Friday Scary Story, October 3, 2014

Sometimes dreams feel real...

Sometimes I don't know if I am in one, or not...

Three days ago, I had a dream.  I was staring at an old abandoned farmhouse.  It was overcast and drizzly.

I was with two small children.  We needed shelter.

We stood there staring at the house.  I felt a presence was there.  I felt like something was watching us.

I had to check it out, before letting the children go too close.

I felt sick as I walked closer to the screen door.

I was afraid.

I could feel the entity.  It was trying to scare me away.

It was so strong.

My breathe was shallow.  I wanted to run.  But, I stared hard into the discolored screen.

I saw it.  It was a women, she was only a few inches away from my face.

She was a ghost.

I stared at her eyes.  They were so familiar.  They were the only thing that had color.

Suddenly, I felt like I was melting.  Heat was pouring over me.

I realized, her eyes were mine.

I was staring at me.

It's been three days since I believe I had a dream...

I am afraid to look in the mirror.

Friday Scary Story, September 26

Do you listen to your gut?

If it says run?  Do you run?

Sometimes I don't.



After work, I waited by the elevator.

It is the sixth floor.

From the corner of my eye, I see a dark object.  It glides over unnaturally, as if floating.

It is a man.

He is extremely thin, and tall.  He is so hunched over that he looks like a candy cane.

It is 100 degrees outside, and it is odd that he is heavily cloaked in black, and is wearing a wide brimmed black felt hat.

My intuition warnings are loud.  I feel very strongly that I should not get on the elevator with him.

I ignore my gut, and tell myself nothing will happen.

I get on.  My gut still hurts.

As we slowly hit floor four, he unkinks his body and stands straight and tall.  Directly facing me.  He stares me right in the eyes, and says, "I could get off on the fourth floor and jump off the building."

I do not move.  I do not respond.  I do not want to imprint on this man's mind, or being.

The elevator stops at floor three.  A woman get on and stands between us.  As she steps in, he shrinks back into his candy cane shape, hunched over and pathetic.

What would you do?

Every Friday... A scary story.

Every Friday... I am going to post a frightening experience.

All I ask, is that you tell me, what you would do?

Would you run?

Would you fight?

Would you freeze up and...


I look forward to tomorrow my friends.