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My Old Friend

Hey Edie, Nick, and Uglies! So let me give you just a little backstory to set the scene.

My mother died when I was two. My father and I moved from our family home into my Mother’s Grandmother’s house because my father was now a single parent with a toddler and he needed help. My Grandmother’s home was a converted funeral home. The doors to the living room were stained glass from the floor to ceiling.

Since it was a funeral home, there was an entrance to the basement from the outside. The entrance had both stairs and a ramp. The ramp was used to move the bodies into the basement for embalming.

When I was about 4 years old, I remember sitting in that living room watching cartoons, and a man came in and sat down next to me. He was tall, had white hair, wore khaki pants and a button down sweater over a button up collared shirt. He told me that he wanted to be my friend and began talking to me. He said he had been around for some time and was looking for his wife but was not able to find her. He talked about how much he missed her. He and I would sit for hours watching tv and just talking. I soon realized that no-one else could see him except for me as I was consistently asked “Who are you talking to?” by my Aunt and Grandmother when they heard me.

My family was very religious and when I told my Aunt about him, she said that he was a “familiar spirit” or “demon” and to tell him that he had to go away. I honestly can’t remember what happened after that, just that over time I slowly stopped seeing him.

A few years later, when I was about 10 years old, I was laying in bed under the covers but had my feet out at the bottom because it was hot. I felt someone grab both my ankles and slowly pull me to the bottom of the bed. I initially froze then started to scream. Everyone rushed in but.. no-one was there.

A little while after that, I finally dozed off. I had woken up to use the restroom, got back in bed and seemed to have just closed my eyes, when all of a sudden I was looking down at myself sleeping and could see my entire room. I could see every detail but I couldn't force myself down (I was scared of heights).

In what seemed like seconds, I was back in my body but I couldn't move my arms, legs, or scream. Then all of a sudden my room disappeared and I was in a white room. Sitting in the middle of this vast room was my invisible friend from so long ago. Still in the same sweater and khaki pants that I had seen him wearing back when I was 4. His expression was different. He seemed angry. He pointed to me and said “I WANT YOU!!!” Over and over.

I tried to scream! Tried to move! Nothing happened. Then I remembered to just say “Jesus” and I said it over and over.

All of a sudden I shot up in bed, heart pounding, and I could move my arms and legs again. This was by far one of the most traumatizing moments of my life.

I guess the moral of the story here is, when children say they have an imaginary friend, believe them. They are seeing and talking to someone.

I have many more stories about living and growing up in that house, especially the basement.. to be continued...


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