My house is festooned with the trappings of the holiday season. Wreath on the door, stockings dangling from the mantle, tree in the corner, poinsettia centered on the table, snow globes scattered hither, thither and yon. So it's Christmas, a time of year not typically associated with spirit unrest and paranormal activity. The situation in my house, however, is far from typical.
Halloween came and went with nary a bump in the night. As November departed, so did the nary. The nightmares, the so-damn-real nightmares returned. They last 36 minutes. Every time. I still remember the last one in such vivid detail that it's clearer than memories of events that actually occurred. The dream itself isn't exactly the same every time, thank God, but the...world is. If you know anything of the TV show Fringe, you may be better able to appreciate what I'm getting at. It's as if I'm visiting a different, yet wholly self-contained reality.
Lately, upon waking, I'm plagued by the sensation that I'm being watched by something not entirely alive or maybe even human. It's creepy, and I haven't experienced it for years. The last time was when my son was finding inexplicable scratches and welts on his back, when I heard phantom footsteps and otherworldly voices at night. Now, I don't know if there's a connection between the nightmares and the being watched sensation, but then again, I'm not a believer in coincidences either.
No comments:
Post a Comment