Always Uneasy When I Visit

I was born 22 years ago in a small Colorado town an hour’s drive from both Farmington and Durango, just below Mesa Verde and a few miles from Ute Mountain. This was where I spent the first five years of my life before moving to Oklahoma. We still go back every year around summer for about a week or so to see family.

Now, the town being where it was, there was a heavy Native American population there and a reservation about ten miles away. Mostly Ute but a fair amount of Navajo as well. The culture was and still is very entwined into the town’s architecture and local art.

Now, as for the skinwalkers. As a child, I never learned the word or what it meant. Years later I came to learn that my mother (a white woman who had grown up well away from Native American culture and legend) always shuddered at the mention and hated the topic. She’s one of the ones who doesn’t necessarily believe in such things but she can’t be certain they aren’t real. I myself am a little more certain.

When I was younger (and even now, I think, because of these events) I had a crippling fear of the dark. The vulnerability of being in a place where you cannot see things that can see you just fine. The unknown.

One night, when I was about nine, I was over at another young boy’s house having a sleepover. The game room we fell asleep in had a large sliding glass door that faced out into an empty lot of dirt and scrub. It wasn’t uncommon to see a prairie dog town in full bustle there. But at night, the lot was a bleak and terrifying place. I had fallen asleep on the floor facing the window.

At some point I woke up to go to the bathroom, walking down the hall and doing so. On my way back to the small pallet I had on the floor, I looked out the door into the lot. Why I did, I don’t know, given my fear of the dark. From the faint moonlight I could make out a small form darting about from scrub brush to scrub brush, maybe a hundred feet away. Most likely a prairie dog or a rabbit. Dropping from out of the sky a hawk swooped down and pinned it just out of sight behind a patch of yucca. I was quite shocked by the sudden appearance of the bird, but not as much as I was by the man who crawled out from behind the patch on his hands and knees and stood up. In his hand was a small form dangling from its back leg.

Now, this man wasn’t dressed normally, as you may guess. From where I was I could make out that he was shirtless, wearing ratty looking pants and he didn’t appear to be wearing shoes. But most striking was his choice of headwear. On his head and going halfway down his back was what I could only imagine to be a full pelt of a coyote or a fox, with feathers tied to and dangling from the paws and tail.

He dropped the prairie dog/rabbit into a pouch on his waist and stood there for a few moments, looking around. He took a few steps away before stopping and turning to look at the house. At me. I don’t know for sure if he saw me standing there in the shadows of the room, but I know he looked directly at that glass door. He turned back the way he was walking, dropped to all fours and ran off, far more smoothly than most people would in such a manner.

I was frozen there for what seemed like hours but was more likely a few minutes. I heard my friend say my name behind me, him having woken up to pee and seeing me just standing there, staring out the door. He asked me what I was doing and I promptly told him it was nothing and laid back down. I didn’t sleep at all again that night. I could hear coyotes howling and yipping in the distance all the way to morning.

In the morning my friend and I went out into the lot, him to see prairie dogs and me to see what the hell happened last night. As I approached the yucca I noticed that there was blood on the ground and the leaves. Not much, but enough to notice at a glance. There was also fur and what looked to be a bird skull down at the base of one of the plants. But the thing I hoped I wouldn’t find was right there in front of me. In the dirt, there were very clear hand and foot prints leading out from the bush and away into the scrub, off toward Ute Mountain.

I never told anyone of this experience, and I never spent the night at that friend’s house again. Whenever we go back to visit family, we drive by that friend’s house on the way in. And every time, I shudder just a little bit when I think of that night.

I don’t know what I saw that night, but from everything I learned since then I think I saw what the Navajo call a Yee Naaldlooshii.

A skinwalker.

Demon Mommy

Hi, I have been lustening to a lot of “true scary stories” on youtube, and while I generally have stories about people, I was reminded of this one incident involving what I believe was a demon.

This is true, I hope someone believes me.

I  am 18 now, living in the southern US, and when I was very young, let’s say, 4-6? I was living with both of my parents in an old farm house built by my great Grandfather.

Because of this, i was not afraid of  creaks and bumps at night, as I always assumed that it was the house.

One night, I was staying up playing with my dolls, but with the lights low so my parents would think I was asleep. I heard a voice from the back of the house call me. It sounded like my mom, but something was strange about it. However, both of my parents drink a lot, so I just assumed she was drunk.

So assuming that I’ve been caught up past bedtime, I run to the back room, which is pretty far, as i have to go from my bedroom, through a long and dim hallway, just as I get in the room, I look up and see my mothers face. Staring. Grinning.

She was taller than normal, and her smile was… too big. It was calm, yet vicious. Her eyes were so sharp.. to this day my stomach turns remembering that face. It was my moms hace, but it wasn’t my mom. I remember distinctly feeling like I was being squeezed. I was just staring at her, unable to move, but I stirred up the courage to speak. “M-mommy?”

Just then it’s smile got wider, and i felt it getting closer, when I ran full speed to the living room.  I was screaming for my mom. Which, is strange because I was running from..her?

But then, there was my mom sitting on the sofa, yes she was sauced up and medicated, but it was my mom! I looked behind me, and I saw the light flicker back on in the hallway.

I ran into my moms arms, and cried, “it was you! Why did you smile so big!?” And she laughed it off, hugging me tight,

My mom still remembers that night, because after that I always called her to my room to walk me to the bathroom.

Even now, I avoid that room, and refuse to go near it at night.

My Childhood Was Scary

Let me start off by saying that I never realized how odd these things actually were until I looked back at my childhood and my teenage years that only recently ended. It’s possible that I may have some weird crazy mental illness or something, but I doubt that. Probably the one real strange thing is that some of these began to stop just last year during the beginning of spring. Anyways, I’ll start from the story my parents have told me. My first time hearing this it was from a conversation with my mom about how imaginative I was as a baby.

She said that I had an imaginary friend who she thought to be a parrot because whenever I would “imagine” it, I would stare at one specific spot above me when I was in my cradle and smile and giggle. Only one day while I was smiling and giggling at my so called imaginary friend, my mom was strapping me into a carseat and when she closed the car door, I stopped giggling and began to cry while staring at the same spot. She said she thought she squished my imaginary bird friend. It was a weird story because one of my oldest memories was a blurry scene of staring at a car door while crying. Of course, that could just be me visualizing the scene.

That was supposedly when I was one. The next strange event kinda was the first domino to fall. I was eating some cereal at night while watching TV when out of the corner of my eye I see someone move into the kitchen. When I looked I didn’t see anything. What’s worse is that I heard nothing and that my parents were outside at the time.

This spiraled into some crazy things. After passing by a room or a hallways at a good distance, out of the corner of my eye I would see tall, faceless, shadowy figures. Everytime I saw them I was scared and ran to the closest adult, I was still quite young, around seven or eight. It wasn’t always that I saw them, that’s what made me scared, I never knew when they would cross the edge of my vision. When I entered my teenage years, I still occasionally saw them but I was used to it so I would only be surprised briefly and continue on with whatever I was doing.

Along with this I would sometimes hear voices calling my name or asking me things. I could be listening to music, suddenly hear someone call for me and I would hear it thinking my parents were home and needed me. Nine times out of ten I was wrong. The most vivid time it happened was last year when I was sitting in my roomand I heard in a loud yet quiet voice yell my name. It was airy and seemed to have a strange and recognisable voice to me and it spooked me.

One time, about two and a half years ago, I was relaxing on the couch and watching TV. The couch I sat on was around the center of the room and the back faced the kitchen and a hallway was just diagonal of it. Suddenly I felt a strange…feeling? Like suddenly I felt there was something behind me, behind the couch, just looming over me. All my ife I have heard the cliche about feeling when you’re being watched but never really believed it happened.

But this event is probably the one time I would use that cliche to describe it. Only instead of watching it was more like staring or eying me up like prey. I froze, I never felt this before. Sudden feeling of dread and that I’m in mortal danger. The TV was the only sound aside from my heavy breathing.

I couldn’t even will myself to turn around, like whatever was behind me was about to pounce and kill me. Eventually it faded and I felt safer. I moved to the couch that sat against the wall after that.

I don’t believe in ghosts, but I do believe in demons. My family is decently religious, although they have become less so in the past years. I’m probably the only one who tries to keep up with my beliefs and practices them normally. Whatever those shadows were, or that strange presence, or even the voices, It seems to have stopped recently. I haven’t seen a shadow person in months since moving into my new house. That still doesn’t stop me from feeling like something’s in the dark when I shut off the lights.