Everyone who read my previous story then you know about the little boy that I sense every time I go into my mom's room. Well people commented and told me maybe I should try and see what he wants maybe he wanted to communicate? Well I took your advice and did that and this is what happened.
I sat in my room listening to some music when my mom called me in her room. I was reluctant to go because I really hated feeling the little boys presence it really creeped me out! So I go to her room and right before I hit the doorway the feeling hit me but I decided that I wasn't going to back down so I stayed in my mother's room for a while just having general conversation. The whole time I was talking to her I just had this feel that someone was staring at my back. So I turn around to see this small black figure slip into my mom's closet. Not going to lie it spooked me and my mom even noticed how I looked. I left her room shortly after and everything that I felt left.
When I got back in my room I remembered what the people told me to do. So I cut off all the lights and just sat on my bed with my back facing a corner. I stated "Come on! You want to talk well I'm listening!" But nothing happened and I sat there another 5-10 minutes before I decided to sleep. This is when everything really began!
In my dream well at least I thought I was dreaming. In my dream I woke up in my bed and I heard what sounded like my sister crying. So I called to her but no answer, and the crying kept going. I got up to go check up on her but she was in her bed asleep. I'm standing there thinking how can she be crying if she's sleep? And then I heard what sounded like my sister crying again this time sounded like it was coming from my mother's room. So I don't know why but I had this bright idea of let me go check it out. I walk into my mother's room and turn on the light and what I saw freaked me out the most. I saw this little Indian boy in his little old Indian clothes standing over my mom. He was holding a hatchet that was dripping with blood and when I looked at my mom she was cut in half from her jaw to her pelvic bone. I instantly started to cry and while I was crying I started to realize that that crying I heard earlier sounded like me crying at that moment. "Why I screamed?" the little boy just turned his head and laughed. I ran out my mom's room to my sister's to see if she was alright too but when I got to her room there was no door. I turned back around and there was the little boy walking towards me.
"She's mine!" he said to me. I just stared at him and yelled back "who?" "She's mine I have her blood." he said again this time he showed me the hatchet I saw he had before. I ran to my room and shut the door and locked it. I started crying even more, I jumped on my bed and started praying loud. Then in my ear I heard "You can't have her, you lost her and know she will stay with me!" "No she's my mom." I screamed back pointing in the direction towards my mom's room. He took his hatchet and swung it cutting me on my arm. I screamed from the pain and he just stood there and smirked, turned around and walked away. Next thing I know I wake up on the floor in my room and the first thing I notice was the cut on my arm. Identical to the one he gave me. I quietly cried to myself for at least an hour holding my arm.
My mom finally came into my room to wake me up for school and she saw my arm and she freaked asking me all these questions like am I suicidal? And why would I want to cut myself? I tried to tell her what happened but she just kept insisting that I did it to myself. She drove to the hospital and on the way this is what really freaked me out the most. My mom asked me why did I come into her room last night. I told her I did in my dream but she said no my physical body was in her room. She said that she had just turned off the lights and got in the bed when I walked in turned the lights, and started crying. Then she said I kept staring at the ceiling asking why, and then I finally just ran out her room and into mine. When she said that it left me thinking was I really sleeping?
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