19/24

When I was 8 and a half ish, my friend and I liked to go push biking a lot. We lived in a small country town, so where pretty much given free reign to just disappear for the day. It was a weekend, and as we where riding up the crest of a small hill that overlooked a valley in the town, I started to get this deeply uneasy feeling. We stopped at the top.

From where we where, we looked out over the valley and directly at the next ‘hill’ (because australia really just has bumps…) which is where our primary school was. The ‘bottom’ of the that hill was the bottom of the school, and it was the road where all the parents picked up their kids.

As I’m looking out over the valley, enjoying the sunshine and the breeze, movement catches my eye. I look back at the school, and I freeze in terror as I watch one car go careening into a car pulled up on the side. I see the two cars smash and crumple up, I can hear the crackle of breaking glass, the rattling thump of the impact, and I know with a bone deep, terrifying certainty,that my other close friend, her sister and mum are in there… and that they’re dead, and my friend is going to be left all alone. This was an unshaking fact in my mind as I stared at the accident. I didn’t question how I could so clearly hear the screams of the onlookers, the screech of tearing metal, or the ozone stink of hot metal. Even though I was too far away to even be able to hear anything- somehow, I was getting sensory overload, like I was right there.

My best friend asked me what was wrong. I’m shaking and crying at this point, so I manage stutter and somehow to get across what I’ve seen. She’s puzzled, so my attention focuses back to her as she explains that there is nothing wrong, what am I freaking out about? So I look back, still horrified- and there’s nothing there. Everything is still, quiet and calm.

A week later, in exactly the same spot, my friend was in a devastating accident. Her mum was picking her and her older sister up from school when someone lost control of their car and smashed into them. The mother and sister died on impact, and my friend was hospitalised for months afterwards.

I felt horrifically guilty for years afterwards. I should have told someone, any one what I saw, but it was so strange and unnerving that I just tried to forget about it instead.

dartuche

20/24

I had pneumonia when my grandfather died. I sleep walk. I think I was sleep walking this because I don’t remember it. I woke up, walked into my mom’s room, shook her awake and told her that papa loved her and wanted to her to know he would always watch over her. She was ushering me back to bed when the phone rang. That phone call was my grandmother telling my mom that papa had passed.

SouthernYankeeWitch

21/24

This had to have been about two years ago during the summer. I had this dream that I was in this old-timey train station and I was standing next to this man wearing a brown trench coat and one of those fedoras reporters used to wear. The man then turned to me and said “I’m going to pick up your Uncle Bud. Don’t worry about him, he’s going to be just fine.” As the man turned away, the train pulled up and the man walked on. I woke up from the dream as soon as the train pulled out of the station. When I woke up it was about 1 in the morning.

The next morning I get the news that my great Uncle Bud died in the night around 1 am. I immediately told my parents about the dream. After describing the man in the station, my dad shockingly exclaimed that he knew for a fact that the man in my dream was his dad who had passed years before I was born. According to my father his dad wore the same brown trench coat and hat, and it made sense that his dad picked up Uncle Bud because they used to be really good friends.

I remember at that time being really shaky on my beliefs of the paranormal and sometimes I still am, but I truly cannot explain that.

Sabrotro

22/24

In my teen years I moved into a kind of half-assed bedroom in the basement of my mom’s house. I think saying it was a creepy basement is a little redundant but just to be clear: this was and is a creepy basement. A couple rooms were finished, with tile flooring, a fireplace, paneled walls and a half bath. The rest was unfinished, with sinks and oil tanks and HVAC and pipes and a surprising amount of storage (just mostly empty rooms holding junk).

I spent some years in my bedroom in the basement with no real problems, but one night, I got a scare.

I had stayed up late studying for a Biology final. I turned in, I no longer remember but, some time after 1 a.m. Things seemed pretty routine; I fell asleep. I maybe should mention I was sleeping in a full or queen sized bed that had formerly belonged to my mom’s parents, both of whom were deceased by the time of my story.

An hour or so later I came awake, my hands clutching the tops of the blankets and sheets, trying to tug them but finding unexpected resistance. I was just kind of half awake at first, confused, then awake enough to register: I’m attempting to pull the sheet / blankets as I turn over in bed, as I’ve done many times before, and they’re not pulling. Like maybe they are caught on the bed springs somehow…?

I pulled harder. No good. Pulled again – then suddenly the blankets and sheets were jerked the other direction strongly, pulled right out of my hands. I remember kind of stammering, trying to say something in response, but I couldn’t form words.

I immediately turned on the light beside the bed and sat up and looked to the left, in the direction the bedding had been pulled. There was nothing and no one there. I pulled on the blankets again and they moved fine – no resistance, no problems. Everything normal.

It took me awhile but I got up and looked over at the other side of the bed. There was nothing to explain what I had just experienced. I turned on more lights and put on a record and stayed up the rest of the night. I eventually looked under the bed and, there was nothing there.

I continued to stay in that room for another year or so. Nothing like this happened to me again (though I slept with the light on for awhile after), with one exception that seems noteworthy. Within a week or so of the bedsheets incident, one night the door to my bedroom opened, apparently by itself. This happened earlier in the evening, before I had turned in and when others in the house were still up and around. My memory is I said out loud something like, “Go away, you’re not welcome here, this is my room.” Fortunately there was no reply. But, no further troubles, either.

I know the obvious explanation is I was asleep and talked myself into something unnatural having happened. It’s possible. But when it happened I was quite sure I was awake (after the first moments) and experiencing something abnormal. If anything I’d say I subsequently talked myself into well… I probably just dreamed that….

This is too long, I know, but I will also add: I had a few other spooky events in this house (nothing dramatic) prior to this, and my mom claimed at least one as well. My mom still lives there but no one has used the improvised bedroom in the basement for several years now. Back when this happened I told a friend who reminded me I was sleeping underground at approximately the same level as a corpse is buried.

mobro_4000

23/24

I was catching a train one day and I found a DVD on a seat. I checked to see if anyone owned it but the train car was empty so I stuffed it in my bag. That night I watched the short film that was on the DVD. In the film, the protagonist found a DVD on train and later on in the film, he met the star on the DVD that he had found.

Fast forward to a few nights later and I was at a restaurant and saw the actor who played the protagonist. Not quite believing what was happening I walked up to him, introduced myself and told him I found the DVD of the movie he starred in, on the train. Initially he said something like ‘oh cool’. Then as it sunk in his face went pale, his mouth gaped and we both had to have a a drink to recover from our minds being blowed up.

cmara2

24/24

About six or seven years ago, while living with someone else entirely, I woke up from a dream with a name on my mind and my lips – a girl that I hadn’t seen since high school, one who I never really interacted with. I didn’t think much about it for a few years. That relationship ended and eventually I moved back home.

My mom said that I was going to fall in love and get married very quickly and live happily ever after. Mothers are great for that kind of stuff, aren’t they? The last thing I wanted to do was move back in with my parents. After much consideration, most of which had to do with a lack of rent money, I moved home.

Within a month, I was part of a local music venue/craft beer bar. The owner sold the business to a friend of mine at the time and myself by the end of that year, and the next summer, that girl that I dreamed about walked right the fuck into my bar when I was behind it serving drinks. She was living 400 miles away and just happened to be home for the weekend.

She deliberated about going in because we charged a cover, but eventually gave in and met her friend. Gone goes the air in my lungs. Hazy goes the room.

Three years later, we are married. Shortly after I moved back home and met my wife, I had another dream. In this dream, I was looking at my wife and kids from the living room, through a pass-through area with cupboards, and into a large seemingly recently renovated kitchen.

Of course, we moved into this house about a year or two after I had the dream. The kitchen isn’t remodeled yet and the pass-through area is currently our computer room, but it’s the same thing I saw in my dream. Better get moving on those renovations!

citizenpuppet


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