As a little boy I've always been attracted to spiritual things. I would tell my mom of things I see or hear. Or ask if I could sleep with her because something was wrong in my room. I would say "it's evil." I would cry sometimes because I was scared. I remember being so terrified, I can't really remember why though. I remember my room being really dark. Seeing dark things, and stuff at my window. Hearing whispers. Little did I know.
I didn't know my family had a history of this sort of stuff. Well at least my mothers side. My grandmother Elaine is extremely spiritual and whenever I have a problem, I go to her for advice and prayers. It started around puberty. My mother, brother, and I lived in an apartment right in Austin, with our roomate Emy. She worked with my mother, and was a close friend. I remember watching "The Hills" one night in the living room with my brother. It was getting late and my brother fell asleep. I was going to wait for the episode to end when this little baby candle we had on the kitchen counter started to flicker. We had never turned it on. It was just for decoration. I got a little scared. I turned the tv off, and carried my brother to my bed. I didn't close the door to my room, and from my bed I could still see the little candle trying to turn on. I envied my brother for being asleep. In the morning I checked the candle. No melted wax, burnt wick. Nothing.
My brother and I would always hear things. We would hear scratches on the walls, and our cat would go crazy sometimes. It eventually ran away. We moved to another apartment. Same complex, same things happening. Then we moved to a whole other complex. Things got more weird.
I remember one day my brother and I were home alone. I was 13, he was 6. We would always play, chase each other, and play the gamecube. Is was just like any ordinary day, we were playing and I chased him into the hall with a shoe. He went into my moms room, and I waited for him outside the door, because the minute he opened it, I would throw the shoe at him. I saw the doorknob turning, got my shoe ready, and the door opened slowly. I threw my shoe. And nothing. I had waited 10 minutes, and I expected him to jump out at me. I went into my moms room and heard him taking a bath. I went in and asked him how he opened the door. He told me he never opened it. He said he went straight to the bathroom when he came in. I explained to him what happened, and he told me to shut up. But he saw my confused expression and got scared. I waited for him to dry and change, and we went to my room.
We waited for my mom to get home and we were playing the gamecube, when Emy's door flew open. Whenever my door was open you could see hers perfectly. We got so scared. I called my mom and told her to hurry. When she got home we explained to her, and she shrugged it off.
Things got worse. I could hear voices. When I was alone by myself I could hear my mom, or brother call my name. No one else was in the house. One night I was going to bed, when I saw the hall light turn on. I knew it was on because I could see the light from the bottom crack of the door. Then I heard my dog Carmelo running around the apartment. I could hear his feet on the carpet, and his tags jingling. As if he were running so fast. Kind of like he did after I gave him a bath. Then I was about to open my door, when he started scratching on my door. I found that kind of odd. So I waited. The scratches got more violent. My door started shaking. The hall light started turning on and off. My room walls were connected to the living room. So I could hearing anything in the living room from my room. I heard the switches violently turning on and on. Then the scratches were on the wall from the living room. The same wall my bed rested against. But they were coming from the other side. I started crying. I called my mom. She came out and everything stopped. The light stayed on.
I told her what happened. Surprisingly, Carmelo had been in her room asleep. I went to sleep in her room. I felt so safe.
After that I would her the kitchen sink turn on. Always at 12:00am. I would feel somebody touch me in the bathroom. Hear my name. When I would be in the bathroom, the doorknob would turn violently. Like someone trying to get in. Or scare me. But no one would be home. I would brush my teeth in the mornings without the light on because of my room window. The light would turn on by itself. One night I spent the night at my dads. My siblings knew nothing of ghosts, or anything. The next morning my sister seemed quiet. Distant. My dad is an alcoholic, so I asked her if anything was wrong. She said she didn't want to tell me. I told her she could tell me anything. She told me a dark figure was watching me sleep. He was pitch black... He was just a black mass. She said it looked right at her. She was on another bed with my other brother. She told me she tried to act asleep. But that it watched me for a long time. That really freaked me out. I was so scared.
A little after that my mom, brother, and I moved again. We stayed in the same complex just a different apartment. Just like before. The scary stuff stopped. I tried bringing it up to my mom. Usually she would say I'm dumb, or I need to be quiet. But she told me she heard people in the kitchen, having conversations. She said the cabinets would fly open. She said she just wanted me to ignore them. Like she has. My mom has always been able to see and hear the dead. She's had many experiences. But she was too scared. She couldn't take it anymore, ignored them, and they stopped. She had me at 15, and they had always been around her, but she ignored them and they stopped when she was around 20. She was 25 when she told me this. I knew she had a gift.
She told me when I was in 6th grade about her grandmothers house in Del Rio, Texas. It used to be a prostition house back in the 1950's. Soldiers would come, have sex, gamble. I've heard so many stories. From the naked lady without a face, the crying babies, the people in the rooms. My mom's dad thought there was money buried around the house. My mom told me they found a baby's skeleton. If the prostitutes got pregnant, they would have to kill their babies. My mom told me you could walk into a room, and you could hear people laughing, coins jingling. And a harsh women's voice telling other women to be quiet. Or "Shhhhh." My mom told me one night her sister and herself spent the night. The ghosts pulled their feet, pulled out clothes from a dresser, opened and slammed cabinets, pulled off the sheets, and my mom told them to "Stop." She started praying. They got angry. My mom told me she ran and turned on the lights. Everything stopped. My aunt was crying, and never wanted to go back.
I've always had visions. During all my ecounters, when I was young. My dreams were my visions. They always came true. I would tell my mom about a dream. Days later we were living it. She had scary experiences with the dead. I think when my ecounters got bad, and going through puberty, was when I was supposed to start seeing them. But my mom made me ignore it. She didn't want me seeing the ugly things she did. They left me alone also. I still have my visions. But the ghosts have found a new way to interact. My dreams. In my dreams I'm someone else. I'm seeing what they did. One example was this young woman not too long ago. I was walking around as her. Nice house. Reddish maroon walls. Wood accents. Then I went into her bathroom. Saw myself. Layered brown hair. Pretty eyes. Pretty girl. Then the tub was full. I stepped in the tub. Completely submerged. And I woke up. I know she drowned herself.
These have kind if stopped. I couldn't sleep. I would wake up at 2:58. Everytime. I told my grandma, she showed me some prayers. I told my mom. For about a month I couldn't sleep. And would have those lucid dreams. They would drain me. My mom couldn't sleep around the same time. She said at my stepdads house a spirit kept waking her up at 3. She ignored it. Our ecounters both stopped around the same time. I didn't like mine and neither did she. So we ignored it, and prayed. I haven't had a vision very recently. I've had those encounters. But now nothing. Even before the ecounters my balance was off. I'm usually good at reading people. Like how they feel and what they're thinking. I want to be a psychologist, and reading people and stuff was helpful. Now I can't really do it like I used to. But anyway, these have been my experiences, and I'm glad to have shared them. I like letting them out:) hope you liked them. Thanks.