Story Of My Life

Ever since I was young my mother would say that I would sit down in an empty room (we moved a lot due to various uncontrollable situations) and talk to something that she could not see. I never found it weird or anything, I would talk to this entity who I called "Rebecca". I have done research trying to find out who it and if it was something paranormal or if my three year old brain was creating an imaginary friend.

I could strangely remember all my episodes with otherworldly people and until today, I find someone who has a seen a green man. I was about four years old, subtract or add some months. I would love to run to the backyard and head over to this large red rose bush near the fence. On one of those days, I remember not seeing the fence, or the large plum tree that divided the yards. I saw a large field, a green man, well dressed in a suit (no idea on the era), carrying a bunch of flowers to something on the other side of the field. It looked at me, and slowly disappeared. I never saw it again.

Years pasted, and now I am 16 years old. Ever since I was 12ish, I have been seeing some weird stuff, especially when we lived at our previous residence. Some of my highlights: seeing a person in a black robe with a red sash in my sisters room while talking on the phone, talking on the phone with one of my best friend late at night and hearing a voice say clearly "Watch out", seeing a white cat with no right eye walking by my room in the hallway, waking up every night for an entire winter at exactly two various times 3:00am or 4:32am, having extremely hot or cold hands hugging would be the best word from behind when I sleep, and my personal favorite having dreams that would tell that on so and so date something major will happen in a hospital.

But we moved out of the home, now I spend a lot of my time in a warehouse that my parents have owned for a long time. Here, I have been told that whenever my mother tells me something like she saw a shadow run into the small kitchen area and she hears the refrigerator open, I start explaining what happened in a creepy voice, and I don't remember ever saying that.

Unfortunately, last year my father passed away and my mom says that he is helping us. I don't think it him; I would know I would have seen him before. I remember that my father told me when I told him about my experiences, he apologized to me. I didn't understand what he meant. And to this day, I don't completely know what he meant. In this last year, I have learned something important about him: I was raised to be Roman Catholic by my dad, yet he participated in rooster slaughtering. He believed in the saints, but not in Jesus Christ.

I don't understand anything that is going on. I keep on waking up around those times and worst of all: I have developed some sort of fear of the dark that I have never had before. Before I would feel at ease in the dark, now I don't. All I want is some clarification on what the story of my life is.