This is an experience that occurred over several months. In the autumn of 2012 I was home from university one weekend. On the outskirts of my town there is an old graveyard called the Red River Cemetery (in Logan co., Ky). It is very old (the earliest graves are from the 1790s) and associated with an abundance of local history. The Great Revival of 1800 occurred there, the first camp meeting in Christian history. A lot of spiritual activity happened at that event.
This cemetery is a regular spot for me. It is a pleasant drive into the fresh country, and the entire graveyard is surrounded by ancient trees. In the back of the cemetery is a reconstruction of a log church that was once there. You feel as if you are going back in time when you go there. It is serenely silent and still, and there is a nostalgia with all the graves and arrangement of trees.
In the center of the the cemetery is a separate walled graveyard. It is an elaborate family plot, and the old wall dates to the 1830s. There are many graves in there, and one has sunken in and opened (vandalism or natural occurrence?). I walked around the plot for a few moments. I had come here many times before, and nothing strange had ever happened. But this time I had an unpleasant feeling. It wasn't very strong, but I felt that I should get out of this plot. I did so and continued to walk around the cemetery.
Then it started that night. I mostly had insomnia, but I did drift into sleep eventually--the line between the two is blurred, but I definitely know that I was awake most of the night. In lack of a better term, my mind was tormented. Seemingly out of nowhere, my mind burned with the image of these two particular graves in the back of the walled plot. It was scorched in my mind. I had nightmares (when awake) of these two graves, and never could I get my mind off them. It was something I've never experienced before. The thought and image of these graves blared and blared in my mind, and I felt terrified. I knew I was awake, and I was afraid in my own home, I felt I wasn't alone. I covered myself in the middle of my bed with this torturing thought of these two graves. As the night wore on, the thought or nightmare (I cannot recall which), I had a dream of the people buried there. I remember specifically seeing a man, young but I couldn't tell how young, and his face was a blur. He wore brownish-beige clothes, pre-1850ish style. He may have held pale hair, but I can't recall specifically. He was a little heavy-set; not fat, just big. This image is crystal clear in my mind, and in my torment I knew it was one of the people buried in those graves. This incidence was absolutely dreadful.
The next day I was emotionally disturbed. My parents didn't know what to think. If I thought about my experience, I would start to cry. A few odd things happened that can be attributed to coincidence, but nevertheless odd. My dog was barking at nothing. Then the washing machine went crazy and starting moving. The repair man said a part inside had gotten loose. It had never done that nor has it again. Again, this could be coincidence.
Eventually I put it out of my mind. It was disturbing, but I couldn't let it get in the way of my studies. So I carried on with my life.
Then came the spring of 2013. I became curious again about those graves. I wondered, "Just who are buried in those graves?" I thought if I found out, some sort of mystery would be solved or a question would be answered. So I gathered my courage and went back to the cemetery. I found the two graves--they were there. I wrote down the names but misplaced the exact information, but the individuals were two siblings. There was a Jane, and she passed away when she was 28 and had had 3 children. Her brother's name was Chatham. He died when he was 21 or 22 in the 1810s. They were the children of a Kentucky senator--who is also buried nearby--and the site of their old family home is nearby. Nobody special, and I thought little of it.
That very night I woke up at exactly 3:30am. Insomnia again. I had been awake for a few moments, and then my doorknob wiggled. I stared wide-eyed at it for the longest time. It had just wiggled. My first thought is that it was my cat. Sometimes she opens the porch door then tries to open our doors. I prayed to God, "Please let that have been my cat, then I can sleep in peace." I convinced myself it was my cat.
The next morning, my cat was on the porch, and the porch door happened to be locked. Kitty had not snuck in, so I interrogated my mom, dad, and brother. They ardently denied my accusations. They wouldn't do that.
Then the next night came, and I awoke again at 3:30 or 4:30. When I went to bed, my brother who was in the den (right outside my room) was watching tv. But here I was awake again, and I could see the light on in the den under the door. Then my door opened. I heard the doorknob turn, and it slowly opened, about halfway. Then it began to close again, but didn't close all the way. Then there was a flash of light in the den, and it went dark. I stared at it for a while. I thought it was my brother, because I thought he stayed up all night watching his show, and opened my door for some reason. Thus, I wasn't scared, and I got up and closed the door. I attempted to go back to sleep, but was a little bothered.
I asked him about it the next morning. He didn't know what I was talking about, because he swore he went to bed at midnight. And he has no history of sleep walking. I did my usual interrogation and everyone denied it. I was abashed and became frightened. Later that day, I was on the computer and heard my mom scream my name twice, as if from outside, like she needed help. I rushed outside to go to her aid, she was was calmly tending the garden. She looked startled when I got there. "What's wrong?" I asked out of breath. "I heard you scream my name..." She said she never did and looked at my like I was crazy. She thought I was playing a joke on her. She'd never play a joke like this on me.
Since this moment, nothing has happened with the incident. I even went back to the graveyard and got no bad feelings.