I am new to this site but not to the paranormal exactly. I grew up in a beautiful old house built in 1900 in Riverhead of Long Island, NY. My first memories, at least what I think are my first - hard to tell, are of being absolutely terrified of my closet. Every night before I went to bed, I made sure the door was shut. Not really knowing why it should be shut, I still made sure either I closed it, when I was old enough, or my parents did before I went to sleep. And sure enough, in the morning the door would be wide open. It was a small closet, due to the period the house was built in, and it had a beautiful clear glass faceted door knob. I also made sure I had a night light on before I went to bed. However, I remember being so young that I was looking out through the bars of my crib at the closet, frozen in fear. Sometimes I felt paralyzed and felt like there was something heavy on my chest pinning me down to the bed. It would eventually release me and I would scream for my mom and dad. Sometimes, I was completely unable to scream. After I was not being held down, I would sit up and try to scream but nothing would come out. I would try over and over again until I finally was able muster some kind of noise. This happened regularly.
While I was still sleeping in my crib, I remember my parents sleeping on my floor. I remember watching them sleep and feeling safe to sleep myself. But, if I woke up and the blankets were there but they weren't, I would be terrified. I also recall seeing a black mass sort of hovering in my closet. I always felt uneasy in that house. We lived there for 13 years. I hear noises. I always made sure I turned on the light in the next room before I turned off the light in the one I was in so I would never be in the dark. I guess I just kind of dealt with it.
Then, one evening when I was about 11, I was downstairs at night in the kitchen bringing up tea for my mom and dad in their bedroom. I did my usual light on light off routine, of course. Upon entering the hallway to go upstairs, I looked up to see the beautiful head of a girl with very curly hair. She was very sparkly, semi transparent and seemed to be outlined in gold. It was only her head hovering in front and above me. She looked a little bit older than I was then. I just stood there, frozen. She just sort of smiled at me then disappeared upon which I ran up the stairs, spilling tea all over the place, to tell my parents what I just saw. I did and they didn't seem too surprised, they just kind of said that it was cool and what did she look like etc then we dropped it. I never saw her again.
Even when I moved on to a big girl bed, I was still plagued by nightmares, fears of the dark, the activity of my closet, not being able to scream in the middle of the night and seeing the dark shadow in my room. For some reason I could never express what I was seeing until I was older and the activity or my ability to see things often had dissipated. When I was about nine or ten I moved on to an antique wooden bed that was inscribed Mary Todd Lincoln on the bottom. Twice, I woke up in the middle of tossing and turning to end up on the floor.
My family and I moved to another town when I was thirteen. Our neighborhood of nice families and sweet little old ladies spiraled into a ghetto and we left. We were unable to sell our home and it foreclosed. Some time after leaving, we found out that the previous owner was a doctor by the last name of Wilson. My room was his son's room, who committed suicide by hanging himself in my closet. My dad also told me recently that once while we were living in our Riverhead home, he was alone in the house doing the dishes when he was struck in the back by a fork.
I am currently in the process of finding out more details about Dr Wilson and his son. It has proven to be difficult! I can't find anything about either of them online.
I'm now 27 and have had the odd feeling and noises here and there but nothing as dramatic as when I was a little girl.
Has anyone had success pertaining to extensive research of death records of an unrelated person? I realize I might have to go to the county center or library to investigate old microfilm. Any tips would be greatly appreciated!
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