I have always been fascinated by ghosts, and reading ghost stories is pretty much a hobby for me. I have always refrained from letting myself say that ghosts do or do not exist, and I planned to go my whole life that way. A few years ago, all of that changed...
*DISCLAIMER* The first portion of my story is not directly related to my experiences, but I can't help but think that it is somehow related. Also, this will be rather long.
I have lived in my house all my life, and my family are the only ones to have ever lived in it. Up until I was 16, nothing unusual happened in the house.
In May of 2008, I had a dream. I hesitate to use the word "dream" as it was much more vivid than any other I have ever experienced and for other reasons I will go into as I get more into the story. In this dream, I felt myself leaving my physical body. I could look down at myself sleeping. Strangely, I was not scared by this, only a little perplexed. I felt myself floating upwards, getting faster and faster, and suddenly I was above the Earth. I looked around me and saw what I subconsciously realized was everything that was. I saw every planet, every star, and I somehow knew that this was everything there was.
I looked above me and was temporarily blinded by a bright light. As my eyes adjusted, I saw, seemingly just a few feet above me, everyone that I have ever known that has died. My two grandfathers stood at the front of the group, my Uncle Brian (who had passed just a few months before) stood a little behind them, and various other people that I was not close to but had passed stood towards the back. They all had the biggest smiles on their faces, and I could tell that they were in a place of such happiness that my mortal mind could not comprehend it.
I reached out to them, I wanted nothing more than to join them in that happy place. My grandfather shook his head, and in the thickest Irish accent I have ever heard, told me it was not time yet. With that, I fell at full force back to Earth and snapped back awake.
I took a moment to think about what had just happened. I never once questioned if what i saw was real or not. It had to be, it was just too vivid. On top of that, I had never met the grandfather that spoke to me, as he died several years before I was born. Somehow, I knew he was my grandfather. It's hard to describe how I felt after seeing this. I was comforted in knowing that I apparently was not going to die anytime soon. I chose to keep this experience to myself.
A few days later, I had another dream, equally as vivid as the first. In this one, I was running in a field of grass, feeling thankful that God or some other higher power had given me a guardian angel. Once again, I kept the experience to myself, and went on with my life. I was not at all frightened by these dreams, they were both very happy experiences and I am very glad that I had them.
It was the day after my second dream that strange things began occurring in my house. I was sitting in my room watching TV when a cup full of pens seemingly flew itself across the room with such force it chipped my wall. I tried to shrug this off, but I was a little disturbed that a cup that I was certain was sitting 10 feet away had flown such a distance, and hit the wall much higher than where it had been sitting.
Over the next few days, everything electronic went haywire in my room. My cellphone just stopped working in my room, the TV would turn itself on and off, and the computer would do the same. I chalked this up to faulty wiring, and even if it was supernatural, I figured it was my guardian angel letting me know he was around.
One night, I was staring out of the back door window when I saw a pair of glowing orange eyes in the woods looking at me. I turned my head away and looked again, and they were gone. At this point, I began to be concerned. Surely a benevolent force wouldn't do such a thing. Once again, I chalked it up to me just being paranoid over recent events.
Strange events began happening on a daily basis after that. I would hear loud footsteps on my front and back porches, and ornaments on the kitchen window would fling themselves across the room. Everytime I would put them back, they would fly back off in a few minutes. I determined to get my parents to notice these strange events.
That night, I woke my father up when i heard footsteps on the front porch. I let out a sigh of relief when he heard them too. Thinking it was a burglar, he dashed up and went outside, with me close behind.
My father won't admit it, but he saw it too. A black misty human figure jumped off the porch and disappeared in mid air. My father called the police, who combed the neighborhood and found nothing. When I called him to my room when something was going haywire, it would start working fine whenever he walked in. I was starting to get very frustrated by these events.
My only comfort at this time was I was in a rock band that had a very busy schedule that summer. My bandmates would often stay at my house for a couple days at a time, and nothing strange would happen when they were around. I really didn't know what to make of the events, other than I had determined that whatever was stalking me only manifested itself while I was alone.
For the first time in my life, I began to pray. I wanted to contact my deceased loved ones again and see if I could ask for help. I never did get my wish, but I determined that it must have worked to some degree, as I was never bothered while I was actually home alone-a fact I am very grateful for.
My experiences remained the same for about two months, the only difference being I would often get phone calls from strange numbers, and I would hear disembodied, unintelligible whispering on the line. Sometimes, i would hear the voices even when i was talking to someone.
My experiences reached a head at the end of that summer. One night, I was in my room when I clearly say a black mist form in the center of my room. I was, for the first time, genuinely afraid. I wanted to run, but I was frozen to where I sat. I watched as the mist floated over to the wall, where it took on a human shape, and then vanished. After that, I never had any strange experiences, and have not had any since.
Several months after my paranormal summer, I went to stay with my grandmother, as was custom for my Christmas break. I have never found out why, but that side of the family never talks about my grandfather-the same one that spoke to me in my dream. There were no pictures of him in the house, and I did not even know his name. The only thing I knew about him was that he died at some unknown time before I was born. The mere mention of him was taboo. When my grandmother went for a trip to the store, I went snooping through her old things, something I was not allowed to do while she was there. I found an old trunk that took some force to pry open, and in my opinion, I hit pay dirt. Inside was apparently the storage place of everything to do with my grandfather. I found his birth certificate, which indicated he was born in 1907 in Ireland. To me, it all made sense now. I learned his name was Eamon, and he had changed his name to Earl upon coming to America in 1940. The most striking thing was his pictures-pictures I had never seen before. The man in those pictures was without a doubt the man I had seen in my dream, and his Irish accent now made complete sense.
To sum up, I really have no idea what to make of my experiences, or if my dreams and my experiences are somehow related. I am just grateful they are over.