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Bumps in the Night.
15 years ago
Every once in a while, things happen. Things that defy any kind of explanation, maybe even description. Fortunately for us, I happen to be a writer.
Four months ago, my father died.
We are not an unconventional family, nowadays, it seems more are going the way I have, and never really leaving home. In my case, I was simply the last one born. The seventh in my group. For the longest time, I have known its up to me to take care of my parents. Nothing I can do can keep them safe from the ravages of time. Dad was almost 93 this year, his last year. Mum and I have been experiencing a whole series of firsts.
Our first time back home, when we knew he was gone.
Sunrise the next morning.
The first time he wasn't there for his birthday.
The holidays.
Through the years, I have listened to others recount their experiences surrounding the death of loved ones. I've heard every kind of story imaginable. Tales of seeing them in dreams, talking to them, affirmations of every description.
What I experienced the other night was none of those things.
Imagine something, an event I could only describe as maddeningly terrifying. I only remember the end of whatever dream I was having.
Hands reached out of a rolling wall of smoke and flame, suspended just below my bedroom ceiling. Eyes glowing, fingers grasping, clawing at the air just inches above my paralyzed form lying in bed.
When I awoke, the room was full of what I can only describe as thick grey smoke. I thought for a moment that my house was on fire, but strangely, the smoke had no odor. I scrambled out of bed and turned on the light.
The smoke was still there! Over the next few moments, I watched it evaporate before my eyes. Actually, evaporate isn't the right word. It crawled! It literally crawled away, shrinking from the light, slipping away into the dark corners of my room, like a thin veil being pulled by an invisible hand. I stumbled out into the house, gasping as I collected my thoughts, trying to make some fucking sense of what I had just seen with my own eyes.
After a few more times peering back into the room and seeing nothing, I decided to go back to bed.
So, yeah. Time to build a fucking Proton Pack, I guess.
Four months ago, my father died.
We are not an unconventional family, nowadays, it seems more are going the way I have, and never really leaving home. In my case, I was simply the last one born. The seventh in my group. For the longest time, I have known its up to me to take care of my parents. Nothing I can do can keep them safe from the ravages of time. Dad was almost 93 this year, his last year. Mum and I have been experiencing a whole series of firsts.
Our first time back home, when we knew he was gone.
Sunrise the next morning.
The first time he wasn't there for his birthday.
The holidays.
Through the years, I have listened to others recount their experiences surrounding the death of loved ones. I've heard every kind of story imaginable. Tales of seeing them in dreams, talking to them, affirmations of every description.
What I experienced the other night was none of those things.
Imagine something, an event I could only describe as maddeningly terrifying. I only remember the end of whatever dream I was having.
Hands reached out of a rolling wall of smoke and flame, suspended just below my bedroom ceiling. Eyes glowing, fingers grasping, clawing at the air just inches above my paralyzed form lying in bed.
When I awoke, the room was full of what I can only describe as thick grey smoke. I thought for a moment that my house was on fire, but strangely, the smoke had no odor. I scrambled out of bed and turned on the light.
The smoke was still there! Over the next few moments, I watched it evaporate before my eyes. Actually, evaporate isn't the right word. It crawled! It literally crawled away, shrinking from the light, slipping away into the dark corners of my room, like a thin veil being pulled by an invisible hand. I stumbled out into the house, gasping as I collected my thoughts, trying to make some fucking sense of what I had just seen with my own eyes.
After a few more times peering back into the room and seeing nothing, I decided to go back to bed.
So, yeah. Time to build a fucking Proton Pack, I guess.
Don't know, I experienced none of these things.
ive seen recently a thing i can only describe as a shadow walker . a shadowy figure crawling across a wall and vanishing into the shadow of another room. the only reason i say it is it had a shadow of its own too
can you describe the eyes? im curious. it may not have had anything to dowith your dad the only way it would is if it had that feel t that pressence your dad had. that energy the man had when you were around him.
i know what it is liek to have a loss though mines not death its a lackign there of. i have an identical twin he is married and moved to another state. the loss of his physical pressence to me is like a loss of a limb always missing and sometimes waking thinking that he is there and remembering he is gone. .. like a part of me is missing something jus missing.
For the most part, the supernatural has been relegated to the realm of the ridiculous by the majority of our peers. They are unable to believe in anything they cannot readily explain with their limited view of existence, and anyone who challenges their preconceived notions is labelled a fool, or worse, a charlatan. Science has replaced God for them, and they worship it forcefully.
I'm pretty sure what I saw was some kind of etheric manifestation, and there was a familiar presence about it as well. I don't feel it was my dad, but something else. This was not the first time, nor will it likely be the last. I can tell the watchers out there that I was most definitely awake, and had been so for several seconds after I turned on the light. It took such a long time to disperse, that for a moment, I thought about calling Mum to come see it, but I instead took the few moments more to watch it carefully as it crawled out of sight against the light. I was too startled to be excessively curious… I didn't try to touch it.
maybe ask it to show its real form to you rather than the mysterious form it presents to you. it is trying to scare you but maybe you should find out why ? if it wants destruction you can send it away it from your prescience.
scared the hell out of me, i havent seen him since but things do move around on their own and my dresser door opened up on its own and it requires some force to open up
i aint gonna try to cover it up with science mumbo jumbo once you experience it yourself you lose all ability to cover thos e things up with scientific explanations
Thats when I saw it. About 15 feet away, floating tentatively down the middle of the hall, there was what I can only describe as a soft, dark spot… And absence of light and form, looking for all the world like it had been airbrushed into existence. A deep, dark, black fuzzy orb, like some etheric cotton ball, just floating there… And it was relatively quickly making its way to me! I pushed myself into the wall of the narrow corridor as it floated past, trailing a strange, sweet, musty odor behind it. I could not will my legs to move, not in any kind of organized fashion, anyway. I watched it float a few more yards, and slowly it sank to the floor and disappeared.
I scrambled down the hall, and tumbled head first down the long flight of stairs (there were 34 of them) in a chaotic, swimming motion. I clawed my way to the front door, and fumbled with the lock for what seemed like an eternity before I was able to get outside. I left everything I had dropped laying in the hallway and on the stairs, and locked the door behind me. The next day my supplies were waiting for me in a bag outside my studio- one of the others had found them and knew they were mine. Apparently she and several of the other artists had similar experiences there, and avoided the place at night. After that, so did I