When I was nine years old, I had heard of ghosts, and was stuck between a believer and a non-believer. I loved scary stories and would love to have had one to tell. Little did I know my wish would soon come true...?
It was one of my favorite nights, dark and scary. At about 2:30, maybe 3:00, it has been so long I have forgotten. I got off the computer from playing some games, and walked into our living room. As I entered, my dad was sleeping on the couch, the television was on, and my sleeping bag was on the floor. I walked over to my sleeping bag, and lay down, but decided against the idea. And remembering my mother's offer that if I got scared I could go back and spend the night with her. So I got back up again with a sigh and turned the television off.
Only then did I remember my fear of the dark, but too late. I started to get really terrified, my breathing came heavy and I stood rooted to the spot, too much in shock to move. But then the thought of the safety of the comforter and the warmth of my mother's voice made me gather the courage to head to the bedroom.
As I scurried back to my parents' room, voices started to circle around me. They enclosed me in a tight circle, fear was running through me. I did not know what to do, so I did the only thing that came to my mind. What I had seen in movies, on television, and read in my books. I ran.
After my hand finally found the curved doorknob, I turned the knob down and shoved the door open. I ran over to where my mom was, jumped on the bed and started calling my mom's name. I said my mom's name so many times it's a wonder she did not wake up. But then, I tried to console myself, my mom was a heavy sleeper sometimes.
So I dove under the covers and hid there. Eventually I fell asleep.
When I woke next morning the first thing that came to my mind was the experience I had had last night. And all over again the fear came running through me like ice water.
I sat up and threw my blankets off. I took deep breaths and finally put my feet on the carpet and ran through the bedroom door.
I waited until my dad had wondered outside to mess around with his car, and I then told my mom about the voices.
After I had finished telling her, she asked me what they were telling me to do. I could not tell if she was joking, or was serious. But then I told her that it was not like the Amityville Horror. And I could not make them out, they were like muffled. I know though that she believed me.
Almost 5 years later after that chilling event, I still feel scared to be awake myself. And am a full believer in that another world exists from apart from ours. I still will sometimes hear voices, but after my mom told me about how I used to say that angels stood around my bed, I have to wonder if the voices were angels. That they were not something evil, but something good. I will never know though, and that realization makes me feel sad.
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