Before my time, sensitivity to the paranormal has run down my father's line of the family, no one on my mothers side even displayed a single bit of sensitivity. In fact they acted as a repellent for paranormal activity almost, just being around my Gramps. Yet again this is on my mother's side of the family; one could feel that he had an extraordinary presence to be truthful. One that is strong, bold and is unafraid, he dared to do what others wouldn't. He's visited graveyards at midnight where he provoked spirits/demons/anything you'd like to call them with Ouija boards, he's even spent the night there and nada. He's done just about everything to mess with them, yet nothing. Well you could say my Grandpa was formerly a sensitive person, as a child he'd have dreams of spirits tormenting him, chasing him. At times they'd manifest and scare him shiatless. But eventually he turned the tables, having dreams where HE chased them down, stabbing them violently with a crazed grin accompanied by maniacal laughter, and the manifestations stopped, the dreams gone.
My dad's side of the family on the other hand are like magnets to activity, and their gift or curse has passed onto me and I just pray my little siblings don't have it. I've always been known as the special one by my Pops, he acknowledged the fact that I shared the same ability as him but in a much greater degree. He's comforted me through it all even when I felt my faith being crushed and soul burned. But let's begin with my accounts shall we?
It wasn't until I was actually 6 or 7 years old until I began to experience things, systematically every night I'd hop out of my parents bed at around 3AM and would exit the room and be compelled to sit in the hall way where only a tiny light was lit. I sat underneath that light, staring into the darkness, seeing movement and eventually I'd see solid shapes then details, to the point where it progressed to where I could hear what ever was there. I admit it did make me sit there paralyzed with fear, but why I continued to go and wait I have no clue. I was unable to make out any words though, and that was all I basically experienced until we moved which was around when I was 10 years old.
Being in a new house, my grandpa has always told me there was nothing to be afraid of, our old house we could be afraid of as he later told me the former owner committed suicide under stress because his wife was cheating on him. I've never met him before my at the time of us moving in we still lived with him actually; this is all before I was born. My family was fleeing from the Vietnam War, well conflict is what they call it now but the former owner took them in when my family had nowhere else to go. After moving place from place as we couldn't afford to stay anywhere. My grandpa told me he was a good, compassionate, caring man and that he was actually there to meet me. He showed me an old photograph where my Gramps stood next to this incredibly happy looking man who seemed to be in his 40's and cradled in the man's arms, wrapped in a blankie was ME. I just couldn't believe it though, I just still question to this day if it was him trying to communicate to me.
But anyways, any our new come. I frequently saw faces flicker in the mirror as I walked by the bathrooms, not just oooh a ghost face. But I mean a dead on rotten face that had flesh barely clinging to its face anymore as it was torn off, blood ran down its face and it had this sickening grimace to it. Of course every time I saw it, I booked it and ran to where everyone else was and I would stay with them for hours until they went upstairs to go to bed themselves. When I would come home from school, I walk by the way so I'd get home and I'd be by myself which I dreaded the most. I would see figures, faces, I would feel and hear breathing and at times hands gripping me tightly preventing me from moving. One night in particular frightened me the most, it started out typically. Myself in bed under the covers, the lights would flicker and I would hear footsteps on the carpet and whispers moving towards me. I bolted for my parent's room, but it only got worse. They woke up and tried to comfort me and I tried to tell them but they wouldn't believe as it literally continued to harass me in the presence of my mom and dad who saw and heard nothing. What shocked me more is my Dad who was very sensitive didn't notice a thing. I tried to sleep in their bed that night, but managed nothing as forms manifested. Dresses in my mother's closet began to rattle and shadowy legs sprouted from them and they crawled like snakes. Green beady eyes opened all over the room, the walls, the floor, just everywhere, voices came at me, threats of death and abandonment.
As the entities told me of their expectations, I felt hopelessness in my heart and in its place filled with primal rage to say the least. My face contorted into a grimace, and it stopped. I had no idea what happened or where it came from. But I felt a wave of security and hatred overcome me, in a defense mechanism like manner as if. Enough to make them leave me leave me for a good few years where I lived undisturbed.
Recently, now that I'm 15 it's slowly coming back to me. Starting off as it did before, whispers and catching glimpses of figures in the corner of my eyes who'd flee as soon as I'd look in their direction. But what confused me more than scared me was a dream I had, I was in a place that seemed to be an eternity of blankness, a pure white room as if. A figure appeared before me and revealed itself to me, it was a tall slender elderly man who looked strikingly familiar but I didn't know who. He told me "I've waited so long Devin, now that you're here. I can give you what is rightfully yours, a gift." He placed his hands on my head and an excruciating burning sensation spread through out my body, I screamed in pain both in my dream and in reality. I blacked out in the dream and woke up actually now, my head pounding. I got up and headed to the bathroom where I nearly had a heart attack when I saw a pair of hands imprinted in dried blood on my head. I washed it off frantically, and it came off. Not a single scratch on me but I still felt the burning sensation. I described the man to my family and my Grandma began to tear up and broke down, I asked her what was wrong and she told me I had described my Great Grandfather perfectly.
Now in the past week, things have been changing, I've developed a 7TH sense if you'd like to call it that. It is a controllable sense meaning I can toggle it on and off like a light, but it affects my vision directly. Everything and everyone has an aura around them as if, each aura unique to its owner but if I look at myself I lack one. Though I have no idea what it does, I'm confused as recently I've actually been growing stronger, physically and mentally at a fast rate, where I've actually become able to frighten entities which I know sound very unbelievable but apparently I can. Just yesterday I awoke to an extremely detailed figure, which bore human looking skin and everything. It had an evil grimace spread across its face you could say, its posture assuring its position and aggression. Though I felt no fear but anger and hate, I shouted numerous profanities and threats at it and I noticed it's facial expression changed from Oooh I'm trying to scare you to one of fear. And it left, just like that.
I'm just so confused to what all these chain events mean, and what is happening to me.