A Hawaiian Tale

My father is retired military, so at the time this occurred, we were living in Honolulu, Hawaii. I was 19 years old, going to college at the University of Hawaii (UH), and living off campus with my folks. We lived on one of the many military posts located on the island of Oahu. I've always believed in the paranormal and have had a "experiences" for as long as I can remember. But this one really stuck with me because it seemed to have a tangible history, and a purpose. I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain it better than that. Perhaps I should just tell the story.

We had only just moved into our post housing when I began to have some very odd experiences. And, of course, I was the only one having them. The first experience occurred about a month after we moved in. I vividly remember falling asleep in my bedroom while studying, but then waking at exactly 3:04 am. (I was not dreaming; of this, I'm positive.) I walked out of my bedroom and turned to go downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. As I did this I began to feel a harsh coldness rushing around me, encircling me. If I wasn't awake before this, I was now. There were no windows open, no fans blowing, no air moving in the house at all, yet I could distinctly feel the temperature drop at least 10 degrees around my body. As I was beginning to completely freak out, willing my vocal cords out of their paralysis, I literally felt a calmness envelope me. It was like being hugged by pure Love. Then I felt a "hand" smooth my hair back and caress my cheek, as if to apologize for startling me. And as soon as it all began it was over. But there was a heavy floral scent in the air, one that was not there before.

About 2 months after this happened, I was once again in my bedroom, asleep. And once again, I awoke at 3:04 am, this time with a start. I felt as if I'd been crying for a long time, my body heavy with sadness and exhaustion. Then movement to the right of my bed caught my eye. Standing there, cowering in a corner, was a little Hawaiian girl. I guessed she was about 4 or 5 years old. She was covered in filth and wore tattered clothes. Her long, dark hair was messy and knotted. I could "hear" her sobbing, although she never made an audible sound, but I could see the tears streaking down through the dirt on her sad little face. My first reaction was "how in the world did this kid get into the house". I began to ask her if she was lost, but then I realised that I could see through her to the pattern on the wall behind her. She was transparent!! I sat up in bed, terrified, and trying to remember what I'd heard about "making contact", I tried to talk to her. But all she did was sob. As I tried to move closer to her, she vanished -- just like that! One second she was there and the next, she was gone. I had a difficult time sleeping in there after that.

My next series of experiences, dealt with my bed. I would be downstairs, alone in the house, and hear scraping across the floor of my bedroom. I would go up to see what the noise was about, and my bed would be pushed 2-3 feet away from the wall. I'd move it back, turn to leave the room, and hear the scraping again. I'd turn around and my bed would be away from the wall again. "We'd" play like that for a few minutes, then I'd say something to the effect of "OK, no more, leave the bed alone" and it would stop for a while. This happened 4-5 times a day, whether I was alone or not, for a period of 2 weeks. Then it just stopped.

My final experience in our Hawaii home happened just before I moved out to attend graduate school back on the mainland. Once again, I was alone in my bedroom, preparing for upcoming graduation, when suddenly I began hearing a lot of commotion downstairs. I looked out of my window (because I could see our assigned parking from there) to check if my family had returned, but all the spaces were empty. However, the din below continued. Screaming, shouting, yelling, swearing, profanity, furniture being moved or thrown, you name it. It was like being in a war zone. I was scared to death that either 1) we were being robbed, or 2) whatever occupied the house had gotten violent, and I was the next target. But just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. After about 20 minutes, I went downstairs to check on the damage, but there wasn't any. Nothing broken, nothing moved, nothing. I went outside to wait for my family, not wanting to be alone in there anymore. (Could you blame me??) After that, nothing else happened. I went to grad school, and soon after, my family moved out because my dad retired.

I wasn't able to find out anything concerning the history of the post housing, but I think it was built after WWII. Perhaps that's what it was all about: the Pearl Harbour attack. Perhaps the military housing was built atop war-ravaged civilian Hawaiian homes.