Ever since I was little, ie, since I was about 9, I was able to get a sense of energies, see some versions of the future and know when people are going to die. Now I know most stories are about one experience in particular but I want to tell several without going too far into detail.

I am 15 now and after many sleepless pondering nights I’ve still not made sense of it all. My first account was fairly mundane. I saw a regular day in my life three days before it happened. I could recall the conversations, what I had for lunch, etc. It was weird because whenever this happens, on the day I had predicted I feel, for lack of a better word, weird. Everything that happened that day scared me. I was extremely jumpy, nervous, and downright anxious. That was the first time. A mystifying experience.

The next few times followed the same patterns. Sometimes the visions, I guess I can call them that, happened the next day, sometimes it was a week, and sometimes they have yet to be lived out by yours truly. The two most memorable accounts are as follows.

I was 11 and in my bedroom, when 2 am rolled around, I woke with a start and I swear to God I could feel something in my room. It was dark, it was evil, but it didn’t want to hurt me. For some reason, it just sort of hovered above me with no particular shape. The thing seemed satisfied, as if it knew whatever it asked, I’d obey. I was young, I was alone, and I was terrified. After a few minutes, although they seemed like hours, it left. It took three days of crying, hiding from the world, and a ton of comforting music until I was able to sleep again.

I was 13 and hanging out with my older sister,16 at the time, and I remember we were listening to music, in particular a song by Jon Bellion I believe. Im pretty sure its called beautiful now. When this song builds up to its beat drop, the tempo of the music increases until its just one beat going faster and faster. All of a sudden, according to my sister, I took a deep breath in and my eyes darted back and forth as if watching something. she told me she watched as a singular tear rolled down my cheek, although it did not leave a wet mark she swears it was there. Then, when I came out of the vision, I started panting hard, my heart feeling as if it was about to explode. My muscles, my bones, my very nerves were screaming with a need. The need to help, to save, to fight. What I saw still terrifies me to this day. I was on the inside of a huge, and I mean, huge, four foot thick cement wall. There were people trying to climb from the outside to get in, and every time a new face appeared at the top of the wall, a sniper shot them down. I felt as though I were in a scene from a movie. I couldn’t move. My mouth was open to scream but no sound emanated from my lips, and my feet were stuck in this deep mire. I call it mire because mud or muck does not do this substance justice. I remember seeing a boy who somehow had dug under the wall. He was around 6 or 7 years old and was carrying his three year old sister. Just as he pulled them out from under the wall, he looked up and now my head was forced to turn as well. Standing there, on top of some sort of machine, in a perfectly tailored black and dark blue striped suit was a white man. He was average height, but his smile. His smile was the feral grin of a deranged lunatic about to torture and kill. I watched in horror as he looked over and nodded at one of the snipers. Only a few seconds later that little boy lay dead, a single bullet hole in his forehead. His little sister sat by his fallen body, and she looked up, right into my own sad eyes. I watched as she cried a single tear of blood that ran down her cheek and hit the ground before I was pulled back into the waking world. Thats right. you heard me, a single teardrop composed of blood. I didn’t tell my sister all these gory details but I did tell her most of it. That night, I didn’t sleep, I cried and at one point I basically howled in agony. I know that one day this horrible horrible horrible event will occur. And to the little girl that loses her brother, please, for the love of all things, please, I beg you, stay safe, and stay strong.

Submitted to weird Darkness and My Haunted Life Too by Kess Ronan

© 2019, G. Michael Vasey & My Haunted Life Too.com (Unless indicated otherwise by author’s own copyright above). All rights reserved.

MORE SCARY BEK STORIES HERE....

Related