I would get visited in my dreams every other night, some times every night, for about a year. I wasn’t an evil person and my dad’s a minister, so I don’t know why I was attacked. In my dreams I knew I was sleeping but couldn’t wake up. I would be on my bed and wouldn’t be able to move or talk and I could see the room the same, but it seemed static like that’s the only thing that was different and there were demons, some times three or four at a time.
One time one was sitting on me with its back turned against me and I could see his spine poking out. His body was really small, a lot like that creature off of Lord of the Rings, the one who showed Frodo around, they had his body and wore a cloth like diaper around their groin area.
Another demon would be biting at my hand and another at my feet and pulling my body like they were trying to pull me off the bed. They stunk horribly like smoke and some other weird smell, they were bald and had oval big eyes with sharp pointed corners and their teeth were sharp looking with blood stains on them.
One was over my face laughing at me. I remember finally being able to speak and saying, in the name of Jesus Christ leave, and would I say it over and over again and they would just laugh at me and I still couldn’t move. They would be touching my nipples and playing with my clitoris, that always happened when ever I got visited by them and it happened over and over again for months.
If I wasn’t being attacked by them I was always having a dream I was dying of something or someone was chasing me. I would fall off cliffs or be in tornados and drown in the ocean and it was pitch black in all of them. I would wake up in the middle of it so I could still feel it even after a couple of minutes went by. I would wake up and the clock would always say 3:00 am.
Then the attacks stopped for a while in my dreams. For about a year it stopped. I would have them only once in a while. Then I started to get attacked while I was awake. I would feel someone laying on top of me and it would be hard to breathe, that happened a lot, almost everyday. I remember it happened one time when I was 17, but it stopped and I soon forgot. I would tell my dad and he would always say, just pray about it. Praying is what I always did.
Then I finally met someone who was a medium. He told me about my attacks and he knew nothing about me. We became good friends and I got along with his wife and kids. Shortly after they got baptized at my church, the attacks got worse, ten fold. There was so much it would take a book to write it all.
I moved in with the family because they understood my attacks, but my family didn’t. We all slept in the front room because it was hard being alone, sounds weird but at that time I needed a lot of help and they were being attacked too. The kids could see the demons too. Then demons would enter into me. I was able to chase them out my self but it was hard. It never got as bad as some possessions I’ve read about. I would say mine were more attached to me.