I remember moving into my, then, new childhood home when I was around 8 years old. I was super thrilled because it was so much bigger than our last home and it even had a front yard and a good sized back yard to play in. The strange thing is that when we moved in I started to hear voices.
My grandparents took the back room down this creepy hallway that was aligned with the garage door. Whenever I was back there I would hear whispering. It sounded as if it was coming from the windows in the back of the room facing out to some banana trees. I could understand what it was that I was hearing, but it would creep me out. I told my parents about it; upon inspection my father would never hear it. My dad said it could be the neighbours' voices bouncing off the Banana trees' leaves. As long as I didn't go in the back room I felt I'd be okay, until I heard my name.
I played in my room letting my imagination take off when I heard my father call to me. I yelled, "Yes dad!" No response. Being afraid of getting "it" from my father by not responding quickly, I ran out to see what it was he needed. "Yeah pop?" He looked at me and said, "What's the matter?" I asked if he called. He said no. All right, I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks. Then it called again.
I was in the kitchen eating breakfast one morning when I heard my mother call me. I went to see what she wanted. I saw she was in her room cleaning the bathroom. I asked her what she needed. She said she hadn't called me. She was concerned and asked me what I had heard. I told her I heard her voice calling my name, and a while ago dad called to me as well, but he said he didn't. My mother is a very spiritual person. She loved God dearly and held great respect for those who passed away. She told me never to answer those voices, if I heard them calling not to acknowledge them. She instructed me to just go to her and dad and see if they we both okay." I agreed.
Over the years I would hear the voices calling to me. My oldest sister would also hear my parents calling to her, but it wouldn't be them. We both knew the drill. I think my parents were getting annoyed at seeing my sister and me coming to them for no reason. On a few occasions when I'd hear my name from a family member I'd look for them, but they wouldn't be home. The thing that was calling to us seemed to know we knew it was there.
One Sunday my father and I had chopped down those old banana trees out back in the yard. We spent the whole morning cleaning our yard; pulling the leaves, weed-whacking, chopping banana trunks, clipping the mock-orange, and so on. It was getting too hot and my dad said I should go in and take a shower as we were done for the day. He elected to go to the dump and throw out our trash, I said okay. When I was in the shower I had left both doors of the bathroom open. One door lead to the small bedroom, mine, and the other door lead to the back room, my grandparents room where I heard the whispering. I lathered shampoo onto my hair and I heard this shrill screaming that startled me.
It was the sound of my father! He screamed my name in excruciating pain. I was the most afraid I had ever been in my life. I jumped out of the shower, grabbed my towel, wrapped it around me, and I flew out the door. I got to the garage, the place I heard my father, and looked around. My adrenaline was pumping and I was getting ready to see the worst. I then realized that my father was at the dump. My heart slowed down and I turned to walk back into the house feeling a little embarrassed. As I took a step I felt something.
I was on my way back to the shower, but before I could get to the garage door I felt a chilling breeze touch my bare chest. The feeling went from my upper torso over one of my shoulders, and down my spine then disappeared completely. I couldn't explain it. Where does a cold breeze come from on a ninety-eight degrees mid day? Then where does it go?
I shuddered after that and quickly finished my shower. When my father got back I was relieved. Not because I was afraid of a paranormal experience, but because I thought he had gotten seriously hurt. I told him of what had happened and he couldn't say what it was.
To this day I still hear something call to me that isn't there.
Now I hear my wife call me all the time, but not by name. I always hear "Babe", "Honey", or hear her voice with a short indecipherable phrase. Luckily she hears my voice calling to her as well, so she doesn't think I'm crazy. What's even funnier is that now, when I visit my family at my old home, my sisters son comes out of his room on occasion and says "What is it mom?" to her while she and I are in the middle of a conversation. I tell him "Make sure you don't answer the voice back." My sister and I laugh because we remember doing the same thing.
If anyone has had a similar experience with things calling you by your name, I would love to hear them.