This is one of the earliest memories I had. When I was a small boy, my father used to take me around with him whenever he paid a girlfriend a visit. It's sleazy I know; he would just leave me alone while he engaged in sexual relations with this woman or that woman. On this occasion, he was paying a visit to an old girlfriend. He left me outside of the house to pretty much me fend for myself.
Anyway, as I was playing around the yard, I suddenly ran into a little boy. He was slightly older than me, with dark hair. He asked me if I wanted to play and I said yes. I was lonely and didn't know when my dad would be done. So the boy and I started chasing each other around the yard.
I distinctly remember that there were times when the boy seemed to just disappear. I would turn a corner immediately after him and he would be gone. All of a sudden he would pop up behind me. Keep in mind this was a well manicured yard with very few places to hide.
Eventually, I wound up chasing him into the house. He ducked into a bedroom and I followed him in. I noticed that he ducked behind the one bed in the room. I couldn't see him but I knew he was there. For some reason, I suddenly got very excitable. I started to grab things off of shelves around the room and throw them at the bed. Every time I did, the boy would pop up and laugh, and then disappear behind the bed again. At this point, I was making quite a mess in the room but didn't seem to care because I was having an insane amount of fun. I also really, really wanted to hit the boy with something. At least, that's how it seemed.
There was a grey doll house in the room. It was beautiful and ornate, intricately designed and fragile. It was the last thing I grabbed and I hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, and the pieces landed behind the bed. The boy didn't pop up this time though.
Well, I guess I must of made quite the ruckus because my father and his "friend" came storming into the room. When the lady saw the mess she was astronomically pissed, and asked what I was doing. I tried to explain that I was playing with the boy (I'm sorry; I just can't remember his name). To my surprise, she asked "What boy?"
Now this was a small bedroom and I had this kid cornered. There was no way for him to get out of there with out my noticing. And when my dad and his friend came in, they would've noticed the boy slipping out. My dad checked the room, under the bed, everywhere. The boy wasn't there.
This lady demanded that my father leave. I couldn't blame her. I had just destroyed her place. I'll never understand why I felt the need to hit this kid just that I was overwhelmed with the sensation that it was the right thing to do at the time. Now, I don't know how many of you have had an experience like this, but it's stayed with me my entire life, and only recently has it begun to sink in that this whole experience was quite possibly paranormal. I do believe that as children we are more susceptible to these kinds of events. Was this boy a ghost that wanted to get me in trouble for some reason? I don't think I'll ever know the answer to that.