Tara C., MN, USA
I was a sceptic until I moved into a new house with my parents and little brother around three years ago. It's not the nature of my family to be that way, my dad's was involved in an exorcism, and my mom's constantly blathering on about how she can remember her past lives. My brother is only six now, so he can't really say anything about the paranormal.
It was the first night I was sleeping in the new house, and I didn't even have my bed set up yet. I was curled up in the middle of the floor, trying to get used to the surroundings. I'm an odd sleeper... I can sleep through storms, and people having fights, but small noises like pens or pencils scratching on paper always wakes me up. I must have finally fallen asleep, because I remember waking up to a sound like someone opening one of the boxes in my room that I hadn't even bothered to open before I went to bed.
I opened my eyes to someone I had never seen before. He was about seventeen or eighteen, wearing a white tee shirt, and sort of baggy dark blue jeans with a red bandanna tied around his left arm. His hair was dark, and his eyes the color of emeralds. If I hadn't woken up to him leaning over and studying me intently, I probably would have been attracted to him. However, I had just waken in a strange place with a strange person in the same room as me. Panic clawed up my thoat, and I opened my mouth to scream, it stubbornly wouldn't let one sound out. He smiled slightly, like the jerk was amused that he had scared the crap out of me! He raised one of his hands silently in greeting, he gave a little wave, and faded completely.
I think that that scared me more than anything. I couldn't think of any way to explain it. This was only the beginning.
I convinced myself that I had been dreaming. What other way was there to explain that?! I had to have been having some extremely bizarre dream. I tried to forget the experience, but it lurked in the back of my mind.
A couple weeks later I woke to a slight pressure on the side of my bed, I wasn't bothered, thinking it was my dog deciding to sleep in my bed. Then I remembered that I had shut my bedroom door before I had gotten into bed, and there was no way the dog could have jumped onto my bed. My eyes flew open, and there he was, sitting on the side of my bed. This time I didn't panic as much as I did the first time I had seen him. Involuntarily my hand rose in the air, and my fingers wiggled, which is about as close as I ever get to really waving.
He smiled hugely at me and waved the exact same way he had the first time, then vanished into thin air. I decided that I had to figure out what was going on. I knew no one could have died in our house, because the people we bought it from were the original owners.
I did the only thing I thought might help in my search. I went to the library and started checking the newspapers. It was pretty easy, you know, one of the computers that has all the newspapers going back a ways on file. It took a while, and I had gotten all the way to papers from the 1940s. I was about ready to give up when a picture caught my eye... It was the guy standing with a younger girl and boy.
The headline was what shocked me. "Boy Dies in Hunting Accident." His name was Isaac Jacobs, the girl and boy in the picture were his younger siblings. Apparently what had happened was Isaac had been out hunting with his father, someone thought they had shot a deer, but Isaac had been shot by mistake.
Tears streamed down my face as I read the entire article. He had forgotten his red jacket, and had tied a red bandanna around his arm. The man that had killed Isaac had shot and wounded a deer, and only glimpsed a flash of red, and assumed it was the deer's blood.
What also shocked me was that the accident had happened in roughly in the same area as my house. Only back in the 1940s there were no houses, it was all woods and fields.
That night I woke to the slight pressure on the side of my bed. He was sitting there, and a single tear slipped out of his eye and rolled down his cheek. I smiled slightly, and waved my half wave, and he smiled back sadly, like he knew that I had found out his story. He didn't wave this time, just faded away...
I don't know why Isaac picked me, I just know he did. Maybe he missed his younger sister, and I happened to be there. At the time, I was about the same age as his sister had been when he died. Every few weeks, I'll wake up to him being there, but it doesn't startle me anymore. Like I said, I don't know why Isaac picked me, I just know he did... and now I kind of think of him as my guardian angel.