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Who’s following me?


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Author Topic: Who’s following me?  (Read 23 times)
Kendall Conway
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« on: December 10, 2015, 11:51:09 pm »

Who’s following me?
Posted on Monday, 16 November, 2015
Columnist: Helen Mihalopoulos




Since I was a young child living in a very small Central Valley town in California, I lived my life afraid of the supernatural and experienced many odd encounters. My first memory of terror was at the age of 5 being awakened from a deep sleep only to feel something heavy suffocating me. I was too afraid to open my eyes but I could feel a darkness surrounding me. I experienced this many times and each time I somehow gained the nerve to jump out of my bed and run to my mother’s room. However, each time she would tell me it was just a nightmare and send me back to the room I shared with three of my sisters who were always asleep during this experience.

However, of all of the experiences I encountered, I have to say the most terrifying experience has to be after my boyfriend David died of Lupus. I was 17 years old in January of 1974, David had been dead only a few weeks and although I was heartbroken and understandably unable to eat or sleep, I still had a sense of what was real and what was not real, the following was very real and I will never forget it.

One night as I tried to sleep, I felt an overwhelming fear that I was not alone. I was exhausted and knew I needed to rest. I could hear subtle noises around my room; the sound of the brush moving on top of my dresser, and then the window would creak as if someone was leaning up against it. I was terrified so I ran to my mother’s room and woke her up. I explained to her what was happening, but as usual she had no sympathy for me and told me to go back to bed. I wanted to sleep with her, but whatever room there would have been was occupied by my little brother and sister, so I sat in the chair that was placed in the corner of her room, which was basically used as a clothes hangar. As I sat in that chair I became intensely agitated and uneasy to a point that I was crying in terror, my mom asked me what was wrong with me and all I could say was David was in my room. She of course told me I was crazy and offered no comforting solution to my problem.

As the night turned into the early morning hours, I knew I needed to use the restroom; however, the thought of entering the room, continued to terrify me. I can recall telling my mother I had to go but I was afraid because I knew David was in there. My mother refused to go in with me and basically said to leave her alone. As I sat paralyzed to the chair next to my mother’s bed, I could hear my sister’s alarm clock go off, since I didn’t hear her get up, I assumed she turned her alarm clock off and went back to sleep as she often did.

A few minutes later her alarm clock went off again, I could hear her turn it off again, but this time, she got up out of bed and seen that the lights were on in my room and in my mother’s room, when she came to see what was going on, she very calmly explained to my mother and myself, that she had a bad dream that her alarm clock went off, she turned it off, got out of bed, walked to the restroom and David was standing in there. It was at that point I realized that David was indeed still with me.

Article Copyright© Helen Mihalopoulos
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