This story takes place in, St. Louis, Mo, the house I grew up in. If you have read my bio, then you know that the house I grew up in had a lot of poltergeist activity and we also experienced a lot of paranormal activity.
First I would like to explain that we had an aunt that loved to tickle us kids. Sadly, my aunt passed away a few years before this incident. This incident took place when I was only about nine years old, if I recall correctly. My parents had gone to a dance that night. My sisters, Ana and Rosa, and my toddler cousin Anna Laura and I all slept in the living room floor. We laid out covers and made a bed. We were all laying in a row it was: Rosa on the edge, then me, Ana, and Anna Laura. '
In the middle of the night, my sister woke me up and asked, "Jasmine are you tickling me?" I answered no, Rosa, I am sleeping..."
She did not believe me and got really angry and said, "If you don't stop tickling me, I am going to make you go upstairs and sleep alone..." That would have been terrible since we were all terrified to sleep alone in our house.
I ignored her because I knew I wasn't tickling her, so I turned back over and went to sleep. Again, I'm not sure how much later since I was sleeping, but she woke me up again. She whispered, "Jasmine! That hurts! Stop tickling me!" I reacted and said, "Rosa, I am not tickling you I swear..." I was so afraid since I had no idea who was tickling my sister and I was afraid of sleeping upstairs alone.
It wasn't Ana or Anna Laura, because they were passed out. I cried to my sister and said, "Please don't make me go upstairs. It wasn't me..." At that, she believed me and said, "Fine go to sleep..." I think she realized that she was just scaring me, so she stopped.
We woke up the next morning to Rosa's cries. She cried that her stomach hurt so badly, as if someone punched her. My mother happened to be in the kitchen and walked in on her crying. My mother asked what happened, and my sister told her that all night someone was tickling her and it hurt so bad that she couldn't sleep.
She explained that she had blamed it on me and then realized I wasn't the one doing it. My mother asked her to lift up her shirt, and when she did, we were terrified. My sister's ribs had red finger and handprints on them.
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