posted on Nov, 10 2009 @ 02:50 AM
I remember the first vivid dream of my life. I was a small child living with my mother and I awoke to a presence in the room. I had this dream
multiple times. Each time I would crawl out of bed to exit the room and would notice a creature standing about three feet tall next to the bed. I
would always walk over to it. Get very close and then try to touch it. It reminded me of a puppet. I called it the penguin. When my hand got about as
close as it could go the dream was over. I would wake up the next morning.
Later in my childhood we moved out of our apartment and in with my grandparents and great-grandmother who all lived together. Four generations in one
house. Its some of the happiest and earliest memories of my life. My mother and I stayed upstairs in the east bedroom. We shared a bed. One night when
I was around five, I remember telling my mom that things were walking around in the hallway. She told me never to talk about it.
Eventually my Mother got married, we got our own place and my imagination quieted. That is, until I was around fourteen when I saw a genuine shadow
person standing in the hallway. Later that same year the most terrifying event of my life happened.
My step-sister and I stayed in rooms adjacent to each other. Our house was empty as our parents had gone to a wedding. Sometime in the middle of the
night I was awoken by the sound of a knock on my sister’s door. I assumed it was my parents. I heard no answer from my sister and noticed that there
was no light coming in from under my door, the house was still dark. About 20 seconds after my sisters door, my own door was knocked on three times.
“Mom? … John? …. Karen?” No answer. Just three louder knocks on my sisters door. Followed by three louder knocks on mine. I wondered why
whoever it was didn’t hear me, or didn’t just come in. Then came three of the loudest bangs one could imagine on my sisters door. I could feel the
shaking in my room. By this time I had already gotten up and grabbed an aluminum bat that I had in my closet. I was hiding behind my own door waiting
to jump out and be a “little bad ass” or whatever. And, of course, you guessed it, the banging moved to my door. Inches away from me. I almost
feel it and heard all the objects on my desk and dresser shaking.
I threw open the door, swung, tripped, got up, turned on a light. My sisters door flew open. Pretty much simultaneously I told her someone was in the
house as she asked me what the hell I was doing. I checked all the doors and windows and we lied awake in the same room until we heard our parents
come home. We told them and haven’t talked about it since.
That’s kind of the way it is. Our family just didn’t talk about these things. That is until I was around seventeen. My great grandmother died and
we had to sell the old house. I asked my mother if she ever got the creeps up in the old east bedroom, which I refused to play or stay in unless it
was time to sleep. She informed me that she did. It had been her bedroom in high school but she always felt, at night, like a presence had been
watching her from the hallway. This is why my questions as a young child terrified her.
The east bedroom had also been my grandmother’s room during high school. She (who I’ve never heard before or since talk about such things)
informed us that she was never comfortable up there either and avoided it her entire adult life. More than this, she recounted a story when she was
approximately sixteen. Apparently she awoke to see a pitch dark figure in the room, when it became aware of her presence it tried to “force itself
on her” (her words) and the event ended with her screaming and fighting it off from the corner of the room where it had pinned her. The event ended
when my great-grandmother and great-grandfather had heard her screams, ran up, turned the lights on and found her flailing wildly in the corner - feet
away from the bed.