As in my first story I have posted, this is after we had moved out of that trailer and a few years after. I was about 9 years old living in an apartment with just my mom and me. My dad had given me a bunk bed that his great aunt said I could have. At first I was overly excited about it. The bottom was a futon, which I had used more as a couch, and slept on the top.
The first few nights sleeping on it was fine, it could have also been a week or so. Though soon I had started to get a bad vibe from it when I would lie down to sleep. Trying to not think any thing of it, I would curl myself up and tuck the blanket in around me to sleep. After a few nights of doing the same thing, I was at peace. Though in a week or so the feeling came back.
One night after saying my goodnights to my mom I went and laid down to sleep. The feeling of being watched came back, and this time with voices. I would lie there, stunned and frightened listening to the conversations I could hear. They were not the nicest conversations either; sometimes I couldn't even make out what was being said.
I remember one night lying in bed, I was woken up by the voices, and it was as if they were on the bottom bed conversing. This time I was able to understand them, the most violent things were being said, they wanted to harm me. I could hear all these threats; I couldn't even move I was so scared. I want to call out to my mom, but my mouth was too dry and wouldn't utter a sound. I had to continue to listen to this until I fell into a sleep. Though even in my sleep I would have nightmares and wake up in a fright not being able to move in case something was still there. After some point I was able to climb down, though more like jumping, and ran to my mother to sleep with her.
This kept happening for several nights and I had told my mom who told my dad. At first they wanted to send me to get checked out to make sure I wasn't "mental" which I know I am not. My mom had said a final no to having that done, and let me sleep with her most nights, but when I did have to sleep in my room on that bed, I was terrified because the voices were more violent if I was gone for a period of time.
After months of my mom having to listen to me cry she finally got rid of that bed and got me a new one. Relief fled through me when I slept in it, noticing there was no more voices to torture me.
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