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A Childlike Fear




My story actually begins a little under eight years ago. I was eight, it was summer, and I was just, for the first time in my life, learning about the paranormal through books.

I loved reading, ever since I was a little kid. My Mom would buy books by the dozens for me, and I’d reach each one by the end of the day. Granted, they were little picture books we got at the second-hand store. But still. And books would become my escape.

I’ve also always had an irrational fear of the sky. I always felt that the night sky was harbouring monsters that would beam me up, and do things to me. I feared that they’d come back for me. And yet, as far as I remember, I’ve never had anything happen to me.

Yet lights in the sky, that were usually planes if not stars, terrified me. I loved the night sky, but never enough to pick up a book about the stars. I was too scared they’d be in it.

This fear had been with me since I was maybe four. It seems so long that I’ve been scared, and to be honest, it is. Twelve years.

Anyways, the one day that always stays in my memory, was a day in the middle of summer. The sun was setting, so it must’ve been around eight thirty. We’d just gotten back from something, I don’t remember the details.

But I do remember that as we were coming inside, our dog slipped out. My Mom asked me to go get him, so I did. I’d just stepped off the little porch when I was made to look up, as I usually did.

I’ll never forget that thing. It had to be half a mile away, and it seemed to be a good mile wide, a quarter mile high. It was just in the sky, slowly rotating. It had a curved top, a gentle slope, along with the bottom. It was a silvery color.

And around the middle, which was entirely straight, were windows, or lights. They were a yellowish auburn, and they’d turn white, before going back to the yellow. I was frozen in fear. Granted, the sun was still setting.

And then, I simply remember a bright blue light. And then I’m standing on my porch again, and it’s dark, late. Very late. I look from the sky, which is now empty, and see our dog, sitting there, right in front of me, looking like he had been there the whole time.

I was shaken. I went inside, with the dog, and checked a clock. A little past midnight.

I don’t remember anything from the time that had past, and it always makes me scared. Where did that time go?

My Mom and brother acted as if nothing had happened, and they don’t have any recollection of that day.

Ever since, I’ve begun to look to the sky. I’m still so scared. My nightmares consist of being picked up by these beings. I’ve had, what I think, is sleep paralyses, where I wake up, and I can’t move, and they’re standing there. This greyish, little things with big blackish eyes. They poke and prod me, and I want to scream, but I can’t move.

It happens maybe twice a year. The nightmares come once a week.

Usually, I wouldn’t be talking about this. But last night, I had another bad dream. A really bad one. I woke up, literally, and again experience what I can only call sleep paralysis.

We live in an apartment, and my bed is pushed up right against the wall, right in the corner next to the opened window. I remember looking to the fan that was letting in the cool air, and seeing a large, bulbous head. It’s giant, almond-ish black eye’s slowly blinked at me, and its head tilted to the side. I remember trying to move, as this thing slowly left my sight, down, below the opened window.

And then there was a searing pain on my chest, and I looked right on top of me. There was just a finger, or something like it, and the world seemed to fizz in and out, as if I wasn’t really in bed. The softness of my bed would give out to the feeling of cold metal. The dark room would become bright.

And then it’d fizz back into my bedroom. I don’t know how long this went on, but as it did, the pain on my chest increased into the feeling of being burnt. And then I was waking up.

When I did sit up, and examine myself, I found, right where the middle of my ribs are, where the rib cage separates, four red dots, perfectly squared. They can’t be bigger then the tip of my pinkie each, creating a rounded shape the size of a quarter.

And I have no idea how they got there.

I think they’ve come back for me.


Credits to: MikoMikoChan

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