I never thought much about this when it happened, but there was a place between our house and the one next door where I used regularly to hear my name whispered. This will have been when I was less than 10 years old. I just sort of got used to it: that was the place where I would hear my name. I'd walk a little faster and be glad to be away from it--so apparently I was slightly spooked but not really scared enough ever to tell anyone about it. Until now, that is!
As a young adult, I had a cat that I loved very much: Libby the Wonder Cat! She got mangled by two overplayful dogs and I had a horrible, horrible day at the vet's where her needs were ignored so that other pets could get their shots or whatever... Libby disappeared eventually into the vet's room and I never saw her alive again. I was gutted! For years afterwards, I would feel her jump on my bed at night. I would really be convinced she was there. I put this down to imagination and grief--though it continued long after I was grieving for little Libby--until I read that a lot of other people have had the same experience. So, maybe she did come back to cheer me up!
My last mini-tale is about a place where I had a very bad feeling and years later heard of someone else having the same feeling about the same place. When I was little, my family used to go to Jekyll Island on the coast of Georgia for holidays. One day, aged about 14, I decided to walk all the way around the island. Crazy idea--I would never had made it--it was about 15 miles and I had no supplies! Anyway, I had only gone about 2 miles to the north end of the island, which at that time (it will have been circa 1975) was very isolated--not a building in sight. I was suddenly, inexplicably overcome with terror. What I imagined to myself was that an alligator would attack. I had never heard of alligators on that island. It was broad daylight with the Georgia sun beating down at about 90F. Anyway, a good 15 years later, an Italian friend of mine at university went on a trip through Georgia with another friend visiting from Italy. My friend (Clara) came back with stories from her travels, including Jekyll, which I had recommended to her. The other friend had insisted on sunbathing on a particularly lonely part of the island (probably so she could go topless!), but Clara felt very uncomfortable there. She was deeply unsettled and only half joked to her friend, when she saw a running shoe on the beach, that something must have got the jogger... It was only when Clara told me this story that I remembered my experience so many years earlier. We discussed it and decided it must be just about the same place on the island--the northeast end, beautifully secluded view onto the Atlantic and mysteriously unpopulated. Well, I've been back since and it is now very populated, and doesn't feel scary. So, go figure!
So, there's a few stories, short and sweet. I hope they're not too boring!