
BLANKET PULLED UNDER THE BED
My father is a practical businessman who has admitted to believing in spirits. These are a
couple of stories he has told me.
My grandfather left his family when my
father was very young. My grandmother remarried
and her new husband was very kind and protective
of her and her children. He was run over by a
car and tragically killed a few years later.
Afterward, my father says that at night when he
and his sister would be lying in bed at night
they would hear ,unmistakably, the familiar
pattern of their dead step-father's footsteps
make the round of the house going from room to
room. My father has said that no one in the
family feared the presence since they all knew
who it was and that it was only checking to be
sure the house was secure before retiring for the
night.
This next story is unrelated to the last.
My father returned home to San Antonio after
serving in the army in the mid 50's. He rented a
one-room, upstairs apartment from an older man
who lived in the apartment directly below. It
was a very small apartment with the kitchen,
dining, and bedrooms essentially making up one
large room. Not long after moving in the
landlord began to complain of the constant
walking and other noises heard at all hours of
the night coming from my father's apartment
upstairs. My father would on most nights go to
bed very early and rarely had visitors at all
much less at night. He told this to the landlord
who over time became more impatient with the
increasing disturbances and my father's
bewildered denials.
During this time my father says that he
would wake up most mornings curled in a ball and
freezing. The large heavy quilt he used to cover
himself would be lying on the floor beside the
bed. Taking this evidence along with the
landlord's complaints my father began to suspect
that he had begun to walk about at night in his
sleep.
One night my father was lying awake much
later than usual. The only light in the room
came from the fires lit on the gas stove for
warmth. As my father began to drift off to sleep
he felt the quilt he was covered with begin to
slip off the side of the bed. Half asleep he
pulled at the blanket and immediately felt a firm
and insistent tugging at the other end. At the
same time he felt, very close to his face, an
incredible rage from something that was obviously
bothered by my father's attempt to hold onto the
blanket. My father quickly released his grip and
the blanket slid quickly off the bed. He turned
on all the lights and climbed off the bed
noticing that the blanket lay half under it and
could not have been pulled under there by it's
own weight. I have asked my father several times
over the years whether he was sorry that he
didn't look under the bed that night and he
always says "No,".
Submitted from: Albert Villarreal, Texas, USA
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