It was 2001, I'd been married for only a few months and I'd just been laid off from my job. I was spending the day alone at home looking for a job and stressing over the bills. Things started happening ... and for a while I wondered if I was possibly losing my mind. I'm a stickler for closing cabinet doors when I'm done with them. And yet they wouldn't stay closed. I was 19, out in the adult world for the first time ever, terrified, and rather alone. I'd get something to eat from the kitchen, set it down on the desk in the living room, glance back into the kitchen through the bar area and the cabinet doors would be all closed. I'd go to the bathroom and when I came back they'll all be open. Things would randomly move, including my 30gal aquarium tank that held about 50 hermit crabs. It shifted along the bar quiet often, mostly an inch or two in either direction, sometimes quite a bit more. I would make sure I put the food back down on the left side of the tank, have my husband verify it, and later it would be moved. I came very close to becoming very obsessive over where everything was and how things were.
Meanwhile, I began having terrifying nightmares. Now, there's something to keep in mind about my dreams and nightmares. Whether they be good or bad I feel, hear, see, and smell everything in them. They are always full sensory. I always slept on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom door. In my dreams a dark presence would slowly ooze out of the bathroom and creep closer and closer to me. The nearer it got the more the terror and paralyzing fear stole over me. It felt like I was sinking into the bed, pinned down and unable to move, while it hovered over me and slowly leaned closer. Eventually I would be able to free my leg and kick my husband so that he would wake up a little and the presence would flee back to the bathroom ... in my dream. In reality I never woke up but I thought I did. I'd settle back a bit and relax and before I knew it I would be in another dream; or rather, a continuation of the same dream.
Now I was at my great grandparents house and I watched my Nanny cuddle and coo at a tiny baby boy. That was my baby, I knew he was, just as I knew my own name. I carefully took the baby from Nanny because it was time for us to head home. She walked us out to the car but before we left I decided that the baby needed protection from 'that thing'. I sat down in the grass to the side of the driveway with the baby in my lap. I carefully drew up the circle, everybody could see the pure white light surrounding me. One of the neighbors came up to me and asked what I was doing. I explained that I was protecting my baby. The neighbor said that it didn't matter because he wasn't mine to keep. Then the circle and the protections would unravel and I was falling through space. Next thing I knew I'd be sitting on the foot of the bed with my husband and my baby and crying over the baby because I was afraid that something would happen to my little boy. My husband would hold me and tell me no, everything would be fine. However that dark corrupt presence would slowly snake an arm up from under the bed and snatch my little boy from me every single time.
I never failed to wake at that moment, soaked in sweat, crying, and absolutely terrified.
It only grew worse when the presence began manifesting there in the apartment where I could see him. I'm very certain it was male, and he was very displeased that my husband and I were there. Every time I saw him a cold wave of fear swept over me. One day I was sitting at my desk next to the bedroom door and he stood in the doorway. He finally began approaching me and my fear kept rising higher and higher. I was openly crying because I was so scared. Suddenly my huge claymore sword fell to the floor between me and the spirit. If you know anything about swords, my claymore is about 5 feet in length; it's a very sturdy blade and heavy. It was secure where it was standing and had no reason to fall. The shock and fear showed clearly in the spirit's being. The spirit instantly dispersed and I never saw him again.
I have other stories about ghosts. There's the little boy at the our second apartment who played on the patio as well as the beautiful Victorian lady who stood next to my computer desk while we lived there. I welcomed a distraught woman into our home early one morning and she and the man who was there when we bought the place got along quite well. But those are all stories for another day. I'm going to go find something else to occupy my mind for a bit as the retelling of this particular story seems to have done quite a number on me.