Tell Me What You Think.

Okay, well, this is inspired by a rather disturbing dream I had last night and my interpretation of it. Before I get into the dream, I want to give some background stories on the paranormal experiences I've had in this house.



White, Glowing Figure
One time, when I was sleeping in my room (facing the wall) I felt a presence nearby. I rolled over, half awake, and saw a very large, very bright, white, glowing figure standing over me, floating off the floor. I was scared shitless, even though the presence did not seem sinister, and I figured that if I just rolled over and went back to sleep it would leave me alone. I did just that, and it went away.

The First Footsteps
When my step dad first came to this house, he ******** it and remodeled it back in 1991. At one point, he went into the basement to have a beer. He heard someone come into the house on the first floor, walk across to the stairs, and go up the stairs to the second floor. My step dad thought it was his brother-in-law, so he went up to the first and second floors to greet him. There was no one there.

The Next Footsteps
One night, most of the family (including me) went to a concert and we left behind my nine-year-old cousin, Hayden, who was staying with us for the summer. I had called up a friend, Katie, to babysit him while we were at the concert. I never told her anything about my experiences in the house. When we got back from the concert, the first thing she said was, "I think your house is haunted." Both her and my cousin heard footsteps go upstairs and start opening and closing the bedroom doors. There was no one there but them!

Black Mist
One night, a friend slept over my house. She was in my bedroom. There are two twin beds, but my room is sort of freaky, so she crawled into mine. Right before our eyes, this faint, dark mist appeared over the other bed and formed into the shape of a person (size of a child) laying down on the bed, as if he/she were sleeping.

The Door
This is possibly the most frightening experience. When I was thirteen, a friend and I were at home alone sitting at the dining room table near our basement door. All of a sudden, the door started shaking violently, as if someone were rattling it and banging on it from the other side. My friend and I got away from it pretty quick, but the dogs went nuts. Thinking it might have been an animal that had somehow gotten into the basement, I opened the basement door and let my dogs go charging down there. No one there.

Now that that's settled, here's the dream.


Well, this dream started off the same as any other dream of mine (which are usually weird and unexplained). As a side note, before I begin, I want to add that I am overweight, but in my dream I was smaller/skinnier. Also, just so you know, I never have nightmares. Ever. My nightmares in childhood consisted of me waking up depressed or saddened - nothing downright horrific. Keep that in mind. On to the dream.

I begin at my grandmother's house in VA. She isn't home, and one of my good friends Connor came over to hang out with me. I start to call Adrianne (my girlfriend in real life) but dial too fast without looking and get the wrong number. The girl who answers the phone just starts talking to me randomly, and the three of us hit it off right away. I thought she was pretty cool! Well, we decided to go and meet her, and we found out that she lives at the end of my dad's street. We leave to see her, but from this point on, Connor doesn't accompany me for the rest of my dream.

I drive to her house in my car and meet her. She's pretty cool. She doesn't really answer any of my questions, though. I ask her age, and she jokes that she's, "Thirty-six, y'know, working out gets you far," but I know she appears to be about nineteen years old. She doesn't tell me her name either.

As I leave her house, a car is waiting in her driveway for me. It's the police, but a special kind of police that only arrest young juveniles that need help - like kids from the ages of eleven to fourteen. I thought this was odd, because I'm eighteen, but didn't argue. They arrested me and took me to some sort of juvenile correction facility, where all the kids seemed aloof about the visit but no one really spoke. I know at one point I had to visit a doctor in the facility for a routine check-up, but I don't remember anything about the doctor's visit.

I walk all the way back to that girl's house, but she doesn't seem to want to talk to me, or isn't home. For some reason, Jeff Foxworthy (and his wife), who were friends of the family or something, had decided to clean out my car and fill it up with gas. My mind narrated that part of the story, saying, "They even filled it up with gas and filled the tank. Wait, you can't say both - it's one or the other, they both mean the same.... Shut up." At that point, my car was in the driveway of my mother's house in CT, although I didn't think any of this location skipping was odd while I was dreaming.

Anyway, I try to drive my car back, but for some reason it's changed. It's about only half the size, and it has no top, like a mini-convertible. I'm almost too big to even get in it. When I sit in it, My knees come up over the sides of the wheel, and the car sinks and drags along the ground beneath my weight. I try several times to get out of the car and adjust it somehow, but no matter what I do, I can't get comfortable. I keep wondering why our family friends Jeff Foxworthy and his wife altered my car, but I don't want to complain because they've always been so nice to us.

Somehow, I make it to an attic, where Jeff Foxworthy is going through my stuff and cleaning out everything. They seem abnormally untalkative, but I don't try to converse either. I just sort of hang around and play with this cool baseball hat I found in the attic. Nearby, against the attic wall, the news is playing and catches everyone's attention. The three of us approach the TV. The news anchor, a woman, is heard talking about a 12-year-old boy who was just gruesomely murdered by a doctor. They said he butchered the boy. The TV showed pictures of the boy's x-rays after they found the body, showing how the doctor had inserted a large syringe into the boy's abdomen until it came out threw his back. The doctor then took our the syringe and shoved the boy's hand inside of the deep cut, wrist-first. And that's how they found the boy. I remember thinking, "Wow, that's disturbing," and I kept glancing at the two adults beside me. One minute, it was Jeff Foxworthy and his wife, both looking a little sick about this. The next it was my grandparents in their house. Then it was Jeff Foxworthy and his wife again.

I looked back at the TV, and that's when everything went wrong. They showed the deceased boy's face in a special kind of x-ray. I froze. My entire world around me crashed. The people next to me no longer existed, neither did the attic, it was just that boy's face. My mind's eye kept zooming in on his face, and I could hear disturbing music somewhere far away. The feeling was horrific, beyond my ability to describe. He looked so innocent and unjustified, like he knew about the bad thing that had been done to him, even though he was dead and his face never changed. It was as if the dead boy KNEW I was looking. Like he wanted me to see this. He wanted me to see this, and to know how horrible it was. My mind's eye kept zooming in, the horrific music, everything around me had disappeared, I couldn't move, oh my god oh my god oh my god - and then, a deep, elongated exhale right in my ear. And I woke up.

I hear my breath hitch as I wake, and at first I don't move, but then that image sears itself into my mind. Immediately, I hear my heart pounding in my ears at a very quick pace, and my breathing becomes very heavy. It's evident I was scared shitless. I opened my eyes, and they were as wide as saucers, and by then I was wide awake. I ended up calling my girlfriend right after, at 3:41 AM, and I refused to go back to sleep until the sun rose. Never has a dream scared me so much in my life.


The more my girlfriend and I thought about it, the more this started to sound like a message. What if a spirit was trying to tell me something through this dream?

We began to speculate that the deceased spirit of a 12-year-old boy who died unjustly is trying to speak to me somehow. It just makes sense.

Why was I so small in the dream? The size of a 12-year-old boy. Why don't I remember the doctor's visit? He either doesn't remember or didn't want to show me (thank god!). Why, after the doctor's visit, did no one seem to notice me or talk to me? I (the boy) was already dead. Why did the news scare me when I saw the face? That was how the boy found out he died, and how it felt. I know that sounds odd, but that's exactly what it felt like when I saw that picture.

So why would he pick me to tell? I have an answer for that too.

First of all, I have an interest in psychology, so I look up psychopathic murder cases and read about them all the time. I know murderers, and I know how they think and act.

I also have an interest in the paranormal, ever since I started to speculate that my house was haunted, I did some research. I have an extensive knowledge of entities, spirits, poltergeists, etc. and I'm not as afraid of them as I used to be.

I am also a very sensitive person. I can get very emotional, and I'm compassionate. I relate to others very well. I rarely cry for things associated with my own life, but I cry easily with movies and stories about bad things happening to others because I feel for others so easily.

Also, the last reason has to do with the experience with the door. Anndei and I seem to think that the boy's spirit was banging on the door, wanting to be let in by his parents (who knew he was dead) and he was reliving the memory. I OPENED the door - so, he trusts me.

What do you think?

I'm not saying that all of this is 100% certain of paranormal activity. This is just what I believe. It fits. Please, give me your feedback!

Pan Pan
3 Responses Jul 3, 2007

very interesting. i would look into some local or even national news stories that may relate and see if you find any similarities. Perhaps you may be able to help in solving a case or just know that you do in fact have a gift.

PLEASE READ THIS!!! I know it!!!! The boy was 12 you looked the size of someone 12, he was murdered at the doctor.... YOU don't remember anything about the doctors visit. no-one seemed to talk to you. And the boy's face looked like someone you knew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WERE THE BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THATS THE MESSAGE EVEN THOUGH YOUR (FEMALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know alot about this stuff...... And i'm 10.... (hit the wrong age.... wont let me change it now.....)

hey now that ive read all that, i think youve got a point, just remember what i told you, and be carefull. loveand lght,xx