaped while no one was watching and went straigjt were she had the feeling that her daughter actually was. With my heart broken , I took her by the arm, and took her back home. Seeing her daughter would have kill her. I was aware of how bad she was... better not to be seen.

In a couple of weeks my aunt passed away. In a couple of weeks my grandma mental state was about to EXPLODE. And it did. In the very moment that her beloved daughter expired the doors of the house opened with enormous tremble and noise. Then all the pictures and paintings , huge, mediums and small jumped and crashed on the floor leaving their holdings intact on the walls. They JUMPED!!! One of them even felt on my grandma's head since she was sitting on a sofa by one of the walls. One of the biggest iron frames would have kill her. Everybody stood silent. Then, a phone call. My aunt had just passed away.

I have never been into camping and all that crap since I was born a gentleman and whatever it is not silk and honey, 6 stars hotel rooms, the best restaurants and limos gets me very sick and I can die. Once I spent a whole week suffering insommia. It was a fucking pea that Graham Bonnet placed under my mattress. This can give you an idea of what a camping night can do to me.  This was 1998, I was young, pretty and naive those days so, I got involved in a plot that  in the end, made me spent a night in the middle of the country sleeping in a tent with the young beauty that now is my wife. "Sleeping" is not the most apropiate word since I had not the chance to see Morpheus that night. I was exhausted of walking up and down here and there not going anywhere so, in any bed, I would probably have slept something but, that tent... ugggghh The love of my life , used to this campings affairs, felt asleep in the very moment that she closed her eyes. For me, that night became eternal. Like 4 A.M. I was starting to go nuts, my eyes were soared and it was pretty clear that there were no chance for me to sleep. No mercy. Then, in the dark red light of the tent,  the most horrible and unexpected thing happened. My wife and I were sharing a sleeping back and I was embracing her from behind so  the only thing that I could see was the back of her head.  Suddenly  her head turned 180 degrees and looked at me. Her expression was the one of a very thin old lady FULL OF HATE and her voice was soft and sibylline  Spitting hate , at only an inch of my face, she told me: "You, son of a bitch, did not have any other place to place your tent that on the ground where I was buried?" After saying that, that horrible, horrible face turned 180 degrees and went back to the right human possition leaving me absolutely petrified. I have never been more scared in my life. Never. Nothing announced that horrifying appeareance. No light batteries ran out, no suddenly fall of temperature or any other thing that usually occurs before any paranormal phenomena. She did not even cursed me or spit at me after giving me her message with her angular diabolic face that was actually my wife's face modified as if she was the most terrible witch.  I stood in silent for less than a minute, my heart galloping crazy, asuming the incredible event that I had experienced. The most important thing for me was to be sure that that lady had abandoned my wife's body. Trembling, I touched her shoulder "Cati..., hey, Cati???" She stood silent. She was sleeping. I sat on the bag to check her properly and her face was back to the beauty. This incredibly traumatic event lasted less than a minute but it stuck to my mind forever. Bear in mind that  during the spanish civil war , the victims of both sides were buried wherever nobody would find them. Thousands of civilians of all ages were shot and went six foot underground leaving no trace in order that their families would not have a place to visit them and no martyrs were created. This is also one of the reasons why we have an enormous amount of paranormal phenomena in new constructed houses where nobody has lived before. Those houses are placed over the tombs of ancient, decrepit neighbors who had not even the chance to say goodbye to their loved ones. Federico Garcia Lorca dreamed of this on his book Poet in New York and, sadly, that dream became real. He was assesinated just for being homosexual, his only "crime", and his body has been searched for years to this day. What a disgusting paradox it was that the daughter of the guardia civil who decided to kill Garcia Lorca became a huge actress playing the part of Bernarda Alba, Lorca's most famous character. This paradox turner her mad and she ended her days as a nutty beggar on the streets. She cried to the passers by " It is not my fault!!! I did not kill him!!!!" Very sad and true. She was a good lady and an incredible actress. She was doomed from rhe start...

I am deeply sorry for that lady that gave me the creeps that camping night in 1998. I guess that, if I had suffered her fate, I would also be full of hate for the rest of eternity.

In the photo below, taken hours before my paranormal meeting I was still being young, pretty and naive. Now I am not anymore.