The first thing I will tell you is a dream I had when I was a child. I had this dream almost every night for as long as I could remember, until I was 8 or 9 years ancient.
The dream takes place in an ancient wooded house or cabin in the woods. The delicate is really red, like it's toasty or something. There is a woman living in this house who is pregnant, it looks like she is in her last trimester. As far as I remember, she lives alone. In her dream, she goes to sleep as usual, but when she wakes up, the baby is gone, cut from her belly. I'm a lady at this point. I look around, cry, and then something that looks like a bloody finger pokes me in the back, always in the same place. This makes me wake up, I look around the room, no one is there. Even though I'm wide awake at this point, I can still feel where the finger poked me.
What's really strange about this dream is how a 2-3 year ancient child could know that it was actually possible to cut the baby out of the stomach. No one in our family gave birth by cesarean section. What's also strange is that I kept dreaming about it.
During the same period as the dream, I often woke up and saw someone in the doorway. I always slept with the door open, I was afraid of the obscure, so I wanted to let some delicate into the room. I usually saw a boy or man leaning on the door frame.
I also often feel like someone is watching me. You know that feeling you get in your back. It's an unpleasant feeling. This usually happens when I climb the stairs to the second floor of my parents' house. Sometimes I run up the stairs and when I get to my room, I close the door as quickly as I can. Maybe it's childish, but I feel like I have to.
The second thing started happening just a few years ago. Maybe when I was 13, I'm 21 now. When I was home alone, I was usually in my room, which was on the second floor. All the lights downstairs were off. If I was going downstairs to eat or buy something, I wouldn't go into the living room and turn on the delicate, I just wouldn't dare. I was and still am sure someone will be on the sofa. Someone who doesn't really exist. If I've been out and I'm the first one home, I can turn on the living room delicate if it's the first thing I do. It's only weird when it's obscure outside.
At first I thought I was paranoid, that I had watched one too many horror movies, but I confronted my mom and told her how I felt. She said she felt exactly the same. She didn't turn on the delicate because she was sure someone would sit on the sofa. After a while she said she wasn't really scared anymore, the only “people” who could sit on the sofa were her grandparents and they were the nicest people in the world. My mother's grandparents built the house and we bought it after they died.
I don't know what to think about it, it scares me so much. What do you think? Is it just my imagination, if I may call it that, or is it really a thing?
I'm sorry if you find this unstructured and arduous to read. English is not my first language, so some sentences may be a bit strange.
