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The Little People

Leslie Cooke, NC, USA
May 2004

The house I grew up in, where my parents still live, has three levels. The bottom level consists of a large den, a bathroom, and a study, where my mom has her computer. On the middle level is a kitchen with a screened porch off the back, and a living room. The top level consists of three bedrooms, a hall and a bathroom. My brother is ten years older than me, and was still living at home when what I am about to relate to you occurred.

This took place in August of 1988, when I was 14 years old. It gets hot here in August, and even with air conditioning, the heat would rise to the top level of our house, and it would be too hot to sleep up there. If my brother got too hot, he would take his pillow downstairs to the living and sleep the rest of the night on the floor, in front of the air conditioning vent. When I was about 12 years-old, I started doing this too.

On this particular night, I woke up about 3 am, and it was so stuffy in my room I couldn't go back to sleep. So I grabbed my pillow and headed for the vent downstairs. My mom always left a florescent light over the kitchen sink on at night, and it wasn't totally pitch dark, so I didn't turn on any lights. A minute later I was making myself comfortable on the floor in front of my favorite vent, which was beside my dad's recliner on the far side of the living room.

I was just about to drift off to sleep, when I had the strong sensation that I was being watched. So I opened my eyes, and right in front of my face was a small white face, staring down at me. I sat up, and saw that the entire room was full of little people. They were all solid white, but not transparent, and none of them was over about 3 feet tall. Several of them were climbing all over the sofa, and one of them was standing in front of the TV, staring into the dark screen. There were at least 10 or 12 of them in all. When I sat up I had startled the one who was in my face, and it jumped up and started backing away from me. At this point, the others realized that I was awake, and they all took off running down the stairs toward the den.

Surprisingly enough, I wasn't really frightened. I had more of a feeling that the beings were mischievous, rather than evil, and you can imagine how curious I was. I jumped up myself, and went to the head of the stairs that led down to the den, where I turned on the light. Of course, there was nothing there. My first thought was to follow them downstairs, but then an uneasy feeling kept me from doing so. I turned around and went back up to my room, where I closed the door and slept for the rest of the night.

The neighborhood where my parents' house is was a large farm years ago. We think their house must be close to where the farmhouse was, because the old well is in their back yard. It wasn't unusual back then for people to have large families, and the survival rate of the children was not that great. I am convinced that these little beings came from out of the past somehow, to see what had happened to their home.

Leslie Cooke, NC, USA
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