My grandmother's father died in 1921, but his disembodied spirit continued to torment the family for several months after his death. A wretchedness filled every room, an anguish so black, my grandmother stopped speaking and everyone cried ceaselessly, day and night.

It was beyond the realm of common grief, so finally my grandmother went to a psychic, who told her that the feeling of ennui was her father calling out to his family, seeking their help. The medium could sense that the father's physical body was not right; he was face-down and contorted unnaturally. The situation needed to be rectified, and after much distress and paperwork, the family was finally given permission to have his coffin exhumed.

By doing so, they learned he was not fully dead when he was buried. Somehow, his death had been erroneously diagnosed, and it was obvious that at some point, he was still alive while inside the coffin. As evidence, the flesh on his fingers had been scraped down to the bone from trying to frantically claw himself out of the grave. And even more horribly, he had actually chewed his own mouth off during his panicked frenzy.

Once they reburied him with his body placed to rest comfortably on his back, the dark aching shadows left the home--but the horror of having a family member buried alive remained.