Its not very often that I wake up at 1am and write about a dream. This one terrified me so badly that I had to turn on a night light and stay up a little bit so that I can get over it. I would like to say that the dream came because I didn’t have my fuzzy blanket to sleep with, but who am I kidding? I had this one because I listen to ghost stories all day long at work on You Tube and one of them stuck with me.
I strongly believe in the spirit world. I have gone ghost hunting , toured through the Shanghai Tunnels in Portland and spent a night at the Multnomah County Poor Farm (currently McMenamins Edgefield) and found some pretty amazing stuff. Having actual footage of ghosts didn’t affect me nearly as much as this dream did.
I was sitting in my grandmother’s living room (of the house she owned in the nineties) and had a web cam on to take a picture of me. I found that there was a face in the background of the photo and decided to get into it and see what I could find. I started taking more and more photos and the face kept getting closer and closer to me. I freak out and start looking around behind me and I can feel it, the fear is pushing adrenaline through my veins and I have nothing physically there to validate my fear. I have to look on the screen to see anything. Have you ever played Fatal Frame Crimson Butterfly? A little girl is looking for her sister in an abandoned town and the only way she can fight the spirits that attack her is by taking their picture. This has to do with the theory that a piece of you is actually removed from you with every picture taken, this is how she fights the spirits that attack her. This is how I fucking felt. This game scares the SHIT out of me.
I believe in God and the spirit world. I know these things exist, I have seen my mother transition from life to death and talk about seeing them. I have taken pictures of spirits and felt the cold chills, nausea and fear that they put into you to communicate. But I haven’t down right prayed in a long fucking time. I am not Catholic, I don’t know Hail Mary but in my dream, the power of Christ compelled me and I spewed every line from The Exorcist as if it were actually going to help me. This is when a glowing orb started buzzing around my head like a hungry bee and I didn’t even need a camera to see it anymore. I was afraid to breathe, because I felt like it would open passage ways for the fucking devil to get into my breathing tubes and eat my soul. I bat at it like a gnat that wont leave my eyes alone. Nothing helps. I look on the screen and the face has taken over every picture in my computer’s photo album, photos from the nineties were consumed by an angry man. I hear something in real life and wake up to find that I was praying in my sleep.There are a few morals of this story:
- I need to stop listening to ghost stories for a while
- Never go to bed without the fuzzy blanket
- In the end, I turn to God and I should probably stop being such a god damn stranger.
ps. I would read through this right now to make sure it’s good, but I still have to go back to sleep and I don’t want to pick up where I left off. Remember, it was 1am when I started this.