When I was 4 years old I had my first paranormal experience. I was playing around in the cafe which my mother and father were running at the time. We heard a ring and my mum picked up the phone. She stood as still as still could be and began to cry. I had no idea what it was about at the time but I later found out that my Grandfather died.
My mother felt guilty because she was never around the last few years of his life so she decided to fly us to the Philippines. She could have taken both my brothers too but I was the only grandson of his that he has never met.
It's tradition in the Philippines to keep the coffin and the body overnight at the family home before parting with it. Morning came and I distinctly remember the open casket and palish face of my Granddad. I never met him or spoke to him so I never had a real emotional attachment to him. I felt quite numb but of course I felt something. That's something you cannot avoid when it comes to the loss of a life. My family told me to kiss his cheeks before sending him down but I was simply too scared. I have never been around a dead body before.
Later that night the family all joined together to talk about all the memories they had of my Granddad when he was younger. My mother said I was very quite throughout the whole trip because I was a shy kid and I didn't know how to talk their native language and she pointed out that one of the very few times I would say something by myself was that night when I stood up and asked everybody who the man walking next to us was. She said that I kept pointing that person out but none of the other family members could see it. They all went quite and begun to wonder if it was my Grandfather saying one last goodbye. My mother said he was more likely to present himself to me because I have never got to meet him before.
When we returned to Portugal my mother said I was paranoid of every little noise I could hear. She said I hated the darkness, especially dark corners, and I would always point out that the curtains moved or the door would open by itself. She said I was never like this until I returned from the Philippines.
As the months went by I had a few more experiences with seeing stuff but the two that are the most profound and terrifying to me was the time I heard a very deep voice talking to me from up the chimney. I don't remember what it was saying but I felt fearful.
One year later I was playing in my Mother and Father's room (it was my play room at the time too). I remember sitting on the floor and all of a sudden I had the uncontrollable urge to look towards the closet beside me. This closet is very dark, spacious and old. It is a type of walk-in closet built into the wall. I stared into it as the chills ran down my spine. I was feeling very scared and weak by now. It felt like I had no strength left in me and that all there was left for me was to just keep staring. I don't remember exactly how it began but from my memory I can recall being dragged into the closet. I tried to fight it but I was like a puppet, dragged against my own will. The closet doors closed and I was left in darkness. I was scared of leaving and scared to stay. I managed to come up with the courage to move and that is all I remember from that particular experience.
I don't remember experiencing anything else in that house after that. I would always look over my back just to see if I could see anything but I was just scaring myself.
When I was 7 years old I moved to England and nothing. The air felt right! When I feel like I'm about to experience something paranormal, something about the air doesn't feel right. It's not the temperature for me. It's something else, something unexplainable.
When I was 17 years old I bought a drum kit. I played on it for a few minutes in the living room and I got this familiar feeling, where my whole attention gets focused on one thing and I MUST look. So I looked... And to my right was a pale face, with blackened eyes and an open mouth staring at me through the window. It was dark outside so I could not see a figure, just the face, the rest would fade to black. By the time it took me to drop my drum sticks, jump like a girl and focus back on the window it had disappeared. I never played drums in that living room again.
Now I have returned to Portugal at the age of 23 and just last week I had this strange feeling again in the kitchen. I was clearing up after having a late night snack and I felt something make a jingling sound, and I realised that my belt had become undone and was hanging down my legs. I rushed to the bin with a napkin in my hand and threw it in there. I left towards the door and I feel something soft under my feet. I move my feet aside and notice that it is the exact same napkin that I threw away just seconds ago. I remember it because of the sauce I had on it and the way I folded it! There's no way it was another napkin.
On another night I heard footsteps through the hallway. It sounded like whatever was pacing through there was walking barefoot.
I wrote down all my experiences just in case any one could tell me if this is all related? Or just random encounters.
If anyone could give me any idea to what is going on I would really appreciate it. Thank you for reading.