I apologize for my lack of finishing this story, but sometimes you invite bad things when you dwell on them.
Anyway, so here I am starring at a floating head, it's smile chilling me. Just when I was getting ready to flee the room the head disappeared. I ran to my sliding glass door and closed the curtains. I was exhausted and unnerved. Why was this happening to me?
I decided I was too freaked out to go to sleep, so I lay on my bed (in my clothes) and left the light on. I figured I would just lay there until my heart and slowed down. I was just starting to relax when I felt myself become light as air. It was wonderful...until I opened my eyes and my nose was "touching" the ceiling. I started to freak out. But I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I was helpless. I then heard a low eerie chuckle in my ear. Entirely too close for comfort. I felt myself float up and down - this wasn't me floating up and down but someone/something making me float up and down. This experience seemed to last forever.
Trying to speak was exhausting it was as if I had marbles in my mouth and my throat was closed just allowing me to breath. I finally commanded to beast away and felt myself float back into my body. Did I mention this was an out of body experience. It was this experience that made me realize that whether I was in the dark or light if something wanted to manifest itself, it just would.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The floating head
When I was about 18 I took over a paper route for a friend. My route included a trailer park and an apartment complex. The trailer park was fine...nothing happened when I was there, it was the apartment complex that was the problem.
Problem number 1...I had to walk it. Problem number 2...there was something not right there. I always felt as if I were being followed and/or watched. On many occasions I would see Dark beings materialize. There is a story I will tell in my next posting, but I am going to tell of the floating head first.
I had just finished my paper route and was on my way home to go back to bed. I felt the whole time I was in the apartment complex that I was being followed. The feeling continued as I went home. It is unnerving to feel as if you are being watched to seeing no one in the process.
I made it home, went in the house, and up to my room. It was there that the experience happened. My bedroom was on the second floor. My bedroom had a sliding glass door that opened out onto a second floor deck. I had venetian blinds, and for some reason they were open. I don't remember opening them, and I was taking off my shoes when out of the corner of my eye I see a movement outside on the balcony. I look and there is a head floating about 5 inches off of the deck floor. I think that I must be seeing things...but I can't take my eyes of it. I perceived it to be a man's face, rather gaunt, and smiling at me.
I will tell the rest of it later...
Problem number 1...I had to walk it. Problem number 2...there was something not right there. I always felt as if I were being followed and/or watched. On many occasions I would see Dark beings materialize. There is a story I will tell in my next posting, but I am going to tell of the floating head first.
I had just finished my paper route and was on my way home to go back to bed. I felt the whole time I was in the apartment complex that I was being followed. The feeling continued as I went home. It is unnerving to feel as if you are being watched to seeing no one in the process.
I made it home, went in the house, and up to my room. It was there that the experience happened. My bedroom was on the second floor. My bedroom had a sliding glass door that opened out onto a second floor deck. I had venetian blinds, and for some reason they were open. I don't remember opening them, and I was taking off my shoes when out of the corner of my eye I see a movement outside on the balcony. I look and there is a head floating about 5 inches off of the deck floor. I think that I must be seeing things...but I can't take my eyes of it. I perceived it to be a man's face, rather gaunt, and smiling at me.
I will tell the rest of it later...
Saturday, October 17, 2009
My Amityville Moment...
Not all of my “experiences” are good. Some have been known to curl my toes, make the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and my heart beat so hard in my chest that I was sure everyone within a 20 mile radius could hear it.
When I was 13, I became involved with Scary books. I loved being scared and enjoyed the road I was taken down when I read a scary book or saw a scary movie. I am a firm believer (now) that you can accidently let dark things into your life. This is what I think happened with this experience.
I had picked up the book “The Amityville Horror” and had stayed up late that night reading it. My parents had come into my room two or three times telling me I should go to bed, but I just couldn’t, I wanted to see what happened, I needed to see what happened.
About half way through the book, I felt a general sense of uneasiness. I had never really had a feeling like this, it was as if I were being watched. But my curtains were drawn, and I was the only one in the room. I chalked it up to being scared from reading the book. There comes a point when you are reading late at night, that your eyes get heavy and you keep reading the same page over and over again. It was at this point that I marked my spot in the book. I turned out the light and crawled back into my bed. I was at the precipice of falling asleep when I heard something in my room. My whole body came alive. My skin prickled and my heart practically beat out of my chest.
I don’t know how it started, I don’t even remember the first touch. But gradually I felt as if I was being massaged. From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, gentle needing fingers everywhere at once. I felt my body relax into the massage slowly letting it take over my body. I tell you this because I am not sure when “it” started talking to me. I know that I was being talked to in an incredibly soothing voice. The kneading on my body, the soothing voice I was in a strange fugue state – listening to the voice and what it had to say. I found myself unable to move or speak, but the voice reassured me that everything was alright.
I don’t know how long this lasted, it seemed like forever and I never wanted to get up. The voice was so gentle telling me of things that I could do (things I knew in my heart I could not). That is when I heard a man’s voice, it was a voice I didn’t recognize, but he called me by name. He said “Jennifer, get up.”
It wasn’t a forceful voice, I can’t even say it was demanding at that point, it was just a voice that commanded me to get up. For a moment I tried, but the hands that were kneading me grew more insistent pulling me deeper into the bed.
Again I heard the same man’s voice, this time with a more commanding voice saying “Jennifer, get up now!”
I was still powerless to do as the man asked. I was still hearing the gentle voice telling me to stay, I could do what I wanted to do, and not to listen to the man’s voice. Once again, the kneading fingers pulled me deeper into the bed.
The man’s voice then changed to a woman’s voice, a voice I recognized and would not go against. It was the voice of my Mother. I heard her say “Jennifer, GET UP NOW!!” At hearing my Mother’s voice my mind became fully alert. I tried to sit up in bed, but I could not. The fingers that kneaded my back so completely were now grabbing at me. It went from gentle to painful in seconds. I was struggling to get out of my bed, unable to speak or move, feeling helpless. I heard my Mother’s voice again, this time in a tone that sent me practically jumping out of bed, I heard her say “JENNIFER, GET OUT OF BED NOW!!!”
I started dragging myself from the bed, the painful fingers turned into talons. I could feel them scraping across my back, legs and bottom. The pain from them was so intense, I just knew that my skin was being ripped off. The gentle voice that had been speaking to me started to scream. It was like no scream I had ever heard. When it stopped screaming, I heard it say “I will get you”.
I finally jumped out of bed, my heart slamming in my chest as I looked around the room. There was nothing…no hands, no man, no Mother…just nothing. I crashed out of my bedroom and called to my Mother. She came running out of her room to see what was wrong with me. “Jennifer’ she said ’what is wrong with you?”
“Did you call me” I asked.
“Why would I call you’ she said, ‘it is only 5 in the morning.”
“Mom, are you sure you didn’t call me.” I implored of her
“Jennifer, go back to bed. I didn’t call you” she said.
I don’t know who called me that morning, I would like to think it was the Lord. I would like to think that once I was unable to respond to the man’s voice, he knew that I would always answer to my Mother’s voice. For a few weeks after this, I would sleep with my bedroom lights on. I just couldn’t bear to sleep with them off. I was afraid of what was going to happen. Little did I know then that if they want to visit me, they will do it whether I had a light on or off.
When I was 13, I became involved with Scary books. I loved being scared and enjoyed the road I was taken down when I read a scary book or saw a scary movie. I am a firm believer (now) that you can accidently let dark things into your life. This is what I think happened with this experience.
I had picked up the book “The Amityville Horror” and had stayed up late that night reading it. My parents had come into my room two or three times telling me I should go to bed, but I just couldn’t, I wanted to see what happened, I needed to see what happened.
About half way through the book, I felt a general sense of uneasiness. I had never really had a feeling like this, it was as if I were being watched. But my curtains were drawn, and I was the only one in the room. I chalked it up to being scared from reading the book. There comes a point when you are reading late at night, that your eyes get heavy and you keep reading the same page over and over again. It was at this point that I marked my spot in the book. I turned out the light and crawled back into my bed. I was at the precipice of falling asleep when I heard something in my room. My whole body came alive. My skin prickled and my heart practically beat out of my chest.
I don’t know how it started, I don’t even remember the first touch. But gradually I felt as if I was being massaged. From the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, gentle needing fingers everywhere at once. I felt my body relax into the massage slowly letting it take over my body. I tell you this because I am not sure when “it” started talking to me. I know that I was being talked to in an incredibly soothing voice. The kneading on my body, the soothing voice I was in a strange fugue state – listening to the voice and what it had to say. I found myself unable to move or speak, but the voice reassured me that everything was alright.
I don’t know how long this lasted, it seemed like forever and I never wanted to get up. The voice was so gentle telling me of things that I could do (things I knew in my heart I could not). That is when I heard a man’s voice, it was a voice I didn’t recognize, but he called me by name. He said “Jennifer, get up.”
It wasn’t a forceful voice, I can’t even say it was demanding at that point, it was just a voice that commanded me to get up. For a moment I tried, but the hands that were kneading me grew more insistent pulling me deeper into the bed.
Again I heard the same man’s voice, this time with a more commanding voice saying “Jennifer, get up now!”
I was still powerless to do as the man asked. I was still hearing the gentle voice telling me to stay, I could do what I wanted to do, and not to listen to the man’s voice. Once again, the kneading fingers pulled me deeper into the bed.
The man’s voice then changed to a woman’s voice, a voice I recognized and would not go against. It was the voice of my Mother. I heard her say “Jennifer, GET UP NOW!!” At hearing my Mother’s voice my mind became fully alert. I tried to sit up in bed, but I could not. The fingers that kneaded my back so completely were now grabbing at me. It went from gentle to painful in seconds. I was struggling to get out of my bed, unable to speak or move, feeling helpless. I heard my Mother’s voice again, this time in a tone that sent me practically jumping out of bed, I heard her say “JENNIFER, GET OUT OF BED NOW!!!”
I started dragging myself from the bed, the painful fingers turned into talons. I could feel them scraping across my back, legs and bottom. The pain from them was so intense, I just knew that my skin was being ripped off. The gentle voice that had been speaking to me started to scream. It was like no scream I had ever heard. When it stopped screaming, I heard it say “I will get you”.
I finally jumped out of bed, my heart slamming in my chest as I looked around the room. There was nothing…no hands, no man, no Mother…just nothing. I crashed out of my bedroom and called to my Mother. She came running out of her room to see what was wrong with me. “Jennifer’ she said ’what is wrong with you?”
“Did you call me” I asked.
“Why would I call you’ she said, ‘it is only 5 in the morning.”
“Mom, are you sure you didn’t call me.” I implored of her
“Jennifer, go back to bed. I didn’t call you” she said.
I don’t know who called me that morning, I would like to think it was the Lord. I would like to think that once I was unable to respond to the man’s voice, he knew that I would always answer to my Mother’s voice. For a few weeks after this, I would sleep with my bedroom lights on. I just couldn’t bear to sleep with them off. I was afraid of what was going to happen. Little did I know then that if they want to visit me, they will do it whether I had a light on or off.
Not alone in my dream
I used to have this reoccurring dream when I was little, I had it for years. The location of the dream was always the same, but what happened in the dream was different. I felt it had no real significance until I was in my 20’s and speaking to a cousin of mine. We were talking about dreams and our dealings with spirits. Again, this wasn’t something I spoke about with just anyone, but my cousin made me feel comfortable and he was easy to talk to.
He told me of a reoccurring dream he used to have. He explained it like this:
In the dream, I would be at Grandma’s old house (we all loved that house). He went on to explain, if you went upstairs to our Uncle’s Bedroom there was a large walk-in closet. When you opened the door to the closet there was a staircase that went up to the attic. I stopped him, my heart was pounding, I could hear the blood coursing in my ears (if you can imagine).
I looked at him and said…”Was there an old farm table in the attic with chairs around it?”
His eyes widened slightly and he said “Yes, how did you know”
My reply took a little bit, I had never shared this dream with anyone so listening to my cousin was rather surreal. I said “Were Great Grandma and Grandpa there?”
He said “Yes, how did you know that?”
“Because, I have had that same dream.” I said.
We looked at each other, kindred spirits now having shared something that couldn’t be possible. We both had the same dream, about a farm table in an attic that was only accessible through a closet in our uncle’s bedroom. The coincidences were just too much. What made it more impossible is that there was no attic in my Grandma’s house and there wasn’t a staircase in my Uncle’s Bedroom closet. We had both shared the same experience at different times. When we talked about the conversations we had with our Great Grandparents, it was the same. They wanted to know how we were doing, and what was going on in our lives, How our parents were and were we happy.
How often have we had dreams about loved ones that involved full conversations and the next morning we think nothing of them. What if our ancestors are trying to tell us something, words of advice or warning. Maybe we are more accessible when we dream, our minds opened to the sounds and spirits around us. What knowledge can we learn from taking the time to evaluate our dreams?
He told me of a reoccurring dream he used to have. He explained it like this:
In the dream, I would be at Grandma’s old house (we all loved that house). He went on to explain, if you went upstairs to our Uncle’s Bedroom there was a large walk-in closet. When you opened the door to the closet there was a staircase that went up to the attic. I stopped him, my heart was pounding, I could hear the blood coursing in my ears (if you can imagine).
I looked at him and said…”Was there an old farm table in the attic with chairs around it?”
His eyes widened slightly and he said “Yes, how did you know”
My reply took a little bit, I had never shared this dream with anyone so listening to my cousin was rather surreal. I said “Were Great Grandma and Grandpa there?”
He said “Yes, how did you know that?”
“Because, I have had that same dream.” I said.
We looked at each other, kindred spirits now having shared something that couldn’t be possible. We both had the same dream, about a farm table in an attic that was only accessible through a closet in our uncle’s bedroom. The coincidences were just too much. What made it more impossible is that there was no attic in my Grandma’s house and there wasn’t a staircase in my Uncle’s Bedroom closet. We had both shared the same experience at different times. When we talked about the conversations we had with our Great Grandparents, it was the same. They wanted to know how we were doing, and what was going on in our lives, How our parents were and were we happy.
How often have we had dreams about loved ones that involved full conversations and the next morning we think nothing of them. What if our ancestors are trying to tell us something, words of advice or warning. Maybe we are more accessible when we dream, our minds opened to the sounds and spirits around us. What knowledge can we learn from taking the time to evaluate our dreams?
Floating and falling
When I was little my family lived in a little two bedroom townhouse. I shared a bedroom with my brothers. Not fun, if you are a little girl that wants her own space. To fix that situation, my father built me a bed on stilts. We painted it pink…I loved that bed, I felt like the princess and the pea. My mother made me a curtain that went around the bottom of my bed and they placed my dresser underneath it. It was great! I could lock my brothers out of my area by putting my curtain up (which drove them crazy) and I had the space that I so very much craved.
Like every little girl, I loved to play dress up. My Great Aunt had given me some of her old hats, I never wore them, but I liked having them around. One day, I just started wearing one of her hats. I distinctly remember my Mother asking me why I was wearing the hat. I told her it just made me feel close to My Great Aunt. She didn’t think anything of it, but I remember her giving me looks.
That night I went to bed and brought her hat to bed with me. My Mother tried to take the hat from me and put it in my toy box, but I wasn’t having any of that. I told her I needed to have that hat. She relented and I went to bed.
I don’t know what time it was, but I remember the room being pitch black and cold. I don’t remember my room ever feeling that cold before. I rolled over to go back to sleep when I felt a tug. Oddly enough I didn’t think anything of this. I guess when you are little you are used to people picking you up and moving you around. That picked up/moving me around was the sensation I was feeling. I opened my eyes and I was floating. I was no longer on my bed and I could see the ground coming toward me. Now, to say the least, this was a strange experience. It was like time stopped for a moment and the whole world went quiet. Normally when you fall out of bed (because I had on a few occasions fallen off my bed) the ground comes rushing up to you and you feel a thud, not pleasant. But, this isn’t what was happening. I could see the ground coming up to me, but at an incredibly slow rate of speed. I remember being placed on the ground. I say placed because I don’t know of any other way to explain it. I didn’t thud, I didn’t lose my breath, and it didn’t hurt.
When I looked up, I could see my Great Aunt. Now, we lived hundreds of miles from my Great Aunt and there was no way she could be in my room right then. She smiled at me, and I smiled at her. I must have been dozing because I felt myself being picked up again and placed back into my bed. The following morning my Mother, at breakfast, told me that my Great Aunt had passed away last night. I told her I knew. My Mother didn’t say anything to me and just went on with her day. To this day, my parents have a hard time with my experiences. It is difficult for people who don’t see to understand the people that do.
I didn’t realize that I should be scared, or that I should wonder about why my great aunt came to visit me after she died. Maybe it was because she knew I could see, or maybe she was just checking in on the family.
I write this even now and wonder of it's significance in my life. Why was I able to see?
Like every little girl, I loved to play dress up. My Great Aunt had given me some of her old hats, I never wore them, but I liked having them around. One day, I just started wearing one of her hats. I distinctly remember my Mother asking me why I was wearing the hat. I told her it just made me feel close to My Great Aunt. She didn’t think anything of it, but I remember her giving me looks.
That night I went to bed and brought her hat to bed with me. My Mother tried to take the hat from me and put it in my toy box, but I wasn’t having any of that. I told her I needed to have that hat. She relented and I went to bed.
I don’t know what time it was, but I remember the room being pitch black and cold. I don’t remember my room ever feeling that cold before. I rolled over to go back to sleep when I felt a tug. Oddly enough I didn’t think anything of this. I guess when you are little you are used to people picking you up and moving you around. That picked up/moving me around was the sensation I was feeling. I opened my eyes and I was floating. I was no longer on my bed and I could see the ground coming toward me. Now, to say the least, this was a strange experience. It was like time stopped for a moment and the whole world went quiet. Normally when you fall out of bed (because I had on a few occasions fallen off my bed) the ground comes rushing up to you and you feel a thud, not pleasant. But, this isn’t what was happening. I could see the ground coming up to me, but at an incredibly slow rate of speed. I remember being placed on the ground. I say placed because I don’t know of any other way to explain it. I didn’t thud, I didn’t lose my breath, and it didn’t hurt.
When I looked up, I could see my Great Aunt. Now, we lived hundreds of miles from my Great Aunt and there was no way she could be in my room right then. She smiled at me, and I smiled at her. I must have been dozing because I felt myself being picked up again and placed back into my bed. The following morning my Mother, at breakfast, told me that my Great Aunt had passed away last night. I told her I knew. My Mother didn’t say anything to me and just went on with her day. To this day, my parents have a hard time with my experiences. It is difficult for people who don’t see to understand the people that do.
I didn’t realize that I should be scared, or that I should wonder about why my great aunt came to visit me after she died. Maybe it was because she knew I could see, or maybe she was just checking in on the family.
I write this even now and wonder of it's significance in my life. Why was I able to see?
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