There was a brief moment in my childhood before I blossomed into adolescence when I was terrified to live in my house. And not just because my evil step-monster of a mother lived there, but because there was something else there. I could feel it…hell, my stepmother had, at one point, confirmed that she too could feel something in that house.
The house was over a hundred years old so strange noises were bound to happen, but on this particular night the house was eerily quiet. The only noise I could hear was the living room television distantly echoing into the bedroom I shared, for the time being, with my little brother and little sister. That night I was just getting over being sick and was still slightly running a fever, but I know what I saw. It will haunt me until my last day on this earth.
Standing across my room, there were two men wearing old-style western type of outfits. Honestly, I never was much good at style. Their shirts and pants looked as though someone from Little House on the Prairie may be wearing them. One of them even had a big floppy type of hat. As scared as I was, I didn’t scream once. Almost like I was so scared that I couldn’t move. I just laid there staring right through those men; it was almost as if they were also staring through me. One minute they were there and within the next, they were gone. That is when my father walked into the bedroom to check on us like he did on most nights, so naturally, I told him what I had just witnessed. My father chalked it up too me having an overactive imagination, as well as a slightly elevated fever. However, as soon as my father left the room it started again.
One of the men that I had previously seen was now right next to my bed and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. It’s like a boulder had fallen on me and was proceeding to crush me. Precious moments passed by as I felt that I couldn’t breathe. I was terrified after that, every time I heard a noise in the house. I never did see them again, but I did speak to my grandmother about the situation a few years after the fact.
She informed me that those men were not there too hurt me, but merely to show me of how they had passed. My grandmother also informed me that my father's side of the family had a gift of sight, as she called it, that could not be explained. She assumed it was just because we believed in the supernatural more than most and who's to say that is incorrect.
All I know is that I never brought it back up to my parents because they already did not believe. And that night has still haunted me. My grandmother is, in fact, the only soul that I ever talked to about it. To this day I still get chills thinking about the fear I had as a child that night.
Of course, throughout the years I have seen plenty more, I guess you can say, unusual things occur. Things that can simply not be explained, because believe me when I say I have tried... I was not exactly excited about this so-called gift, but what can you do other than accept something like that? I can now say that I do believe in the paranormal and have plenty of personal experience on the subject.