Since i was a 6 year old kid I used to wake up to a man standing by my bed shaking it every night. I always felt as if he was trying to hurt me. My family is a strong Christian family, and they don’t believe in ghosts. So it made it hard for me to deal with it, since they would not believe me if I were to tell them. CODE:U
The worst was when I was about 8 years old, I remember it to this day! I was not sleeping! I use to stay up and fake being asleep, because I was to scared. I slept on bunk beds in my bedroom, and was on the bottom bunk. I had to sleep with my feet sticking out because the bed itself was too small. Right as I was about to fall asleep, something grabbed my foot! It was pulled so hard; I fell out of bed and onto the floor. As I fell on the floor, I felt a sharp cut on my ankle, and I screamed the most blood-curdling scream. It was so loud my father came running in my room. He asked me what happened? I was trying to tell him that something pulled my leg and me out of the bed. My father being the skeptic that he is, said I just fell out of bed. As I looked down and around my room, I started to think for a second that maybe he might be right…until I looked as my foot. The foot that was grabbed and pulled had blood on my ankle! I looked at my father, while he looked at my ankle, and asked him, “then how did I get this cut?” he looked at me with a confused expression on his face. The next day I went under my bed to look for what cut me, to my surprise, under my bed was an old handsaw. When I brought the handsaw to my father, he said that it belonged to my grandfather on my mother’s side. The strange part was that it always hung above our front door in our house. So somehow it got from there, to under my bed? Plus I was sure this is what had cut my ankle. I was sure because I could see my blood on the handsaw, from my ankle. In fact, I can recall the feeling on my ankle from that night. It felt as though fingers grip my ankle and pull me off the bed. It was something I will never forget.
You see these attacks happen for a while as a kid. It was not until my 20’s my mom finally told me the whole story. My grandfather on my mom’s side, hated children. I never knew him growing up. And my mother and her mother did not like to talk about him. You see he got locked up because he went crazy. Turns out he hated children, he hated them so much that unfortunately two of my uncle’s were murdered when they were just babies. My grandmother was working nights at a hospital, when she arrived home from a long shift, she found both babies had been buried alive in the backyard. By the time she had dug them out of the ground they were as still as a statue. In that moment she gathered her things, grabbed my mother along with her older brother and left to a women’s shelter. After my grandfather was locked up, we never heard from him again. Years later I learned that he had passed away in jail, due to health problems.
I was so worried about this spirit fallowing me for the rest of my life and torment my children when i have them, that i had to do something about it. I had a friend that was into Witchcraft. She helped me out a lot by doing a ritual she performed. She was able to bound the spirit to a stone, tied it up and trap it inside a box. Then we took a walk and buried the box some place where no one would find it. I found it a little odd, but after everything I had been through, odd felt calming. As we finished burying the box my friend told me I had to push the malevolent spirit out of my mind, to not think about him. She said it was a big part of why his presents, was taking over me. So I did. Lastly as we were leaving, she told me not to look back. As we left, a sigh of relief left my body, and something inside of me just knew it was over.