When I was little, about two or three, and we moved out of the city, my parents and I moved to a plot of land that my grandparents (farmers) owned.
The only way this will make sense is if I describe what the place looked like. We were right beside the main highway. Our backyard was huge. Surrounded by trees, so to a small child, it was like an entire kingdom. When you drive in down the road to our house, there are two paths. One splits off to a shop that my grandpa kept his tractors in. The shop also had a little office in it. During the winter we kept my dog and our two cats in the shop and office. To the left of the shop was a large empty field. Sometimes it had grain growing from it. The other path went up a small hill and that led to my house. On both sides of the house, there were trees. One side had an old truck that hadn't started in years. Remember that truck. Behind the house was just an empty area of grass, a few old and falling down buildings, and some more patches of trees. There are more details, but for now, that's really all you need to know.
During the first year, I kept finding little arrowheads. A few times I found grinding stones. I'm pretty confident that our house was built on top a First Nations village, or something related to that. I never really looked into it. Around that time I started having dreams. Those dreams lasted for a few years. They weren't every night, but they were the exact same every time.
I always dreamed of a small village with first nations all over. At first, it was fine. Everybody was happy. Then, I blinked and everything was on fire. People were screaming, children were crying, and one man in what looked like a western outfit was walking straight through the middle. I couldn't make out a face, it seemed like he was a living shadow. He'd walk up to me, and right when he was about to say something I'd wake up. Keep in mind I was pretty little when this was happening, so I didn't understand what was going on. Mom didn't know either when I told her about it. She saged the place and moved on. It didn't affect anything.
Once, I was playing outside with my dog when I saw a man standing in the field by the shop. The same man from my dreams. I've never gone into the fields since I saw him. He just seemed to radiate pure evil. I've seen small children walk through the trees, the old truck that hasn't started in years turned on when I walked by it once. I had an imaginary friend once who resembled a middle aged woman in a light yellow dress. I found out years later that my imaginary friend looked exactly like my dad's mum.
Those were pretty small compared to one night. I was about 7, maybe 8. It was around 10 and I was just falling asleep. Then, it almost seemed like a heavy weight was set on my body. Breathing was difficult, I couldn't move, and my room seemed incredibly dark, even though the hallway lights were on. One corner was pitch black. The hallway lights should have illuminated it, but it didn't. Then I heard a voice. Dark, menacing, and kept repeating get out. I was crying, kept trying to say "but I live here, this is my room" but I couldn't. I don't remember how it ended. I probably fell asleep. I told mom, and she didn't say much. I found out years after she had the place blessed. I haven't heard the voice since. Please note I don't have any sleeping problems. I did have an active imagination, but I don't think even my small mind would imagine that.
There are tons more experiences, and I'll publish those at a later date. Some I don't know if are true. I really don't know what to make of a lot of this. Any ideas would be incredibly appreciated.