So this is the first "me and my mom" story I'm going to post. I have some more, but I figured it would be a good idea to start with the one that really... well, it kind of started everything. I'm sorry if my writing is kind of choppy, it's pretty late and I'm pretty rusty.
To start off, my mom is very religious and spent a very long time denying to herself that she could see the supernatural. She believes that most ghosts that aren't residuals (just echoes of people repeating actions) are demons, though I know she doesn't believe that of all of them. She couldn't, not after this. I feel like she spends a lot of time bouncing between not wanting to be around any "haunted" places, and actively seeking them out. They make her really tired, especially if really horrible things happened there. Like mother like Daughter, I also have some sense of the supernatural, though I don't actually see things the way she does. I mostly can "see" people's personalities, I call it an aura because it's the easiest term for it, but I don't really feel like it's the best term. A short description is that people show up as colors, and the shade/color/texture/movement/closeness give me a lot of information about a person. I also sometimes see "shadows" and I get feelings and sometimes hear things, but not very strongly.
Anyway. In fifth grade I made this friend. Like most of my friendships, it didn't last very long, but it did last long enough. For the sake of privacy, I'm going to call her Kim. Kim was the first real friend I'd had in a long time who seemed to sincerely enjoy me being around. I would go over to her house all of the time, and we would do all of the stuff normal 5th graders would. Play with toys and watch scary movies and have sleep overs and such. Unfortunately I don't remember too much, this was over ten years ago. I do always remember not liking to spend time in their kitchen, and frequently feeling like there was an extra person around when I knew there wasn't. There were five kids, a dog, and a cat in the family though, so I pretty much just brushed it off and didn't pay any attention to it. They also had a dollhouse. I didn't really like playing with the dollhouse either, but I mostly brushed that off as me being me. I wasn't really into very many girly things except for ponies and horses. We were always telling each other ghost stories and trying to scare her younger siblings, too, so any time I was uncomfortable or felt weird, I figured, again, that it was just the regular result of the ghost stories.
Then one day they told me about the little girl.
Kim's dad had a work truck that he left parked outside the house. Our neighborhood isn't really the kind of place where you have to worry about leaving your cars parked out front and while every so often people get stolen from, generally you can leave your car out without having to worry. One night someone decided to break into his truck and steal a bunch of tools. Kim's dad was woken up and went out there and the guy ran off, they filed a police report, and everything turned out okay. Everything except the sense of unease the family had ever since the event. See, a little girl had woken Kim's dad up by yelling and shaking him. I don't remember much about her description except that she was black. Kim has a little sister who is adopted that's black, so at first he thought it was her. This girl was younger though. Much younger. And after they got the thief away from the truck, she was nowhere to be found.
Understandably the whole family was a little freaked out by the events, and started talking about other things that happened in the house. Little things, like toys being found where they hadn't been left, being tapped on the shoulder, noises in the middle of the night.
Naturally when I went home that day I told mom about it. I don't remember a lot of the details of my mom going over there, or why she did, but she did end up discovering that the little girl was VERY much active in the house, and she was attached to this dollhouse that Kim's little sister had gotten at a garage sale. The little girl's story is a very sad one. Mom discovered that she had been murdered, most likely by a mother figure, and dumped in a lake. The details of this are pretty hazy, and the little girl seemed to be somewhere around age six. And she was just a little kid who wanted to play and was happy to be around a lot of other kids. Mom didn't tell them all of this, I don't think they really needed to know about her being murdered. But she did tell them that this little girl was attached to the dollhouse.
Kim and I had been friends for about a year, around this point, but had recently had a falling out. Regular middle school drama where suddenly you just aren't cool enough to spend time with anymore. I stopped going over to her house and we stopped talking. My mom went over to their house a few more times, in order to help the little girl, though. I don't remember what happened, I do know that my mom helped her get some peace. Shortly after, Kim and her family moved away. I don't know what happened to the dollhouse, but I do know they didn't keep it.
As for the creepy feeling in the kitchen, an old man who had lived and died in that house just wasn't quite ready to leave. Every so often he'd open up the refrigerator and look for something to eat. To this day that is still one of the funniest things I've ever heard of a residual doing.
My falling out with Kim was bad, and we never did become friends again, but I don't feel like I became friends with her just because she was a new kid in school and we got along. I think I became friends with her because that little girl needed help. I'm not nearly as religious as my mom. I go back and fourth believing what I was taught, and feeling like the God I was raised up to believe in isn't really all that great, and that he has to be better than the way he's depicted in the bible. I do believe though, that I was put into Kim's life so mom could help the little girl attached to that Dollhouse.
I am sorry that there's so many things I don't remember about this, but it was the first real experience I'd had with anything supernatural, and it ended up being more my moms experience than my own. It really helped my mom open up about being able to see and hear ghosts, and has since led to many other stories that I remember much better. Hopefully in my next one I'll be able to give you more details.
Submitted March 02, 2016 at 04:38PM by Rose_Bubble http://ift.tt/21GYHF5 nosleep
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