This is actually 3 short stories that take place over 8 years. They are not intended as a fright fest. They are intended to make the reader think. Or wonder.
"I lived in a single level rancher in "Small town" British Columbia for about 8 months. It was built on, what many years before that, was a part of the still existing Indian Reserve. I had a neighbor four houses away who came over for coffee a few times(2or3)but no more than that. I took it a little personally but she always welcomed me into her home. I would find out why later. Upon moving into the house there was nothing out of the ordinary, but maybe a little uneasy.
Soon after, my then fiance became a member of a local Service Club, and spent little time at home. That combined with working in a winery for years culminated into a "problem", that will tie into the next two stories. Attached to the house was an old garage that was turned into a rec room. This was the room that the noises and some activity came from. He was never there to hear anything, and if he did he never said. It started with my son who was 7 at the time, telling me he was scared.
It had been about a month that we were there. I asked him what was scaring him but he could not say for sure "what" it was, just that he was afraid. I sat down beside him and proceeded to say his prayers with him. It was what my mother did with me so I thought nothing of it. But they didn't help him or me feel better. Later, I went to bed by myself and tried to say the prayers that I had said all my life.
I had heard noises in the back room previously to this, like thumps and scurrying of feet, creepy but tolerable. This night was different. The feeling of being threatened about halfway through my prayers was overwhelming. I stopped, curled up in bed, and lay awake till my fiance came home. After that I never felt comfortable in the house. I would try day after day to say my prayers to no avail. The feeling of danger became stronger until I finally gave up all together.
The worst visual and audible experiences that happened, for me at least, was the sliding glass door in the back room, slamming open, and on our last night in the house my fiance finally admitted to something that frightened him.
We were laying in bed with our headboard against the wall that belonged to the newer addition which was the back room, when from one corner of the "wall" to the other, not the floor, came what could only be described as a small child running very quickly along the wall. My fiance said "what was that?", and I explained that it was only a sample of what had been going on. He responded only with a, "well I'm glad we're leaving in the morning then". And my neighbor who wouldn't come over for coffee? She told me after we left, that she couldn't bring herself to go, "in there".
Shortly after moving into our new home we were married. The new home was great, and peaceful. However my husbands "problem" became worse. A year and a half later he had drunk himself into an early death.
He went into the Hospital on a Saturday afternoon and died Monday night. At about 5:45 am on Tuesday, just six hours after he died, he came to me in my sleep. He was standing there naked, and behind him was only darkness. He asked me what had happened and I told him he had died. "Nooo" he said bewildered. I said, I'm sorry sweety, "you died". "No"! he said in an upset voice. I told him, "Sweety, I'm sorry. You died, and you have too go to God". "NO"! He screamed", and I woke up terrified.
Although I doubted it at the time, I knew when I saw him for the last time, that he had not gone to God yet. It was more then just make-up. It was like he hadn't left his body yet. He was so angry and confused when he died that I believe he was not willing to let go of this life.
"For about three months after he passed away I would dream that he would get out of his coffin, and with his arms outstretched come towards me, every time though, he would be worse off physically. I prayed for him to find peace because it was all I could do for him. I still do. In 1999 I lost my mother.
If you've ever wondered about life after death, then maybe this will put your mind at ease.
I had a husband who died scared and angry and while lying in bed at night to this day, though not as often, I feel like someone punches me in the back, three times, hard. My mother passed away happy and at ease. Later in the night, after being punched in the back I feel a hand gently rubbing my back until I fall asleep. The exact same thing she used to do for me as a child. So you decide.
Paranormal? Or not.