When I was in my late teens I was living in my family's home in Warren, MI which is a suburb of Detroit. I came home late one night, around midnight, and parked my car in the detached garage in back of our house. As usual, I rolled down the garage door and locked it. After exiting the garage I faced the garage's entry/exit door and locked it as well. I'm not a person who is scared of the dark and I definitely don't frighten easily. As I turned around to walk into my backyard so I could get in the house, I bumped into what I thought was a person. It was big enough and solid enough to be. My first thought was that someone was in my backyard and I ran into them possibly trying to break into the garage. Instinctively, I pushed back but no longer felt a solid body. I ran to my back door where I watched the backyard while trying to put the key in the door (which is a pain when you're scared). We had a small yard that was surrounded by a privacy fence which would make it more difficult for a person to get in or out of quickly. I never saw a person or heard a noise.
What scared me so much was that I could FEEL the solid body. Have you turned around and someone was standing behind you and you walked right into them? That is exactly what I felt. The impact was enough to knock me back a step. It probably wouldn't have shook me up so much if it actually was a person. At least I could explain it. I eventually got into the house and told my parents.
This is the same house where I frequently heard my name being called at all hours of the day and night. It wasn't just my name that was called, it was my nickname that only my close family calls me. There are many times that I thought my mom was calling out to me because I was up late watching TV or she had come home early and needed my help carrying in groceries. Every time I checked there was either no one home or the whole family was asleep. Years later I found that both of my parents had experienced their names being called too.
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