Legitimate Work-At--Home Jobs

What is a legitimate opportunity? You would probably agree that by answering a classified ad for a waitress at a local diner is legitimate. Or becoming a sales representative for a major drug manufacturer is legitimate. But, is purchasing the list of companies that hire telecommuters legitimate? Is answering the telephones for 900 numbers legitimate? Is posting your resume for free legitimate?

There are numerous organizations who are trying to keep cyberspace safe for all of us. The scam police are out and about the internet and many websites post names of individuals and companies that will take your money and then change their post office box. The World Wide Web has its own version of BBB to try to cut down on illegality. But you have to do your own part in the investigation and the determination of honesty and truth or a legitimate opportunity means so many different things to many different people.

Answering telephone numbers for a 900 service is legitimate work. It may not fall under your definition of such, but there are a number of people who do it and enjoy it and are successful entrepreneurs. Is it the right job for you? The only way to determine that is to know your own definition of legitimate.

Consider this: You are looking for work and you pay the newspaper to run a classified advertisement that says “Will work for food” Is this legitimate? What if you found a website that offered to post your resume for a fee. Is that different than paying to run a classified ad? It is legitimate if all they are promising is to do is to post your resume for potential advertisers to read.

Or what about the websites that offer to sell you a product that has a listing of companies that hire telecommuters. Is that legitimate? It is if you receive what they promise, a list of companies that hire telecommuters--not companies that currently have telecommuting positions available. Do you see the difference? Both of these examples fall within that huge definition of legitimacy.

Do all of your research to determine what you believe to be the definition of a legitimate opportunity BEFORE you buy into something that will make you lose time and money. Know exactly what you are paying for in relation to what a company has promised to provide. Always pay by credit card so that you have the added protection for a refund and never purchase a “legitimate opportunity” on impulse. You have to do your own part in order to keep from being scammed by legitimate opportunities.

by Tammy Harrison

A Man That Shouldn’t be There

First a little history… I am 34 years old and the proud mother of 4 wonderful boys. I now reside in Pennsylvania, as I have for the past 11 years. However, my story, encounter, tale, or what ever you choose to name the experience took place some 27 years ago in the family home that I lived and grew up for the first 22 years of my existence, located in New Jersey. The house that I now speak of is quite old; at least 150 years old (it probably is even older than that). It has been in my family since the early 1950’s and is still owned and lived in by my father. And at the age of 7 is where I will begin my story.

As I said I was around 7 years old at the time. I shared a bedroom at the top of the stairs with my older sister. The room is very small so my sister and I had bunk beds. I slept on the top bunk. We were both asleep on this night. I remember waking from a nightmare (even after all this time, I still remember the nightmare that I was having). But little did I know that the true nightmare for me was not the on in my dreams but the one that I faced when I opened my eyes.

The room was dark but what I saw was not. In the doorway of my bedroom I saw a man. He was tall and thin. He was wearing a suit from what I now know to be the mid to late 1800’s, complete with a top hat and ribbon neck tie. He had brown eyes and a long thin mustache. And although the room was pitch black, I saw him in every detail. He/it seemed to be glowing.

Needless to say I screamed. My mom, who was downstairs at the time, turned on the hall light and came running upstairs. I told her what I had seen, only to be told that I was dreaming it.( which I knew that I wasn’t.) The hall light was left on that night, and probably every night there after until I moved out. I will say this, I never did feel entirely alone in that house even when I was the only one there. I always had the feeling that if I turned my head fast enough I would see something that I really did not want to see. I still feel this way when I go to visit my father. But this is not where this story ends…

About a year ago I was talking with my then 13 year old son. Just talking about this and that and somehow the conversation turned into discussing my fathers (his grandfathers) house. Out of the blue my son starts to tell me that he never liked going upstairs by himself. He felt uncomfortable being up there alone. Now you have to understand that I never ever told him my feelings about that house or about what I had seen. That is why what he told me next gave me goose bumps and a chill as I have never felt before… He continued on by telling me the following…

He was alone up stairs one day on the computer that is in the room at the top of the stairs (the same one that my sister and I shared). He was finished on the computer and decided to go downstairs to get something to drink. He got to the bottom of the stairs and was about ready to open the door (the stairs leading up stairs are enclosed and you need to open a door to go up them) and he looked back up the stairs. What he saw was the shadow of a tall, thin man wearing a top hat. In the same spot where 26 years ago I had seen him!

I never doubted what I saw that night. I have had other experiences since. Some just a feeling, some just a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, and on one other occasion an apparition. Nor do I doubt what my son told me he saw. But does him seeing the same thing that I saw prove that the house that I grew up in has an unseen resident? For me, him telling me his story is proof enough.

Written by Holly

It was three years ago when school had just finished, and summer break began. I was 15 and didn’t really believe in paranormal activity like ghosts. During the year, I became friends with another fellow 15 year old named David in our high school guitar class. He always talked about ghosts when he had the chance, but I still always thought of it as fiction.

During the first week of the break, David called me because he had just got a new big screen TV, and wanted me to stay overnight and have a horror movie marathon, seeing as his parents were in Seattle for their anniversary. When I arrived, David was trying to find a solution to a problem. He couldn’t connect his because there was no room to set up a cable outlet. But then a light bulb clicked, and he thought of having it in the attic.

He had never been in there before, but always heard movement. He had lost a lot of interest in the supernatural and thought it was just rats.David had never been into his attic before, so this was kind of like an adventure. We pulled down the stairs to it, and walked up.

It was very dark, and filled with all sorts of unused stuff. The only light came from a hanging light that David turned on. It didn’t give much life, but just enough. We went to the corner that was closest to the room holding his TV only to find it filled with toys. David had moved in a few years back, so we assumed it must have been from the previous owners. There was a small red tricycle, a ragged, one-eyed doll, books and a few blocks with letters on them. Only thinking about the cable outlet, we took the stuff and dumped them in the trash outside.

When we got back inside, David pulled out his dads tool kit and we ventured back up into the attic. As we got closer to the corner, we heard the scurrying of tiny footsteps, as if it were a child running around behind us. We swung around to look, but nothing was there. Insisting it was a rat, David kept installing the outlet until it was finished, and all wires were connected.

We started making our way down the steps when we heard the tiny footsteps again. Thinking it was yet another rat, we kept going until we reached the second last step and heard a noise, which sounded nothing like footsteps. We stopped to listen again. Was what we were hearing crying? The crying continued, and we sprinted back up the stairs to find where the source of the crying was. Looking around, we found that the crying had stopped. I suggested that the crying might have been coming from one of the kids playing outside. David agreed, although I could tell that his mind had wandered back to ghosts. It had been months since he thought of them.

We left the attic and decided that we should take our minds off of it and watch TV. Our thoughts of the attic leaving us, we watched TV for a few hours. Halfway through one of our favourite shows, we heard a loud crash down the hall and the TV went black. Flipping through the channels, there was nothing but a dark screen. Immediately, thoughts of the crying child seeped into our minds, and we made our way to the bedroom down the hall.

Our first thought was to go into the attic, but the loud crashing noise came from the bedroom that resided under half of it. We decided to investigate, and start with the bedroom. We pushed open the door to see the four poster bed completely flipped over with the sheets still perfectly tucked in, and the posts crumpled into tiny rods.. We tried to lift it and found that it was way too heavy for two people to lift, let alone slam it down with enough force to damage the metal posts. The thing puzzling us was that the only way toward there was past the TV room, and we would’ve seen anyone who walked by.

Becoming a bit fearful of what was in the house, we pulled the stairs down by the long pull cord, walked up and emerged into the dusty attic to find that it had gotten much, much colder. Although afraid, we cared more about the TV then anything so we cautiously made our way to the outlet. When we got closer, we were shocked to see that the wires were cut. Not chewed off, but cut perfectly as if by wire cutters.

As I stood staring at the wires in disbelief, I could feel David tapping my shoulder violently. In a shaking voice I heard him say my name. As I turned my head, my heart skipped a beat. There was the tricycle with the doll sitting on it, and blocks stacked beside it. The same toys we threw out. As I looked in further, I noticed that the blocks stacked spelled out L-I-L-Y.

Staring in horror, our only thought was to get the hell out of there. Another loud crash from below increased our desire to leave. Something was seriously not right. As we put the stairs back up into the roof and made our way to his couches, I heard David swear so loud, I jumped. He ran towards his TV and fell to his knees. There was the doll standing in front of the TV, with the tricycle smashed right into the screen. The one thing that made this truly terrifying that the smashed TV was still in static.

Just then, the sound of running is heard behind us, and we turn in time to catch a glimpse of something small and dark, like a shadow, disappear around the corner. Having enough, we dashed to the bathroom and locked the door. Trying to figure out what’s going on, we begin to go over what just happened when a faint knocking is at the door. Our hearts stopped, while the knocking came again, and a giggling was heard. The giggling made my hair stand on end, because it wasn’t a playful giggling. It was like a laugh when your worst enemy sees you trip and fall.

As we sank back towards the wall, we heard the laughter and footsteps slowly fade away. We waited for a good hour before peering out the door. We gathered up our courage, and decided that it would be best to just leave, and the sooner we got out, the better. We tip-toed around the house until the door was in view, and then broke into a jog. We were almost there until we saw something that stopped us dead in our tracks. The wheel of the tricycle was lying right in front of the door. As we turned around, we saw the worn out blue blocks sitting there, stacked spelling out the word S-T-A-Y. Awestruck, we stood in silence as the pidder padder of tiny feet grew closer and closer.

We had never heard or experienced anything ever like this. It was probably the worst thing that has ever happened to us. As we just stood, staring, glued to the floor, David had an idea. He wanted to take the toys back to where they were originally. He had heard of people disturbing things that belonged to people that have passed away. Their spirits were angered by the disturbance. As we gathered the toys and made our way to the attic, we heard the sound of the small feet trailing us up. As we placed the toys back, the anxiety seemed to lift and we went back downstairs to find that the TV was good as new.

When David’s parents got home, we explained the whole ordeal to them. Though very skeptical, they decided to come in contact with the old owners to find out if they knew a Lily. They were surprised to find that the old owners, The Walden’s, had a daughter Lily who had died in a fire when she was 6. It happened in the attic, which was where she slept and played. Although nothing as wild has happened, the occasional sound of soft feet can be heard from the attic.

by Reid Ferguson