9. Those chills mean something
When I was really young, around 1.5-3 years old, I was always sick, and quiet. (Some things don’t change lol). My parents moved us from Alaska to Oregon so they could be closer to family to help raise me. We moved around a few times, renting crappy old houses. There was one house we lived in in particular that was old, creaky, the works. Even had an insane land lord. Literally insane, she went to the hospital for psychotic /schizophrenic episodes, and her husband was trying to keep himself together while taking care of her, and trying to manage renting out houses. What I’m saying is that it was not a happy place. My parents could feel it, my grandparents could feel it, and I could too. I told my parents there were skeletons in my closet watching me. When my grandma was alone with me, I told her “man with gun”. And that’s all I said. We were close to the city, so it would not have been anything normal to see a man with a gun around the house…. Me saying small things like that persisted the entire time in that house. I never said anything about monsters, or skeletons, or ghosts, before and after that house. The weirdest part was about a month before we moved out. Someone(s) broke into our house, but didn’t steal or touch anything. There was human feces and urine smeared in weird patterns around the house and walls. We gtfo’d to a different house. I have a couple stories about the next house, one was the most terrifying thing that has happened to me, and the other was a mix of scary/happy.
Most terrifying moment: I was 6 or 7 when it happened, and it scared the piss out of me, so I can remember it very well. I was just starting to wake up out of a night’s rest, gaining my senses slowly. I was laying on my bed facing towards the door. I saw the door open, and a large man walk in, who I assumed to be my dad. I remember a pressure on my legs that felt like hands, and they were shaking me lightly, as if trying to wake me up, but I decided to be a shit-head that morning and pretended like I was still completely asleep. After a moment the shaking stopped. Then I felt a small breeze under my blanket, as if someone was lifting up the blankets by my feet. Right as I felt the chill, two large hands grabbed both of my legs HARD. They started pulling me off the end of the bed, as if trying to drag me underneath. This whole time I thought it was my Dad messing with me, or just trying to wake me up, but the moment I felt those hands on me, trying to pull me off the bed, I was terrified. I had never been scared of my Dad, what was going on? Why did these hands feel so angry? I was clawing at my bed to get a grip on something to pull myself away from the hands. At some point they just let go after resisting for 30-60 seconds. I ran out the door of my room as soon as I was free. I ran to the kitchen and saw both of my parents standing there making breakfast. I was crying, and confused, end even though my dad was standing in the kitchen, I asked him in between sobs something along the lines of “Dad, why did you do that? You scared me. And that hurt.” He just looked at me flabbergasted and said, “I haven’t been in your room to wake you up yet. Are you ok?” I think that was the most confused and scared I’ve ever been in my life.
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