The first experience that I will bring to you occurred when I was around 19 years old. My grandmother lived (still does) across the parish road from my parents' house. Often, and usually on specific nights of the week, she would call to tell us that someone was breaking into her house. She would hear sounds outside, hear footsteps in her attic, or smell tobacco smoke. She lives in the house that my grandfather built back in the 1970s, so nothing out of the ordinary occurred there.
Every time my grandmother called, either my dad or myself figured it was just the "boogeyman" and go walk or drive around her house to appease her. We always just said that maybe it was her imagination or maybe she dreamed a noise and thought it was real. My grandmother feared that it was a relative down the road that had mental issues and was waiting outside of her house to grab her up in the middle of the night. While I cannot guarantee that he never sat outside smoking a cigarette at some point, I can honestly say that what I saw one night definitely was not my insane relative.
The night was just like any other. I was home from college for the weekend and watching TV. My grandmother called my cell phone, I was more reliable than my dad for answering these late night "boogeyman" calls, and I could hear in her voice that something was wrong. She was whispering, yet her voice had an echo. With her trembling words, she told me that someone was banging on her bedroom window trying to get in. I thought it was the usual, but then I could hear the banging. The kind of banging that only comes from hitting a glass pane window. I immediately hung up the phone, grabbed my 12 gauge, and ran out to neutralize the situation.
I bolted out the back door so as to not throw any light and give away my position. I was certain that this was the real deal and someone was going to die that night. Using trees, bushes, the mail boxes, and the tractor parked in her driveway, I worked my way to her house from cover to cover, which was about 80 yards. My eyes were fixed on her bedroom window. It was pitch black dark outside her window. The kind of dark that engulfs you and leaves you disoriented. Her motion sense light should have been on by her bedroom, but it wasn't. I was crouched behind the tractor about 30 years from her window; well within range of a good load of buckshot.
What I saw next left me stunned and questioning things to this day. When I crouched around the tractor tire and drew down my gun on target, there was a white figure there outside of her window. The whole way getting to her house, I saw nothing, yet here was the white misty figure of an old woman with her hair in curlers or a woman in a nightgown and nightcap. There were no feet. She was looking in my grandmother's window. My finger firmly gripped the trigger, yet I hesitated. In the tiny instant that I saw this figure and took everything in, it disappeared. Well, not exactly disappeared. It swirled up into a ball kind of like how the Milky Way Galaxy looks swirled or a whirlpool. As soon as it swirled into a ball, the swirl spun tighter and tighter until it seemed to implode on itself. At that moment, the motion sense light came on like it should have been in the first place.
I have a few other experiences to relate, some at my grandmaw's house, others elsewhere. I will wait and post more stories later.
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