It's hard to pick one story to share with someone, or many people. I have decided to take the advice of my "adoptive" mother. In my life there have been many things that have scared the living hell out of me. This happened when I was ten, in Kansas City Missouri, in the home of my parents.
I was getting ready for bed, and kept feeling like someone was watching. Of course it scared me, but I had that feeling before. So I went on with my routine, brushed my teeth, my hair and grabbed a book to look at while I was falling asleep. All the while, the same feeling that I was being watched and that someone wanted to hurt me. I decided after a few minutes of freaking out and searching around my room to turn all my dolls and stuffed animals around so they wouldn't look at me. That I would just turn out the light and go to bed.
Since I was still pretty scared I kept on a light on my desk. I laid there for a while wondering, thinking that this was a joke my younger brother was trying to play on me. Just when I was ready to shut my eyes the closet door opened. Honestly I am still afraid of open closets in a dark or mostly dark room. I watched as this thing came towards me, sat down on the bed and just looked down at me. He, and I use "HE" because that was the feeling I got from him, mean, cruel, dark shadow. I wanted to cry, as I felt him sit on my feet. I felt the whole body weight of someone on me. For a minute or two he just sat there on my feet looking around, turning his head this way and that, then finally looking down at me. I couldn't breath, I couldn't yell, cry, I couldn't even move. Every bone and muscle in my body betrayed me.
I tried to close my eyes, just to move something in me to move. To get up. He slowly reached out for me. Reaching for my face. I felt cold on my chin and then on my neck. Then nothing. He disappeared just as quickly and as quietly as he came. I sat for a minute and cried like a baby. Then ran to my parents room to tell them what I had just witnessed, my mother just looked at me and told me not to say anything to anyone.
This is one experience in my life. I am slowly learning to live with what I see, hear and feel. But it's hard. Because I don't understand what I am supposed to do. I can't ignore these things in my life, but I can't devote my life to them.
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As I said in another post - this may not have been a dream, stress can affect your perception and memory of a traumatic event. You could have been victim of some kind of abuse from a male in the house. Unfortunately in some cases another parent may know and yet be unable to help due to feelings for the other person or whatever. I hope this isn't the case but you never know!