As a child I always had a vivid imagination, I was always making up stories to entertain my parents and friends. I could come up with stuff at a drop of a hat. Stories, absolutely fictional stories solely for entertainment. At times people didn't know whether I was being serious or just coming up with a story.
If you've read some of my earlier stories you will know that I lived in a haunted house for 33 years of my life. I never really believed I was having experiences, I always passed it off as a figment of my imagination. As I grew older those figments became more real. The experiences I had increased. They got more intense, more scary, full moon nights were unbearable. At times I was glad to be out of the house. Certain areas of the house freaked me out so much I just would not go to those areas after sunset. I told my parents firmly that there was no way I was going to any of those areas. My parents never questioned me on those.
Now, growing up I always had a dog. Our dogs were not allowed in our bedrooms. When I turned thirteen I was allowed to have my dog in my room. My dog would just howl the entire night and try to get out of my room. I thought she was just being stubborn. After she died I got an Alsatian. My dog was like my shadow, but after she crossed six months and no longer needed me taking care of her she would just refuse to go to all the areas I hated, including my bedroom. She would not enter the garage, the servant quarters, the guest room and nothing could make her enter my room. I had to sleep in my room out of no choice. The guestroom was worse than my room. After she died the dogs we had would not enter my room.
Then I got my current dog, Nemo. Nemo stayed in that room with me for four months and then we moved out together. During that time, every time I left him alone he would scratch the door until his paws bled. He would whine incessantly, he was very restless at night. He would insist on sleeping on the bed with me. I would not leave him alone in the room very often but every once in a while I had to get out on errands for a few hours. When I returned there would be blood everywhere. He, too, would refuse to go into the areas I would dread. Whenever I had one of my paranormal encounters he would howl like death was near.
When I moved out my dog was normal again. No more scratching on doors until his paws bled, no more incessant whining, no barking at nothing, no craziness. People have told me that dogs can sense spirits and entities and I didn't believe that until I saw it with my own eyes.
This still does not compare to my Alsatian. I would go out on the terrace for a smoke. She would come out with me. She loved sitting outside with me at night. Sometimes she would just start barking at one corner of the terrace. Sometimes she would charge at a point, hackles raised and ready to attack. I would follow her gaze but I could never see anything. A chill would run down my spine and I would rush indoors. I have never ever seen a dog do that my entire life and it spooked me. She could see something there but I could only sense it. She was an amazing dog. She would not leave my side until I went into my room, then I was on my own. No dog really wanted to be in my room.
When I researched the area I discovered that our house was built on some burial ground. There was death in the area. Lots of unpleasantness. It used to be a vantage point, people were killed there. I've had so many ghostly experiences there I could write a book on it.
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