The haunted Lodge at Santa Fe (New Mexico)

A true story for Halloween:

In 2014, my mom, sisters, nieces, and I went to a hotel in Santa Fe, New Mexico known as The Lodge at Santa Fe. Shortly after we got in bed the first night, I was in the hypnagogic state between being asleep and awake when I saw three young Native American girls. When I first saw them they asked, “Do you know who we are?”

I replied that I knew that they were three young women, but I didn’t know specifically who they were, and then we talked for a little while.

Later that evening as everyone slept, there were two events where the microwave made beeping sounds like someone was pressing intermittently on the buttons.

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Fast-forward to 2017 and I came to the same hotel with my mother, Sister #2, and her husband. I didn’t tell them anything about the girls, though Sister #2 was well aware of the microwave.

One morning while I was in the shower, a cleaning woman came in and started cleaning the rooms. My sister and her husband — who is from Mexico — wanted to know about some local things, including where to get authentic food, so they spoke to her for a while.

At some point the woman told them that this hotel is haunted. She told them that people had heard strange sounds, and people have reported that their things had been moved. I have no idea how they got on that subject, though maybe Sister #2 told her about the microwave.

When I came out of the shower the woman was cleaning my room, so I went into the other room to finish getting dressed. As I was putting my shoes on, my brother-in-law told me that the cleaning woman said the hotel was haunted. (I would later learn that he was hoping to scare me by telling me this.)

As I was putting on my shoes I replied, “Yes, I know,” and told him about the young girls, who I had spoken with several times over subsequent visits.

At this point he called the cleaning woman back into our room, and as he translated my experience, she turned to look at me, and with a quiver in her voice she said something like, “Tres chiquitas (or chicas)?” (There was a third word in there that I couldn't make out.)

My brother-in-law turned to me and asked, “Three young girls?”

I said yes, and pointed to an old black-and-white picture on the wall with Native Americans in it and said they looked like them, but younger.

At this point I thought the cleaning woman was going to throw up or pass out, and I felt bad for saying anything. But when she recovered she said that several other people, including the maintenance men, have seen three little girls playing in the hallways in the main building. They would see the girls playing, and then disappear.

(Boo.)