My name is Leslie. I am 27 years old and I live in Las Vegas. I moved here when I was 10 years old from Ohio, with my mother, step-dad and two little brothers. The experience that I am about to tell all of you happened to me a few weeks after I turned 13. A little background to the story; my biological father John Leslie died on September 7th 1982. I was born on September 27th 1982. I never got to meet him. All I ever heard was that I look just like him and act like him as well.
I was very tired one Saturday night and I decided to go to bed early. It was just like usual, brushed my teeth, took a drink of water and flopped into bed. For some reason, still to this day, I look at the clock before I go to sleep. It was 10:52 P.M. A few minutes after I closed my eyes, I heard someone come into my room. I thought it was my mom checking on me because I was NOT a very good kid at the time. When I turned to look, there was a man closing the door behind him. He had dark, medium length hair, a black tee shirt with a Harley Davidson motorcycle logo on it, dirty blue jeans and black boots. For whatever reason, I was not afraid of this man, though I very well should have been being as I had never seen him before in my ENTIRE life. In fact I was extremely calmed and kind of happy to see him, though I didn't know why.
He came over to my bed and sat on the edge of it and just looked at me for a long time. He started to stroke my cheek with the back of his fingers. He told me that I should be more respectful to my mom because she was having a very hard time with me. He also told me that he loved me very much and that I should tell my mom that he loved her too and missed her more than she could ever know. I had no idea what he was talking about, but it really didn't matter because I was so comfortable and complacent I couldn't really move to say anything back. It seemed like hours that he sat there stroking my face, just staring at each other. Then he bent over and kissed my forehead and said goodnight Petey! My mom called me Petey when I was small and that was what made me sit straight up right after he closed the door behind him again.
The very odd thing about this whole experience to me was I looked at the clock when I sat up and it was still 10:52 P.M. And I realized that when I had sat up, I was laying on the side of my face that he was stroking so it ought to have been warm. My cheek felt like I had an ice pack on it for too long.
I was so freaked out that I went into my mom's room and stole a cigarette. And then proceeded to scrub the grout and tile in the kitchen with a toothbrush and bleach until my mom woke up around 3 in the morning. I had been crying the whole time just trying to figure out what the hell had just happened and who this man was. I told my wonderful mommy (zzsgranny by the way) the whole story and when I was finished she was in tears as well. She told me that that man that came to see me was my father. I didn't believe her. So she went to her closet and brought out a bible that had a zipper cover on it. She showed me pictures of a man that looked just like the man that was in my room FOR EVER. It was the first time I had seen pictures of my father.
"That's your dad. He came to visit you. Don't be scared! He loves you and I guess he thought you were old enough not to freak out! Guess he was wrong huh?" she said with a little smile on her face.
I love my mom!
I haven't had an experience like this one since, though there have been quite a few different ones.
On a side note, my daughter Zoe, who is 5 now, has a few "imaginary" friends. One of her friends name is John. She has described him to me almost exactly the same way I described him to you, only she was about 2 when she started talking about him. He kisses her on the forehead before she goes to sleep sometimes. Cool huh?