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- being shoved clear across the bed when i was alone in the house
- my "imaginary" friends, jackie, who could move inanimate objects and poke me, and lisa, who could talk to me
- a city blackout conspicuously timed with brooke and my game of bloody mary
- the nice lady who protected me from the bad shadow in my room, put out grease fires, physically attacked any man that came in the house (e.g. pulling back their fingernails or shoving them into walls), and hid mom's keys (e.g. under a full coffee can on top of the refrigerator)
- my premonitions:
- three weeks before seeing mr. tom's basement, i had a dream about it. in reality, it was a mess, an episode of hoarders really, but in the dream it had been super clean and organized. in this dream, i had found a ouija board covered in blood and used it to talk some murder victim. worst part is, my little sister even recognized it was the same basement by the distinct oversized shower and antique bookcases (just like i described them to her) before i even said anything.
- after my popo died, i had a dream that i was fishing with him, another long deceased relative i somewhat remembered, and a little boy i'd never met, and they all told me things to tell my mother. when i woke up i told her, and she figured it was my way of coping until i told her about the little boy. apparently he was my god-uncle or something who died when he had been a kid, and i'd never even been told about him before.
- when looking at new houses, my mom and i were driving so that i could give an opinion on the house she wanted to buy. i wake up when we start to enter the neighborhood, not even reaching the house yet, and i start crying and tell her we have to turn around. she stops the car and asks why, and i describe the house in detail before saying there's a lady haunting it who's buried in the back yard, sometimes she stands at the window just looking at the spot, and she doesn't want us there. mom hadn't told me there was a cemetery in the backyard, but she's like, "okay, we won't go in." we're on the street passing a dozen identical houses when i start crying harder and saying, there. that's the one. she died there. mom tells me after we're back on the highway that the house i pointed out was the one we were suppose to look at.
- the music box, record players, and radios at granny's turning on by themselves ("the funny thing is, it only happens while you're here though," she says)
- being "possessed by a demon" that our roommate summoned
jul 26 2013 ∞
apr 29 2014 +
apr 29 2014 +