I am 15 now and you may not take me seriously, but these happenings are tearing me apart and no one will believe me, not even my parents.
It all started when I was 5, in my home at Dubai in Jumeirah. I would get this horrible feeling, like something is filling me with fear and suffering, I got scared of these feelings and I would stay up late crying. I never really told anyone, though my grandmother, mom, and dad saw me like this. I was so scared I would follow my mom anywhere, when she planned on going for a midnight snack, I could have sworn, from the side of my eye, I saw a solid figure of a man, bald looking in a black suit holding a rifle and shooting it out from the window on our 2nd floor. I was terrified; my mom said it was only my imagination.
Another time is when I saw a white fog like woman simply taking form as she slowly fell from my bedroom ceiling, As soon as I could see the head shape I turned to my mother, and the frame from the bed, I saw 2 green eyes staring at me, I looked back to the girl, and she was crawling on the bed, and I hid under the blankets too scared to do anything else, but I did not sense anything evil about that night, it was so clam, but I am certain it was not a dream, I could remember feeling the fuzz on the blanket, the TV channel illuminating the numbers for a channel, nothing was missing, and it was not a dream.
I would always whine after that experience, and my mother got fed up of me, and told me if I wanted something from the kitchen which was downstairs, I had to get it myself. I decided to muster up all the courage I had to go by myself for the first time.
I am uncertain if this did happen, because I don't remember being scared and hiding under my blanket, but I went downstairs, at the bottom of the steps you could continue 5 feet and reach the door, or take 4 feet and turn right, the door was on the wall just like the stairs, and I heard scratching that reminded me of my aunts little dog, but it was not on the bottom half of that door, it was on the very top, I stood there for almost a minute, I opened the door, nothing, and on the ceiling was something that kind of had a bear like body, but was with feet and arms like a dog, it had no fur and was brown, just a little darker than cardboard used for boxes, that thing was running upside down attacked on the ceiling, I don't know why but I should have been dead, I took forever to get out and close that door.
We moved from the house after my grandfather had died from a cause I do not know. But something is still keeping an eye on me, I can feel it, and I am sure of it, because I was scared of something pointless, a panda carrying a closed fresh corn the size of the panda itself, it was not even bigger than your thumb, but I would see it anywhere and everywhere, and it was like someone has been purposely moving it. I would never pack that thing and take it to this new house I am in, NEVER. But somehow it is here in glass china that is filled with alcoholic drinks. I keep seeing it change, the left side and tomorrow the right, but something is telling me not to dare throw it out. I've touched it millions of times, but always kept it in that glass cupboard. But I felt like throwing up when I saw it, but I still moved it. I did not get sick, but maybe you have also heard something like I have, if you try lying down and your ear starts making this high pitched noise, in war movies when they lose hearing they usually play it. (Beeeeee...) I was stuck like that for almost 4 hours, up until now I have never touched it again; it is maybe 1 year...
I had many other experiences but I am not 100% sure these where real, I have no memory of seeing them in perfect detail, nor do I remember everything.
I still have that feeling, where I need to go back to the past where I have seen this man with his rifle, I am so eager to see if he is the one with those green eyes, and these poems pop in my head, I know many of them, I don't know how they come in me, but if I remember correctly, when he was holding his rifle, scoping out the window, he had a leather notebook beside him, on top a pen with only few bullets that almost look like they were made of paper.
I believe deep down, he is a protector and not evil, I got many anti-war poems that were maybe demanded for me to write them down, and try to re define how he lived.