by NorthQuad » Tue Sep 22, 2009 6:01 pm
When I was about 12yrs old or so, I didn't believe much about much unless there was solid evidence proving it existed. Ghosts included.
That is until one day... I was down in the basement of an old house we were renting in a town called Wainwright. I was down there playing darts all by my lonesome. I was trying to escape the heat of a summer day and the basement was colder than a witches tit, so I was as happy as a fly on a turd down there.
About 20mins in to throwing darts, my 12yr old brain was thinking about everything but darts. I was basically in a trance until all of the sudden, as I was about to throw my 200th dart... I felt, well, what felt like a man about 4inches shorter than I, standing about 4ft behind my left shoulder watching me throw. I literally froze. My hand, with dart in fingers, sat next to my face. Every hair on my body stood up on end. The sweat was so emediate that it chilled me. I almost whimpered as I was so afraid of what could actually be happening. I wanted just to turn around and look but the intense fear held me in position like a rock.
Then, when I thought it would never end, the feeling of the "man" behind me changed. As if, whatever was behind me realized I felt it's presence. The energy I first felt from whatever I felt behind me was neutral until this point. But now, the energy turned to an almost desperate excitement. Like, whatever was behind me was desperate for me to acknowledge I knew it/he was there. That's when my fear turned to sheer panic.
Like a bolt of lightning had just shot up my ass, the fear released it's hold on me and all of the built up adrenaline in my body aloud me to make my way for the stairs like a cheetah on steroids. The darts I had in my hands were thrown in the direction of whatever it was I felt. (as if they were going to slow whatever I felt down or something) As I hit the stairs in record setting pace, I made sure to make as much noise as possible on my way up by slapping every stair with my hands hoping it would scare anything away that could possibly be following me.
And with the door to the outside world in sight, happy to see it was only the screen door holding me back from the safety of the bright and sunny backyard. What was surely to be a safe zone from all that would be scarey, I made my leap from the top stair to the door latch. BOOM! I made it BABY!
As my sock feet hit dry grass I turned around like I was all of the sudden Mr. Tough Guy, ready to take on what might have been purely my emagination. As I stood there, legs widened, arms held out to the sides with fingers spread apart for reasons I'm not sure of... I realized that for anyone that might be watching me twitch around like a scared monkey must think I've lost my damn mind. So I quickly gave the look around to make sure the coast was clear and I hadn't been busted throwing a fit in the backyard.
For the rest of the afternoon I refused to go back in that house. It was hot out. So hot that shade didn't help cool my body down. I didn't care. I waited outside for my mom and sister to get home. I had a lot of time to sit there and try to explain away what had just happened in my head. Nothing helped to change my mind about what just happend. While sitting there thinking, I promised myself that I would never tell my mom or sister what I had felt downstairs that day, as they would never want to sleep in that house again.
As they pulled in the driveway, relief entered and anxiety left me. I just put what had happend into the back of my mind and made sure it stayed there. Until one day... we were moving out of the house and back to the town where I had spent most of my 12yr old life in.
As I was running boxes out of the house and into the U-haul truck, my eldery female neighbour stopped me to say her goodbye's. She was a little sad to see me go as I was always happy to jump the fence and give her a hand with whatever I noticed her struggling with out in her yard. She wanted one last chat, to let me know she was thankful for the help I'd given her, without actually saying it.
But before final hugs, she told me about the previous people that lived in the house we were now moving out of. She told me it was owned by a couple her age. They owned it since it had been built and were nice people. She then had a look on her face like she was reluctant to finish telling me about the people that once lived in the house. I gave her a smile to show it was fine for her to tell me.
Turns out the old guy that lived there had his motorhome up on ramps in the driveway one day. He had his wife holding the brakes as he worked underneath it. Well, I guess something gave way and the motorhome rolled back and overtop of him. Killing him right there in the driveway.
I'm sure glad she told me about all that the day we were moving out.
When I was about 12yrs old or so, I didn't believe much about much unless there was solid evidence proving it existed. Ghosts included.
That is until one day... I was down in the basement of an old house we were renting in a town called Wainwright. I was down there playing darts all by my lonesome. I was trying to escape the heat of a summer day and the basement was colder than a witches tit, so I was as happy as a fly on a turd down there.
About 20mins in to throwing darts, my 12yr old brain was thinking about everything but darts. I was basically in a trance until all of the sudden, as I was about to throw my 200th dart... I felt, well, what felt like a man about 4inches shorter than I, standing about 4ft behind my left shoulder watching me throw. I literally froze. My hand, with dart in fingers, sat next to my face. Every hair on my body stood up on end. The sweat was so emediate that it chilled me. I almost whimpered as I was so afraid of what could actually be happening. I wanted just to turn around and look but the intense fear held me in position like a rock.
Then, when I thought it would never end, the feeling of the "man" behind me changed. As if, whatever was behind me realized I felt it's presence. The energy I first felt from whatever I felt behind me was neutral until this point. But now, the energy turned to an almost desperate excitement. Like, whatever was behind me was desperate for me to acknowledge I knew it/he was there. That's when my fear turned to sheer panic.
Like a bolt of lightning had just shot up my ass, the fear released it's hold on me and all of the built up adrenaline in my body aloud me to make my way for the stairs like a cheetah on steroids. The darts I had in my hands were thrown in the direction of whatever it was I felt. (as if they were going to slow whatever I felt down or something) As I hit the stairs in record setting pace, I made sure to make as much noise as possible on my way up by slapping every stair with my hands hoping it would scare anything away that could possibly be following me.
And with the door to the outside world in sight, happy to see it was only the screen door holding me back from the safety of the bright and sunny backyard. What was surely to be a safe zone from all that would be scarey, I made my leap from the top stair to the door latch. BOOM! I made it BABY!
As my sock feet hit dry grass I turned around like I was all of the sudden Mr. Tough Guy, ready to take on what might have been purely my emagination. As I stood there, legs widened, arms held out to the sides with fingers spread apart for reasons I'm not sure of... I realized that for anyone that might be watching me twitch around like a scared monkey must think I've lost my damn mind. So I quickly gave the look around to make sure the coast was clear and I hadn't been busted throwing a fit in the backyard.
For the rest of the afternoon I refused to go back in that house. It was hot out. So hot that shade didn't help cool my body down. I didn't care. I waited outside for my mom and sister to get home. I had a lot of time to sit there and try to explain away what had just happened in my head. Nothing helped to change my mind about what just happend. While sitting there thinking, I promised myself that I would never tell my mom or sister what I had felt downstairs that day, as they would never want to sleep in that house again.
As they pulled in the driveway, relief entered and anxiety left me. I just put what had happend into the back of my mind and made sure it stayed there. Until one day... we were moving out of the house and back to the town where I had spent most of my 12yr old life in.
As I was running boxes out of the house and into the U-haul truck, my eldery female neighbour stopped me to say her goodbye's. She was a little sad to see me go as I was always happy to jump the fence and give her a hand with whatever I noticed her struggling with out in her yard. She wanted one last chat, to let me know she was thankful for the help I'd given her, without actually saying it.
But before final hugs, she told me about the previous people that lived in the house we were now moving out of. She told me it was owned by a couple her age. They owned it since it had been built and were nice people. She then had a look on her face like she was reluctant to finish telling me about the people that once lived in the house. I gave her a smile to show it was fine for her to tell me.
Turns out the old guy that lived there had his motorhome up on ramps in the driveway one day. He had his wife holding the brakes as he worked underneath it. Well, I guess something gave way and the motorhome rolled back and overtop of him. Killing him right there in the driveway.
I'm sure glad she told me about all that the day we were moving out.