Honestly, I’ve had a lot of creepy stuff happen to me throughout my lifetime, but this is the first instance which I can remember really well.
I was somewhere between the age of 3 and 5. I just know that I wasn’t in school yet because I never went to headstart or preschool. I had begged my grandmother to buy me this package of plastic bugs at the store for a dollar when we had gone grocery shopping that day. This was a big deal because we lived an hour’s drive away from town, so we only went once a week. That night I wanted to open them right away, but my grandma wouldn’t let me because of something I had done to misbehave. She put them at the very back of the kitchen vou ter. Out of my reach. I ended up going to bed without getting to open them.
I woke up in the middle of the night, which was unusual, because I am one of those people that you can’t wake with a brass marching band. I decided that I was going to go to the kitchen and get my plastic bugs. They were cheap little things that were one color each with no detail. I grabbed my stool and climbed up on it, grabbing the package triumphantly. I tried to open the package carefully; but it ended up ripping wide, sending plastic bugs flying all over.
I started picking them up and after about the fifth one, I felt something tickling my hand. I opened my hand to find that I was holding real bugs. I suppressed a scream and dropped them hurriedly. I looked around in terror as the other bugs came to life as well. They scurried away to hide, and I crept back to my room as fast as I dared.
I went back to sleep after my heart had calmed down. My grandma woke me up the next morning, demanding to know what I had done with the bugs. I had left the stool in the kitchen in my panic. I told her what had happened, but she didn’t believe me. She made me show her all my hiding places in my room and in the front room, but the bugs were nowhere to be found. She grounded me for the weekend from tv.
Several nights later, I woke up because something was tickling my arm. I sat up and let my eyes adjust. Seeing a bug crawling on me, I hastily brushed it off. I then turned on the lamp by my bed and proceeded to scream bloody murder when I saw the wall behind my headboard. It was covered with the rest of the bugs from the package. My grandparents rushed into the room and proceeded to pick the bugs off the wall with tissue. My grandma comforted me as I babbled incoherently about telling the truth while my grandpa threw the now squished bugs in the trash and took it out to the dumspter.
The next morning my grandma apologized for not believing me. I told her it was okay, and she ungrounded me. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning, but those stories are for another time.