I have seen things my entire life. Things that can not be explained or believed by most people. For that reason alone, I have not had a lot of friends, but most of the friends I have had were male. After things that I have seen, most girls are just silly. No offense girls, I’m one too. When you have seen or dreamed some of the things I have, worrying about what color hairbow to wear with what color shirt to impress somebody just doesn’t seem important to me. My scariest story I think I will save for myself at least for now. It freaked me out so bad that I didn’t sleep for several days. At one point I locked myself into a bathroom with the light on holding a butcher knife.
OK. Starting in the past. Everybody dreams. You dream, I dream, we all dream. I have dreams that I considered normal. Good ones, bad ones, nightmares. Considering some of the subject matters we are talking about, it’s funny to say I have nightmares about spiders, getting cut by broken glass, or my teeth falling out. I wish that was the worst thing…
I also have dreams that I call the freaky ones. It doesn’t always happen. What I talk about, maybe by talking to them and warning them, what I tell them makes them do something different because of what I said, that what I saw was changed. It has happened enough times to me that my family knows that if I call them in the middle of the night sounding weird, they know what they should do.
I wake up in a panic, I don’t even know why. My heart will be pounding, I’ll be practically hyperventilating, if you ask me what my name is, for a second I won’t know who I am or even who I am talking to. It sucks.� How do you explain to someone why you called them at 3:00 in the morning to tell them you had a bad dream?
I called my mother one night, or I should say, one morning, screaming at her to get out of the house. At the time, I lived in North Carolina, and she lived in Washington State, 3 hour time difference. All I knew was, at the time, everybody had to get out of the house right then! My mother had, unfortunately, had to deal with me before. My mom started asking me questions. When I am having one of these “episodes” I don’t even know what I am talking about, but if someone asks me a question, I can answer. Yes, it kinda scares me. My mother asked me why everyone had to get out and I told her because the house was on fire. I didn’t know that until she asked me, but then I knew. Yeah, it’s screwed up.
I won’t know what is going on until someone asks a question and then I will know the answer, but even then I won’t know the whole story. One question will lead to an answer, and then the next answer will lead to the next question. All in all… no…
I don’t want to go into too many details, but really, the whole reason I am writing this is because I want somebody to believe me, and because I am sure that there are a thousand other people out there that wish there was ONE other person on the planet that actually BELIEVED what they said. Not nodded and looked away and changed the subject.
When I told my mother that house was on fire, she said no it’s not, I’m here and I don’t smell smoke. Yes, they have a wood stove, that’s a given up there. She asked me where the fire was and I told her it was in the chimney. She said that wasn’t possible because they had just had someone in to clean it out.
Keep in mind that I was over 2,500 miles away. When she told me that someone had cleaned the chimney, I got even more upset, all I knew was that whoever cleaned the chimney, there was a birds nest in the chimney, and when mom lit a fire in the wood stove, a spark went up. Because most of the chimney had been cleaned, the spark floated up and caught the nest on fire. When I was trying to explain to my mom why I was so upset, she went over to the wall and touched it. Her hand was blistered. The entire flue was on fire and because it was an old house the, woodwork was also dry and starting to catch. My mom got everyone up and with the help of, I don’t know what, and a couple of water hoses pointed at the chimney and the top of the roof… I just don’t know what could have happened. Yes I do…
How do you describe panic when at the time you can’t even breathe, words cannot describe. Words cannot even come close to what you feel when you can’t breathe and when you feel your heart is going to explode. How do you describe panic when at the time you can’t even breathe?
I’m just glad that because I called freaked out and my family decided to humor me that they are all still here to humor me.
Sent in by Angelique Dawn, Copyright 2010