In Heidal, Norway
This is different from what you have read of me so far. Because this is the worst of the bunch. The one I have as of yet been too afraid to speak of. To mention, in fear of ridicule and such. Because I do not know what this was. If it was real, or not. If I had to tell you this face to face, I'm not sure I would have been able to. Fear is powerful, and I know fear because of this. But I don't know if it was justified, and that is why I'm sharing this. I need to know if anyone else have been through something like this. I like to think that I am well aware of spirits, but this is something entirely different.
One second life was its usual. The next I believed death was breathing down my neck, and I ran as if my life depended on it. But did it?
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It was the summer of 2014. I had moved back to my home village after spending the past half year working a few hours away. This time I wanted to try Day care. Through an agreement, I was offered to work a full position as an intern of sorts (I do not know the terms in english.) This meant, I worked every day, full days. I was in a bad shape, and so I dreaded it a little, because I did not have the drivers license, and it was a fair walk to get to- and from work. Up the mountain hills, alongside the river. It would take me about an hour and a half. And most of the walk was on roads of forestry on either side.
Usually it was nice. I was often out of breath, and I do believe I have never been so tired as I was after a long day with energetic children, and such a walk home. But after two and a half months I had gotten in better shape, and I surely enjoyed it a lot more. I walked faster. Breathed easier.
There was a man, older and bald with a sixpence on his head, and usually a walking stick of some kind. A staff would be a better description. Every day, always in the same time, he'd be out on his walk, and we'd pass each other on the first little stretch after the uphill road. We'd always smile. Nod. Greet each other silently, and keep walking.
But this day I never met him where we usually would. I noticed it, as if the local guy down at the gas station wasn't there anymore, you know? So anyways, I kept walking. Everything else was perfect. The birds were singing, the weather was surprisingly warm, no winds, no clouds, and the brightest sun I had seen in a good while, and I felt so good. I still remember the beauty of the sun rays glistening through the trees and lighting up the dirt road I was walking on. So incredibly beautiful. If I ever felt at peace or in one with my surroundings, it would have been then.
That is why I find it so hard to believe that I could have imagined this. How could I jump so quickly from one state of mind, into an entirely different state of mind without any reason?
I walked, enjoyed this scenery in front of me, listening to those funny little birds singing to each other, probably warning others about me, I wondered. And then it happened. What caught my attention was the snapping of a branch. I don't understand. I mean... I think it was a branch. It sounded like one had snapped. But can't be sure. All I know is there was a sound so abruptly and loud and close by it stumped me and I stopped.
I turned to see what it was, and what I saw... I don't know. The trees stood about two to three meters apart, the sun was shining on them, their naked stems by the ditch of the road. And there it was. Sticking out on the left side of one tree, lasting all the way behind them to the outside of the other tree, with nothing but blackness inside it. I had never seen dark like that. The sun didn't touch it, even though the rays were aligned into it without any kind of obstruction. It was so tall I couldn't have touched the top of it if I had tried. There was no pause of its being. No way to see through it. No details to find. No eyes. No limbs. No head. No mouth. It was just... The closest I have ever gotten to feeling the slightest okay with describing this thing, is a black hole. And yes, I have gone through the entire arsenal of animals that could possibly have residence in these woods, and I assure you that I have not seen anything, heard anything remotely looking like this. A black hole. Clear edged yet a little ruggedly round, and so massive.
I remember being frozen. Not frozen like I was when I was thirteen and had my first experience. No. This time was different. This time, I was mentally frozen. My body just acted. I could barely take a breath and it can't have been more than a second from when I saw it until I started running, but by then my eyes were already wet and my chest hurt. I barely remember the run. Just the fear I had. This incredibly paralyzing fear. This certainty that this was it. There was still a good stretch of road before even glancing my home, but I ran faster than before, undoubtedly because of the adrenalin. I never looked back. I just ran, all the way home without ever wanting to look back, because it felt like it was right there. Just... There. Not running or walking but just there behind me.
I ran down my driveway, prayed my father hadn't locked the door. I took the three stairsteps in one jump and I tore the door open and slammed it shut so hard behind me that I was almost sure the door would just fall off the hinges. I locked it the second it had shut, and I ran into the living room. I ran to the couch, and I couldn't breath. I was afraid to make any sounds. I was afraid to move. Tears were just pouring down my face and could not keep one single clear thought in my head. It was just that fear, that dread. I was alone. My brother wasn't there. My dad hadn't come home from work. I was alone. I was alone and I thought this was it. Perhaps the thing was imaginary, but the fear was not.
I still had to see. I always had to see. Figure out things, find the answers. I had to see if it was there. I could just look out the window facing my driveway and I would know if it had followed me or not, I thought. So I walked over to window and I peeked outside. I couldn't see it. It wasn't there.
I didn't leave the house again that day. I didn't tell anyone. I was cooped up inside my room, curtains closed, doors locked, all lights on, phone in my hand. I didn't know what to do. All I could think about was that thing, and that I had to walk that very same road the next morning. And then later that day. And so on for the next two weeks I had left of my work in the daycare. I couldn't just call in sick because I was afraid.
So I laid awake that entire night, dreading, crying, shaking, staying far away from the windows.
Then morning came and my alarm sounded. I packed my bag, and put my jacket on. And I did something insane, but I honestly did not know what else to do. I was scared to death and I needed to feel like I somehow could protect myself. So in my pocket, I had a pocket knife. It was open. Blade ready to be pulled out if need be. I Braced myself before I opened the door, and started running. I ran up the driveway, and just ran. Fast but as quiet as I could. I did not want to make any sounds. I feared it would hear me. And I needed to be able to hear it. Never have I concentrated so badly, never have my senses been so sharp and yet felt so dull.
I noticed a car coming, and stopped running. I was in one way glad, because the headlights offered me extra light despite there being the rays of dawn. And I was glad because the engine sound inspired my hopes that perhaps those sounds would scare the thing away. But then... What if all of it worked the opposite way? What if the engines and the extra lights only attracted it? I was so torn. I was a wreck. I was scared out of my mind. I have never taken a ride with a stranger. But that car pulled over. It was one of the moms from my work. In the backseat sat her child. She recognized me and offered me a ride to work. I never hesitated. I jumped right into the backseat. Only when we had driven past that stretch of road did this incredible shame overcome me. I was seated next to a child, and in my pocket was this thing one shouldn't have anywhere near little ones especially. Once we arrived at work, I ran towards a neighbouring house, and there I buried the pocketknife to make sure no little ones would find it. But I still needed it.
You know when you're dreading something, and so time seems to just fly faster? I was the second employee to arrive that morning. The day just flew by as I did my best, and managed to not let a single person know how incredibly frightened I was to go home. No one knew. And then, work was over. I only left when the cleaning lady said I had to because she had to lock up. Then began the journey home. I located the pocketknife, and I walked the long route. Avoided trees the best I could, until there would be nothing but woods left to pass through.
I couldn't keep my eyes fixed at a point for more than a second. I was constantly looking everywhere, listening to everything, praying my dad or any other I knew would drive past and perhaps offer a ride. But no such thing happened. I walked, I shook, I made it to the top. Now I had the worst stretch of road left. The stretch I ran for my life the previous day. I walked fast. And there he was. The bald guy in a sixpence with his walking staff. Smiling and having a lovely day.
I was instantly more petrified. I cursed inside my head, I yelled warnings, I begged him loudly to please step quietly and run back home where he would be safe. Inside my head. On the outside, I tried my best to pull myself together, and I gave him a smile and a nod. Just like all those other times when I hadn't known there was more than furry cuties and toothed dangers in the woods. I was legitimately fearing for his life. And mine. But I couldn't tell him. I felt like I was going crazy.
I made it home. And I made it through my remaining weeks at work. But never, not once, did I step a foot on that road of my own free will ever again. Not ever, not once, did I go outside in the dark. The only thing that could possibly make me dare to, was if my grandparents gave a call. If they gave a call, asking me to come help with something, I would. No matter how scared. But I would always have that knife in my pocket. I would always run, and I would never look behind me. I would never even walk with others, unless it was my twin brother.
I felt forced to when my brother walked to the store. I couldn't have him walk out there alone, unknowing, unprotected. So I forced myself to walk with him, but I was so mad at him for it. He had to promise me to not speak or make any sounds as we walked a certain stretch of the road. He laughed at me. On our way back home, he finally did it. He yelled. He yelled so loudly, and then he stopped and stared. I couldn't run and leave him there. But I couldn't just do nothing either. I just... Fell. Knelt and hoped to God he would just shut up and run with me. He gave me this look I had only seen in his face once before. This look where he truly believed me, maybe not what I had experienced, but at least that my fear was real for me. And my twin, he pulled me back up, and he ran with me. Two fools with grocery bags making noise running alone at near dark, one so terrified, and the other so confused.
To this day, years later, I am still afraid. I still do not know what that was. I am still unable to walk past bushes I can't see through, in daylight. I am not ever asking anyone to believe me. But I have come to the point now, where I have to make one last effort to figure out what this could have been. If others have seen it? If there is any answer out there other than it being my imagination. I am used to telling the difference between spirits and fantasy taking me on a little tour. I have done that since I was a little girl. This... This thing... Nothing has ever felt more real, or affected my life in such a way. If no answers to what it is can be found, I'm still not able to conclude this to be my imagination. You have your experiences, I am asking you now. Could I have imagined this?
Regards
An admittedly frightened Sanguirina.
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