This story took place in W. Sacramento, CA. I had practically grown up in this home from ages 1-13 years old. Sorry, my story is a little long. Hope you enjoy reading it.
I had always been afraid in this home, but it was all that my family could afford at the time. Growing up had been very hard. My father started changing; he was becoming very abusive and drank all the time. He would come home intoxicated and become very abusive towards the family. He also started cheating and not come home for days.
Between the age of 4-5 (as far as I could remember) I remember waking up one night with the bedroom door wide open. I was lying there looking in the dark hall way, I started hearing a lot of whispers coming from the hall. I tried waking my younger brother up (he was lying beside me) he was around 2-3 years old, but he fell back asleep. I was so scared. I plucked up enough courage to jump out of bed and to run and close the door. I fell asleep with the lights on that night. Other times when I wake up in the middle of the night the door would be wide open again and I would see a shadow towards the living room with a bright glow around it. The shadow looked like a shadow of someone in the army or something and on its shoulder was a shadow of a rifle (I have seen this shadow at night on many occasions in the living room in the middle of the night).
I would sometimes wake up with my necklace wrapped around my neck so tight like it was choking me. Everyday I had the feeling of wanting to die at such a young age, which until this day I could not explain.
When I got a little older, 8-9 years old, my oldest sister who was around 15-16 years old, started getting very sick. She vomited all the time and was on bed rest. She notified my mom one day that, while she was lying in bed, she saw 3 shadows all around her bed, pulling her blanket. She started getting bruises all the time on her body and scratches. It got so bad that my mom had asked a monk to stay with us. He ended up sleeping in her room and my older sister bunked with my second older sister. He lived with us for about a year or so. Things started getting better. My oldest sister got better also.
Years passed, we moved. Once we left that place, my father was a father again. He did not drink anymore and was a very mellow person. It was as if he did a 3-60 and turned around as if nothing had happened.
Till this day, I'm now 31 years old, I still have nightmare about that place.
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