I would like to christen my new account by recalling a paranormal experience I encountered a while back. Believe me or not, I don’t mind. Whatever helps you sleep at night I suppose. However, if you read this story with cynical skepticism, I implore you to heed my warnings.
Some backstory is needed for my experience to make sense. I’ve always been interested in the dark and occult, even though I grew up in a superstitious, Christian household. My parents made my brother and myself go to a church camp every summer, which is the catalyst for the biggest mistake in my life. Before I sacrificed wifi and phones for five full days of sun and ‘praising the lord’, a seed was planted in my young mind. I resolved to hatch a veritable rebellious plan; I was going to attempt to summon something while there. A few nights into the week, the urge to follow through with the plan subdued my hesitance. I had done some less than saintly things to gather all the materials I needed. Most of which I was able to swipe from the mess hall in the dead of night. We were all good little christian children after all, who would steal food or cutlery way up in the mountains? The ‘ritual’, if it could even be called that, called for it to begin at midnight, that’s a shocker. I stayed up as long as I could and began while the rest of my bunkmates slept in their rickety beds. For safety reasons, I will not disclose what I did. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I knew for certain the ritual was the reason why this happened, and have my nightmares thrust upon those foolish enough to try. Yet, when I tried, nothing happened. No feeling of dread, no figures — nothing! Instead, I felt cheated and betrayed, but also relieved. With a heavy heart, I stashed my objects of disappointment, and crawled into my safe, hard bunk.
The time came to head back home, and I was still kind of bummed that nothing frightening happened; unless you count how pathetic the boys’ pranks were. As I was leaving, a thought creeped into my mind; “Maybe it was because this place is considered ‘holy land’?.” It almost seemed hopeful. That was the first time I felt scared in a situation that didn’t call for that kind of reaction. However, the feeling went away in a few minutes as I played video games with my brother to pass the two-hour drive back home. Those kinds of gut clues are usually lost on distracted children.
I had to stay with my insanely religious grandmother and her husband for a night. My mother had a business meeting, and my brother and I were too young to be home at night by ourselves at that point. When we had to go to bed, I started to feel off. Not like I was sick, but like something was wrong. It lingered for only a second before it fled. That was the fastest I’ve ever fallen asleep.
I awoke sometime in the early morning, facing the wall, and I was frozen with the sense of utter terror. Have you ever felt like you were about to die and could do nothing to stop it? Well, I now know what that feels like. It’s a vice around your heart, and your body shaking so fast it feels like you’re floating. It’s an acute sense of your surroundings; a primal need for survival clashing with a relaxed acceptance. It’s a sensation unlike any other. A young child should never be able to comprehend such a feeling, or maybe they’re the only ones that can.
I held my breath, maybe of my own volition, maybe not. Yet there was no sound other than the peaceful ambiance of suburbia late at night. No breathing, but there was something.
The sense of eyes bore into my core. It was like the oppressive atmosphere itself wanted to cause me serious bodily harm. I knew that something was in my room, human or not, there was a second presence. I tried to fall back asleep, but my heart was racing, pounding in my chest, and my throat felt like it was on fire. I had a glass of water on the nightstand next to my bed. At that moment, refreshment was priority number one. Even in the fear of the moment, I thought it was silly to yearn for such a thing in a state of distress. Yet I felt as though that would allow me to slip into the realm of unconsciousness once more, even with the feeling of pure evil watching me. Over the course of a few minutes, I had rolled over carefully to get a good look of the rest of the guest room. I squinted my eyes, a feeble attempt to appear as though I turned over in my sleep. I regret every second I stared at that thing.
The room was softly illuminated by the streetlights that broke through the shutter-blinds. I could see it stuck out like a blackhole on a sunny day. At the back of the room, so tall it had to slouch just so it wouldn’t touch the ceiling, broad-shouldered yet thin, darker than pitch black… and moving. I could see it breathing, yet there was no sound. I thought I saw the reflection of what I can only assume was its eyes, or maybe just eye-socket indents, in the streetlights.
Its ‘eyes’ traced my every move, but never took a step closer. Like it was stuck in place. It wanted to be free. I could feel it crave freedom.
My throat was in so much pain, I can only assume it was not natural, and that thing had something to do with it. If only I could reach the nightstand, but every time I moved the thing felt like it was getting closer. After what felt like an hour of cat and mouse, I grew angry. I had no idea where this primal defiance came from, but it was enough to grab the glass, take a swig, and turn over towards the wall again. All the while I felt the thing rush me. I wanted to scream, but I felt as though if I made any noise I would surely die. But as I hid in the covers, feeling relieved the pain was gone, I passed out. I woke to myself looking at the ceiling, in daylight. The presence was gone, but I couldn’t get out of the bed without trembling, I stayed like that for half an hour or so, just shaking and reflecting. I have since stopped provoking spirits and other unworldly things. Don’t get me wrong, my love of everything dark hasn’t lessened. It’s just become more mature, more gravely serious.
Please, to whomever reads this, do NOT mess around with supernatural things. If you are going to do it, know what you’re doing! Be prepared to deal with the consequences, you might not end up as lucky as I was.