First
I had a friend in the states who had a wacky sense of humor,
but she was fun. For example, she used to change the stuff in
her fish tank so the fish wouldn't get bored. But that has nothing
to do with this strory. I just thought you'd like it.
Anyway, I used to go to her house after work with her, since
we worked together, sometimes we would just sit and vent about
the day. We would make dinner and watch movies, etc. If it
got too late, or I fell asleep, which was usually the case,
I ended up staying the night. Most times I slept in the same
room and slept very well and usually woke up with her dog
lying on my feet. (poor Jeff...he's dead now)
But, as time went on, she decided to change rooms. She had
been sleeping in the room at the front of the house that looked
like it was probably the main room of the house at one time
because of the windows. They had some beautiful stainded glass
around them. I should mention here that the house was very
old and belonged to her parents who bought if from someone
when they were newlyweds.
So, the next time I stayed over, I slept in that room on
a nice futon. I slept.....for awhile. Then I started having
the most disturbing dreams. They were always about a man in
a long coat, like a rain coat. He was creepy in the dreams,
but I have no idea who he was supposed to be. The dreams were
very violent and at the end very bloody and gory. I never
got a good night's sleep in there, and the dog never went
into that room.
I told her about the bad dreams, and after another night
of the same thing a couple weeks later, she finally told me
about some strange goings-on in that house. She told me of
a black "cloudy figure" that would move across the
room and usually end up in a corner by the ceiling. Once when
that happened, all the doors to that room, 4 in all, slammed
shut at the same time with her standing in the middle of the
room. Wind might have blown one or two shut, but not all 4
at once.
I asked her if she had ever had bad dreams in that room I
had been sleeping in. She kind of half smiled and told me
yes. She then went on to tell me about an old woman who lived
there long ago and had died in that room. She had no idea
who the man was, but she also had dreams about him, and they
were just as bloody and gory. So, she painted the room red
and just used it for a library so she wouldn't have to spend
much time in it.
She has since moved out. I miss her, but not that room. I
have often wondered if the man had something to do with the
death of the old woman.
I guess we'll never know.
Second
My wife is one of those people who have a place in their heart
for stray animals. I, on the other hand, am one of those people
who don't like cats. So I was less than pleased one evening
when my wife came home with a stray cat, which she named Fluffy.
Well, ol'Fluffy and I didn't hit it off. I have a habit of
hanging my neckties over the door handle of my closet door,
and it just so happened that Fluffy quickly turned my ties
into hanging pieces of exercise equipment. He would work off
his feline love handles by jumping up and clawing my ties.
Too stubborn and too stupid to simply fold my ties and put
them into my dresser drawer, I used my shredded ties as a
tangible argument why Fluffy had to go.
After about six weeks and four or five ties destroyed, our
landlord received a mysterious anonymous note saying that
the young couple in apartment 7-B were keeping a pet cat.
Since having the cat violated the terms of our lease, we shipped
Fluffy off to live at my in-laws' farm. What a shame.
Unfortunately, Fluffy was hit by a pickup truck two weeks
later. My wife took it pretty hard. My period of grieving
was a bit shorter.
Weeks passed and I was enjoying a pleasant night's sleep,
not battling my wife for control of the blankets as she was
out of town for a few days on business. I had a brand-new
tie hanging on my closet door, and all was right with the
world. Then I was awakened by that familiar scratching sound
on the closet door, just as I had been many times before.
Seconds later, reality struck, and I sat straight up in my
bed. Fluffy was now residing in kitty heaven--so what was
making the noise? Just then, and I swear to this day, I saw
that familiar white tail dash out of the bedroom.
My heart began to pound. I turned on the lights and ran to
the closet. I grabbed my four iron out of my golf bag and
searched the entire apartment, feeling like I was in the middle
of a Stephen King novel. As I bent down to look under the
sofa, golf club firmly in my grip, I expected a crazed wildcat
to dart out and sink its silk-covered claws into my throat.
Ten minutes later, after finding absolutely nothing, I sat
on the edge of the bed and laughed at myself. A grown man
allowing his imagination to run wild, like a teenager staying
alone for the first time.
I returned to my slumber.
The next morning, I laughed again at myself as I got dressed
for work. But as I stood in front of the mirror putting on
my tie I looked down and...and it was shredded at the bottom!
This was a new tie! I don't think I took my next breath for
at least seven minutes.
I picked up my wife at the airport that night. I was too
embarrassed to tell her my story.
Weeks have passed since that bizarre night. But my wife's
going to be away again in a couple of weeks. I think I'll
put my ties in my dresser drawer, and maybe I'll share the
blankets with my four iron. Just in case...
Third
Yup.. I did this once and it worked.. it was creepy, but the stuff that happened to me afterwards was even creepier *shivers remembering the inci- dent*
Anyway, this is what happened.
When I was in eighth grade, I was spending the night at a Girl Scout camp (I think it was in the end of March, beginning of April). I was there with a bunch of other girls from the surrounding areas and we were all being train- ed to be Junior camp Counselors for the following summer. A little back- ground on the building we were staying in. It was brand new... built the fall before we were there and nothing bad happened during the construction of it. Okay...
We had some free time before we were supposed to be in bed so we all roamed the camp in the dark with a thunderstorm brewing up... it was kind of scarey and very very dark. Lots of trees and clouded over so there was no moon- light. When we came back inside, we decided to play "Light as a Feather, Heavy as a Board". I had always been interested in the supernatural (being intune with it and all, the brief experiences that I had had with spirits were nothing to be frightened about, unlike what has happened to me since).
I volunteered to be the person playing dead. After a couple of minutes of hushing up the giggling and getting the girls that were being obnoxious out of the room, we started. We turned out all the lights and had on a couple of flashlights, put under pillowcases to muffle the light a bit. Everyone started chanting the "Light as a feather, stiff as a board" and after a few tries they lifted me up with their little fingers. Everyone was excited af- terwards and wanted to try it, but it wouldn't work with anyone else for some reason.
Okay, this wasn't so bad. After we were done playing, we all stayed awake for a while scaring each other with spook tales and Jokes. Finally one by one, we fell asleep. All that is for me, and a friend of mine that had her sleeping bag next to mine and that witnessed everything that was to happen to me that night...
By this time, the thunderstorm was raging on full force. Lots of heavy rain, noisy thunder and bright flashes of lightening and my sleeping bag was sit- uated right underneath the window. As I lay there trying to get to sleep, I heard a voice calling to me. It sounded like my Grandfather that had died a couple of years earlier and to whom I was very close. I listened to him and as he got clearer, I pictured a image of him in my mind. It was comforthing in a way.
Then it started to scare me. It was saying that it was beaautiful where it was and that it wanted me to join him there. That I would love it with him and I would never have to worry aabout anything ever again. It kept calling "Sarah, come... step into the gardens" and I kept saying "no. I don't want to be in the gardens with you" and it replied "but Sarah, I love you, I want you to be with me. I am so lonely without anyone else here to love me" This made me suspicious since my grandmother had died about 8 years before he did and they had been very much in love. I asked it where Grandma was and it told me that she wasn't there. It got more persistant, promising me great things and great happiness. I kept saying no I didn't want to go on to the place where it was.
By this time, I could tell that it was getting mad and it demanded me to come with it. Finally I felt myself shouthing "NO! I DON'T WANT TO GO! I WASN'T MEANT TO BE WITH YOU YET AND I WILL SEE YOU IN THE GARDEN WHEN MY TIME IS UP! I WANT TO BE WITH MY LIVING FAMILY AND FRIENDS!!" With this, all of a sudden there was a gigantic crack of thunder and a huge flash of lightening as the rain lightened up to a little over a sprinkle. I woke up to find my friend staring at me. She looked at me and I asked what was wrong (I had thought at the time that it was a bad dream).
She looked at me quizically and told me that I had been muttering to some- thing and that I had been glowing with a light green light and that when she tried to reach out and touch me, she had recieved a small electrical shock.
Now that I have grown older and had some time to reflect on all that has happened to me. I firmly believe that whatever that was that night *was not* my grandfather, but rather somthing that had sensed my potential and had wanted to get rid of a future enemy. I have faced this demon a couple of times since that first encounter and every time it has tried trickery to convince me to come with him. I am certain that if I ever did, I would die. I don't know, but that is what I believe.
Note: I am a firm believer that there is a God. Be it a greater diety than we are or more then one, but I believe that there is something out there that is looking over us and trying hard to keep us all safe. Some people call it intuition, some call it a guardian angel and some call it God, but I believe that something is out there. Although I am not quite so certain ex- actly what it is or who it is, it is keeping me safe and as long as I listen to what it has to offer me, I will be kept safe.
Another note on the person that asked about loved ones coming back to let people know that they are safe:
My grandfather that I had mentioned above used to come into my room (after he died) and give me a goodnight kiss. I would feel this as a cool, soft breeze across my cheek and a warm feeling inside. This happened for a long time, sometimes in the middle of winter and others in the middle of summer. But it always seemed to be when I needed it. When I was feeling down or discouraged, it was his way to let me know that he loved me. It helped me a lot after he died.
