The Not Quite Alone Night
This happened a while ago, but I still remember it really well...
A few months ago, my dog died. she was my first dog ever, and was pretty young. I always felt like we could communicate in some way. I would get really upset and cry sometimes because of my older brother. When I cried, I would run outside and hug my dog. She would stay still, wag her tail, and whimper on my shoulder. It was really sweet, especially when I felt really bad.
After she died, I was really lonely at nights, because she would sleep right next to my face a lot at night. I wanted to be able to see her again so badly, then this happened:
One night, I was crying myself to sleep, because I missed my dog (her name was Copper) and I eventually dozed off. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I was laying on my back, and I was really hot and sweaty, so I flipped my leg out onto the top of the blankets, and closed my eyes. All of a sudden, I felt this weight on the bed, right next to me, and I got so scared (we have rats in the attic, and I get scared at night sometimes), but I knew it wasn't the rats, because everything was quiet. I just lay there, and then I just felt the thing roll closer to me, right near my face, but I still had my eyes closed. I turned slowly to face the thing, and as I exhaled out of my nose, I felt my own breath being reflected back into my face. It was then I knew I wasn't alone. I kind of forgot I was scared, and I just repeated in my head, "its okay Copper, I love you, you can stay. Stay, Copper, remember, you don't have to leave." and I fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up, and I didn't feel anything there anymore. I knew she came back to tell me not to be sad. It worked. I haven't cried about her since, even though I miss her very much, still.
I don't care if you don't believe me, but you weren't there, and you never felt that weight next to you, and never experienced Copper the way I did that night when I was not-quite-alone.