I don't know if I was born into the paranormal or if the paranormal found me. I was living in a foriegn country when I had my very first paranormal experience.
This blog will be my venting point for all the paranormal things that have happened over more than
thirty years and spanning two different countries.
I was four when I had my first two paranormal experiences and I will remember them as much as I remember the one when I was eight, when I was thirty-eight and when I saw a photo of the one thing that has haunted {I use the term loosely}me since I was 17 years old.
In my life I have lived in houses were I have been hit, scratched, yelled at. Visited places where I have been harassed, whispered to, touched, fondled, yelled at, scratched, pushed, hit. At four I was living in the philippines in a rather large three bedroom house the military was paying for. We had no running water, we had to pump our water from a pump in the middle of a dirt road behind concrete walls.
At four children aren't really aware of the paranormal as much as adults are. To a four year old it's just playing with a friend mom and dad can't see. My first experience, I was standing at the kitchen counter drinking water when a white cat appeared on the window frame, we didn't have a white cat nor did anynone in our area. I yelled for mom to come see the white cat but a four year old doesn't know not to turn away from a ghost, they vanish. By the time mom came into the room the cat was gone but she confided that she had seen the same white cat in the window.
The next year we moved to a house up the road from the base hospital, and we all know what paranormal investigators say about hospitals. Mom and Dad wrote off the stange noises, knockings, doors slamming shut or opening to just getting used to the new house. The stuff falling off the shelves was nothing more than being caused by one of the many small and large earthquakes we had on a daily basis, that is until mom witnessed my brother and I playing ball with someone that wasn't there. My brother and I were bouncing a ball back and fourth to our "friend" but Mom didn't see them. She never said anything about it, dad said we were just bouncing the ball off the bottom of the wall. Nope, it never touched the wall.
My second experience came shortly after my fifth birthday. I had gotten up to get my nightly drink of water and there he sat. A man in his early twenties in the dark green combat uniform of the late 60's early 70's. He sat in the chair, his leg flung over the arm and his combat helmet on his knee. Stopped me in my tracks. He didn't really move or say anything and he looked so real that I thought it could have been one of dad's many men from the base. From then on I walked through with my hands on either side of my face, trying to cover my eyes, to no avail, he was still there. It wasn't until years later I even told Mom about him.
We lived in that house for five years. With the guy in the chair, the guy who stood at the bus stop every night rain or shine waiting for the bus. Every time someone went to help him he would be gone by the time the person even got the the bus stop. The knocks, noises, voices, all were my induction into the paranormal. What I experienced between 4 and 8 became the building blocks of my paranormal life, including a showdown of sorts at the age of 17, which I still bare the scar.
