When I was just a young child of twelve years old I lived with my father and stepmother. This was the age where my dad and stepmom decided that I needed household responsibilities such as cleaning my room and the kitchen and a few others around and outside of the house.
Well I never really took to my new found responsibilities too well. I had so many better things to do, video games being the most important. This got me in trouble a lot so I had a personal resolve to work harder and actually maintain my suites duties and be a great son.
Now just to give a little background about my house, let me start by saying it was in a normal suburban American neighborhood. White fence blue collar average American home. Most importantly it was built brand new. Also this is an area where nothing really happens. It was just plain and boring and normal.
Well the keyword there is "was." I was home alone and with my newfound resolve I woke up ate and watched a TV show then I decided it's time to start my housework and where better to start than with the chore I dreaded above all others... The dishes. So I walk, determined, into my kitchen and turn on the faucet to start when I hear a scratching noise. I couldn't really pinpoint where it came from but I just thought oh a mouse well let's find it.
Little did I know I was about to have my first paranormal run in. I search the kitchen high and low for the mousey pest but nothing came of it. So I walk towards the living room. As I am about to cross into the living room I get a strong gut feeling to stop and just peek in it.
As I am peeking in the living room I feel two tiny child-like fingers press against my lower back as if to get my attention. I turn quick to find nothing was there of course. Now I was really really freaked out. So my natural defense is to turn on all the lights and hide in my room.
My parents come home to this find me in my room but the didn't knock on my door, they just came in and I nearly jumped out of my skin. My dad laughs and laughs but sees the pure terror on my face.
Later that night they call me into their room and me, still being afraid, is looking around everywhere for something "spooky." They look at me and say, "Brandon, have you been using drugs?" I give them a look like no? So I say, "No I'm not on drugs." (I'm twelve of course I'm not on drugs) so they say okay what is wrong then. I was very hesitant to tell them but eventually caved and did. I was expecting to be ridiculed or laughed at but then my dad smiled and told me, "It's happened to me twice, son. Both times I had just got done praying and maybe it's god trying to speak to you."
Well I still to this day don't have an explanation why or what but if god is trying to speak to me then I guess his message was "Don't do the dishes".