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Weird poo poo follows my family. It all started with my gran. Her parents were Roma and she was something of a "seer". She used to scare the poo poo out of my mom when she was a little girl by telling her all about all the dead relatives who'd appear for a chat at the bottom of her bed. She scared her so much, in fact, that when I was born, my mom forbade her from ever bringing up anything paranormal with me whatsoever. See, the theory goes that "seeing" isn't a one-way thing; if you can see dead people, dead people can see you too. Spirits and so on are supposed to gravitate towards "seers" because they know they'll see them, and my mom didn't want me getting interested in case I started seeing things myself. She wasn't entirely successful because although I never saw anything, I definitely felt things. My grandparents were in their early 70s so they'd go to bed early, but being indulgent grandparents they'd let me stay up in the lounge playing video games. Usually I'd get bored and go to bed as normal, but other times something strange happened. The room would get freezing cold, the lights would dim and I'd feel a strange pressure in my ears. As I said, I never saw anything, but I could *feel* something horrible. I remember even at the time thinking that it didn't "feel" human, and the shape I sensed it having was too tall and had too-long limbs. Whatever it was, I was scared enough of even glimpsing it that I'd dash out of the room so fast that I constantly got into trouble for leaving the TV or the lights on. Eventually, the inevitable happened and my gran died. With the "seer" of the family gone and the house where she lived sold, I assumed that would be an end of it, but it wasn't. When my grandad moved into my mom's house, whatever liked to scare me out of my gran's living room came with him. My mom, who was as prone to staying up late as I was, started feeling it, too. When she was alone at night, she'd come over freezing cold and the lights would dim. A feeling of being watched would come over her, and the only way to make it stop was to hurry out of the room. Eventually, this got so frequent that she called in a psychic. She'd convinced herself that my dad, who'd died a few years previously, was still in the house, and she wanted someone to help him cross over or whatever so that the feelings would stop. The psychic said there were three entities, but none of them were my dad. One was the guy who built the house, who'd stand at the top of the stairs and look out over the garden, one was a cat that we'd nursed back to health after kidney failure, and the other was a malevolent spirit that she couldn't "read" beyond sensing a great deal of anger. She said the other two were single beings who were once alive and were now dead, but this third entity was an "elemental" spirit, something that was never a living thing and either just wanders in from nature or is summoned into being by stuff like Ouija boards. Defeated, we resigned ourselves to living with the ghost. When a room went cold late at night that was our cue to get up and go do something else. Sometimes the feeling would follow you from room to room and you'd just give up and go to bed. Everything was fine with this arrangement until I got a girlfriend who claimed to be a "seer" herself. This girl had some sort of ability, because the first night she stayed over, without knowing anything about the house, she claimed to have seen a ghostly feline that perfectly fitted the description of our old cat, right down to his enlarged kidneys. She could "see", and the evil Ouija thing knew it, because when she came down to stay one Christmas it went loving apeshit. poo poo started happening when two of us or even all three of us were in the same room. We started to see flickering shadows, and for the first time it started showing up upstairs instead of just hanging out the bottom floor. One night I woke up and I could sense the thing at the bottom of the bed and it was furious. The only way I can describe the feeling is like the one time I rode my bike over a railway crossing and I turned to see a train bearing down on me. That's when my girlfriend started choking. Just slightly at first, but the more she gasped for air the strong the feeling from the end of the bed grew. I froze, but when she started writhing around I jumped out of bed and wrenched open the door. The pressure dissipated instantly and she sat up, coughing her lungs up, and had to go outside to catch her breath. I've got no idea how much time passed but the next thing I hear is a scream. I sprint downstairs into the garden and, shaking and near tears, she tells me what happened. She'd walked to the end of the garden and then started to walk back towards the house. Around twenty feet from the back door, she'd looked up at the big bay windows into the lounge, brightly lit where someone had left the lights on, and that's when she'd seen it. It was around eight feet tall, narrow and with skin the colour and texture of tree bark. It's legs were long and spindly and it's arms, which were too long for it's body and hung down near it's knees, ended in oversized hands with long, twisted, branch-like fingers. The worst, though, was it's head, which hung down to it's chest, looked like if you took a horse's head and left it in the sun until it was a rotten, unrecognizable mess. Despite only having the vaguest impression of eyes and teeth, she knew it was looking right at her. She came inside to collect her stuff, turning on every light she passed, and caught the first train back home the next day, telling me she couldn't deal with what was happening and that she wouldn't be back. Weird stuff had started happening at her house, too, in the last few weeks, and she wasn't going to put herself through any more. She stuck to her guns, too - she didn't call, text or anything else ever again. That was the last tie I ever saw her. Strangely enough, after that, the feelings started happening less. It had always gone through waves of activity, but this was like it had just fallen off a cliff; the lights dimmed a couple more times over the next couple of weeks and then it was gone.That's how it stayed until I moved out a couple of years later and, as far as I know, that's the way it still is now. I stayed over last Christmas and it was fine, not even a peep. I don't want to speculate too much, but I wonder if it had something to do with my ex-girlfriend. I remembered my gran's theory on "seeing" being a two-way street. Maybe after years of tormenting us, it had finally found someone it could truly see, and more importantly, someone who could see it.
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Feb 10, 2015 23:09
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 03:00 |
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Holy gently caress is the tulpa subreddit tragic. Just on the first page there's one guy asking if tulpas can be alternatives to real friends, another asking if his tulpa can be his girlfriend, and a full-blown schizophrenic being encouraged to hide his "tulpas" from his therapist. Social outcasts, people with mental illness, and people trying to induce mental illness as an alternative to being social outcasts. (Don't sign your posts, etc)
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Sep 27, 2015 22:21
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