In the following recount of my experience fake names will be used for my family members to protect their identity.
From as long as I can remember strange occurrences have taken place. Strange things would always happen that couldn't be overlooked. When I was younger my Nana lived in a small town called Howard and whenever my siblings and myself would go to visit her my older brother (let's call him Joseph) would always sprint right out of the car excited to see his friend. His friend was imaginary.
Joseph used to tell me all kinds of stories about his friend, he told me his name was 'Poom'. He was just a little older then me (I was about 5 at the time), and he didn't like our Nana. I couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't like our Nana, so of course I asked him why? He explained to me that he didn't like that Nana vacuumed the house everyday so he would simply turn it off but she consistently turned it back on. I told Nana everything Joseph told me and she said that she just had a faulty vacuum. Years passed, and Poom was forgotten.
My cousins then moved from another state so they could be closer to the family. One day we were having a barbeque at Nana's and I went inside to grab something (I can't remember anymore) and I walked past my cousin talking to herself. Well, so I thought. Knowing me the curious little brat I was, I sat outside the bedroom and listened, giggling to myself. The giggling soon came to an abrupt stop when my cousin (let's call her Sophie) became furious in the conversation and yelled "No, Poom, I'm not going to do it!" Poom. I remembered that name. I rushed in the room and for just a second I saw a small little aboriginal boy sitting cross legged on the chair.
To this day Sophie won't tell me what Poom told her to do and Joseph has no recollection of him whatsoever.
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