The world is covered in a moonless night. It is late, but I’m awakened by a building sense of foreboding. I toss and turn in my bed trying to get back to sleep but the building uneasiness won’t allow me to. I open my eyes and sit up. I look at the bare wall my bed faces and rather than be greeted by the familiar sight of blank expanse I see the outline of what appears to be a man with glowing red eyes. It is reminiscent of the chalk outline of a dead body except it is filled with shadow. I immediately scream and run to my parent’s room, hysterical. Tears run down my face and my breathing comes in harsh gulps between the sobs.
This is my earliest memory of seeing what I have come to call “shadow people.”
To me, they represent ghosts, not the fully formed specters we see in film but a spirit nevertheless. Sometimes their appearance can accompany an ominous sense of presence like in my earliest memory or sometimes they just appear. When I told my parents what I had seen, they told me it was probably the shadow of a car passing by my window. My verbiage was limited at the age of five but I knew without a doubt what I had seen was not a car passing.
That wouldn’t be the last time I experienced or saw something. My room would have a cold spot that would appear and disappear at varying intervals. At night I would wake up to a pressure holding me to the bed. Whenever I came home from school I would always have the sense that someone was watching me from the top of the stairs that faced the front door.
Things came to a climax when I was pushed down the stairs and injured myself.
No one else was at the top of the stairs and I didn’t trip. I was standing at the top and preparing to take the first step when I felt a harsh shove from behind that caused me to slide down. I caught myself on the banister but there was a nail sticking out that wasn’t there the previous day. It opened my finger slightly with the speed at which I passed by it.
I wasn’t the only one who saw things. An old woman appeared at the door when some relatives were visiting. She rang the doorbell late at night and my uncle went to look at the peephole to see who it could be. He said he saw her sitting there but when he went to open the door no one was there. Eventually, shadows of children were seen and presences felt by all. That’s when we moved.
Unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from seeing shadowed images and sensing spirits.
The shadows appeared more sporadically throughout the years. They seemed to prefer to manifest when I was alone. They appeared more frequently whenever I was at places with known death, like hospitals or hotels. I’m not sure why this happens to me or what they ultimately want. The more malevolent specters have been few and far between but they are the ones that make me cautious around all of the figures. One day I may find out, but as for now. I’m just trying to keep my head above water.
If anyone else has experienced or know of these manifestations, don’t hesitate to comment and share your story.