what-noooo-never

[what-noooo-never]

The one time I used the estes method, I heard breathing really deep through the headphones-

My reaction wasn't panic or anything, just literally said out loud- "Stop breathing in my ear, you're dead, you have no reason to be breathing at all."

So to conclude I think I'd either be the only survivor or the first to die in a ghost film-

[what-noooo-never]

Ghost story time!

This is gonna be a ramble to buckle in!

Hi, call me Salt! I'm someone who gets regular nightmares which is important to the context of this story. So!

Context points:

Around a year ago, I got a new nightmare (that has since recurred around 4-5 times) that involved a smiling, tall, curly haired man in a pinstripe suit in my conservatory, named 'Wayus?'- strange with the question marks, I know, but it's always only said like a question rather then a statement, so that's mainly for inflection.

Both of my parents are medically trained and work in the field of medicine, have since before I was born.

My father is Athiest, and a skeptic to anything supernatural

My mother is a Norse Pagan, Hereditary witch, and believes in the supernatural completely

My sister is 5 years older then me, and has never been the one with anxiety (I managed to get that gene)

There is no current running line in my family on either side of psychosis, but hey, who knows, right?

Me and my parents still live in the house, my sister moved out 5 years ago and the story I'm about to tell is from three separate conversations about it pieced together afterwards.

Right, Onto the story now that context is out the way!

I was telling my elder sister about this dream and what happened in it, when she said she recognised that description from when she was around 10-11 (she can't remember exactly).

She had woken up one morning and gone through a day feeling like something was wrong- dissociated and nauseous etc. So she went to bed around the same time as I had that night (I was around 5-6 at the time.) Important to note- we had bunk beds, where I slept on top and she slept underneath me.

At around 11pm, she woke up in a panic and decided to take herself to the toilet, hoping the light and some relief would be all she needed. Once she was done, she was about to open the bathroom door when she became terrified to do so- the kind of paralysing fear that makes it hard to breathe or move, as if she would be in danger if she opened the door.

So my sister did what any child would do- she called for my parents. My house isn't big- a standard British council house- yet somehow my parents didn't hear her yelling for them. So instead, when she realised they weren't coming, she grabbed the towels from the drying racks, covered herself and tried to sleep in the bathroom until morning.

She slept a couple hours, then woke up in a cold sweat, absolutely terrified to even open her eyes this time, regardless of the fact that she had the bathroom light on.

My sister then screamed for my mum again, and this time, my mum appeared to calm her down, and my sister explained that she was terrified to leave the bathroom, and if mum could get her back into the bedroom (by the way, layout in the house is bathroom is at the top of the stairs, then directly next to that is mine and my sisters room, then my parents room, then the room they were going to move me into soon.)

Obviously like a good parent my mum came in and sat my sister on the bed to console and calm her, and to try and figure out what was going on. My dad, at this point, was still asleep, as he is a deep sleeper.

But as soon as my sister sat on her bunk, mini me sat up and started coughing. (I don't remember any of this, but I was young and sleep deprived at 2am, so I'm not too worried about that).

It was a deep, hollow chested death rattle cough, loud enough that it did actually wake my dad up this time- so while my mum consoled my sister, my dad ran in and took me into the bathroom, starting a hot shower and sitting me on the edge of the bathtub to breathe in the steam and clear my throat.

My parents then talked across the cracked doors of the close rooms as to whether they should call an ambulance for me.

(This is where it gets creepy)

My mum suddenly stopped upon seeing a tall, skinny man with curly hair walk across the landing and to the top of the stairs, walking as if he lived there, right outside both the bedroom and bathroom doors- though from my dads angle with me, he couldn't see.

And, as one would, my mum yelled at my dad that there was an intruder in the house.

Dad opened the bathroom door to see the back of the man's head descending the short flight of stairs and turning into the kitchen, and raced down after him, screaming- "Who the fuck are you?! Get the fuck out of my house! I'm not letting you near my daughters!"

Once he got downstairs, he couldn't find the man. My dad searched everywhere for almost an hour down there as my mum stood between the doors to keep at eye on the landing and both me and my sister.

Not finding anything in the cupboards, cabinets, under sofas etc. my dad came back upstairs and put us to bed, while my mum went and checked all the locks (everything was shut and locked already).

The next day I was fine- didn't even have a hoarse throat, and my sister says that as soon as dad ran out and yelled "Get out of my house!", she felt safe again, and slept well.

It wasn't something the family talked about, since not long after was when I started having nightmares on a regular basis and my family focused on my mental health, meaning the topic of what happened never came up.

That was until I described the smiling man from my dream, stood in the conservatory of our house, the one place my dad checked without going into, watching, saying nothing, with his curly hair and tall frame.

I only told my family about the nightmare the day after it happened because I was too shaken up to describe it at first- and I told them all separately- each gave me the same story from their perspective.

[what-noooo-never]

Don't you love that moment you walk into a room and forget everything about yourself.

Like the reason you went in there, your will to live, the objects you've needed during your walk from whatever room you were in to whatever room you're in now.

Ah yes. The mind works in weird ways.