This story happened to me over the span of about 5 years, starting back in 1999 during my second year of middle school and ending near my 18th birthday. Before I begin, I’d like to apologize for the length of this story, as it really means a lot to me and I feel that I need to spend some time explaining all of the details. Now I’ve never been one to believe in ghosts and spirits and all that. Even now, I find it very hard to place my trust in the supposed paranormal encounters that I hear from time to time. However, these events that I’m about to share changed my life forever, and I will never think about life and death the same way again.
The story starts when I was 12 years old and attending 7th grade in Black Forest Colorado. I didn’t have many friends at the time because I was new to the area, and I was also a bit shy. I can’t even recall who I was friends with back then. However, I remember very clearly the day that I met her. She was a tall blonde girl who always had this sad and confused look in her eyes. Her name was Allie. I had seen her around the school before, and I knew that there was something a little off about her, like she had some kind of mental disability or something. Whenever I saw her she was always sitting somewhere by herself and drawing in her notebook.
People would make fun of her all the time because she was so quiet, like she literally never said a word to anyone. Ever. I actually thought that she might have been mute. It wasn’t until about half way through the semester when I noticed her standing near the school entrance, clutching her notebooks tightly to her chests, and looking as though she was about to cry. A few kids were holding up a picture that she had drawn, waving it around in the air while taunting her like a bunch of entitled assholes with nothing better to do than to humiliate this poor girl.
Read more “Homesick”
First let me say that this story is going to be really difficult for me to tell. However, after spending some time thinking it over I thought that maybe getting it out there will help me deal with what happened and maybe help someone else. This is completely true and I will do my best to give as much detail as possible. Because of how terrorized I was I think I blocked a lot of it out even though it was something that happened within this past year.
Even as a kid I always had very vivid dreams. I often had lucid dreams (those were my favorite) as once I knew I loved the freedom of making choices without consequence. As I got older, those lucid dreams would leave to some of the best sex dreams ever. I mention this because it may be important later. I used to talk in my sleep a bit (based on what my parents have told me) but have never sleepwalked nor had any other sleep issues. I did have chronic nightmares but that’s a different story entirely. But I thought having that information may help you understand why, what I am about to describe to you was so different, and so horrifying.
I was a freshman in college when I had my very first “sleep paralysis” type dream. I use that term loosely as I am not really sure how to categorize what I experienced. I had been studying on my bed, room light on, sitting with my back against the wall. I don’t know when I fell asleep but I do remember waking up. At least I thought I was awake. I opened my eyes, noticed the books on my lap and heard a knock or something on my door. I got up to get it and then I woke up. This continued for about 4 or 5 times each time with me becoming more and more panicked. The very last time I woke up in my dream I started to hear voices. They were very mumbled, starting off quietly and continuously getting louder and louder. All I kept hearing was different voices yelling their name and a date. I couldn’t keep up with them all and it was starting to make my head hurt. I remember putting my heads up, squeezing my head, and trying to get off my bed and away from the voices. The pain was so intense I could barely crawl on the floor as I tried to make it 10 feet across the dorm room and to the door. When I thought the voices were going to make my head explode, I finally woke up for real. I was still in the same place with my back against the wall and books on my lap. I was actually nervous I was still asleep. I immediately started to cry and called my dad. I told him I thought I was going crazy. He said that I probably wasn’t sleeping well and before I voluntarily submitted myself to a psych ward that maybe it would be a good idea to just try and get a few good nights sleep. I must have listened because I never had the experience again. I sometimes wished I could have remembered the names and dates I heard but the pain was too intense to allow me to focus. I wasn’t going to include this part of my dream history but upon sitting down to write this thought maybe it could be related.
Read more “Dream Visitor”
My name is Danielle, I’m nineteen, and I have a bizarre story that began with a dream. This was a dream I had a few months ago, so unfortunately it’s a bit vague, but the details that stuck with me are perplexing.
In this dream, I was in a house I’d never seen before. To be forthright, I wasn’t even sure if I was me; I sometimes have dreams where I am seeing from the perspective of someone else. I am seeing with their eyes as if I were them, so I only know which perspective I’m seeing from if I distinctly remember when I wake up, or if I did something in the dream or acted in a way that was out of character. Although, even if I was myself, I had a different life–I was surrounded by friends and family that looked vaguely familiar, but I remember thinking to myself as I was dreaming that I didn’t really know them. But my Dream Self acted as though all was normal.
I was in the kitchen, which was located at the back of the house, sitting at a table, having a friendly conversation with a guy around my age. I took in my surroundings as we talked, gazing upon white walls and cabinets and a black and white checkered floor. At one point I went to grab something from the living room, which was through an entryway to the left of the kitchen.
Read more “My Dream House”