When I was a child, I lived in a house that seemed to be haunted. I awoke one night to see the ghostly apparition of my dead great grandmother staring at me. I want afraid until I saw her face. There was just... no expression. Totally blank. I became afraid, closed my eyes, and got under the covers.
Finally, I got the courage to look again and she was gone. I never saw her again. But I never felt like I was alone there even when I was. At night, me and my parents would hear dishes clanking and cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen. We would turn on the lights and some would be open. Things were moving on their own.
None of us knew what to do, so we just lived with it. It's amazing what you can learn to live with, truly.
Anyways, during my teenage years, something new started to happen. Just when I was about to fall asleep at night, I would be suddenly shocked awake by the loudest screams of horror, and the worst profanity I have ever heard in my life. A hatred so deep for me, for life, for existence, God, and just... a hatred of being itself. It was terrifying.
I was always a good student. But my grades eventually began to fail. I couldn't stay awake in school. I was so tired, and I found that I could sleep in school without the screaming. So that's what I did, and I failed every single class because of it. I got called lazy and was generally treated badly by teachers and my parents. I became severely depressed and considered killing myself than once.
In 2007, we decided to move to a new house a few miles away. I prayed on the way there that nothing from that old house would follow us. I remember the first night I slept there. I was so afraid, but I eventually gathered up the courage to try. And... nothing happened. I slept like a baby, and I woke up with tears in my eyes the next morning. The sun was shining through the window. It was almost like being born again.
Whatever was in that house, truly did hate me and everything else. I always thought they were spirits of people who had passed on because there was always more than one voice. That maybe my great grandma was trying to warn me. But looking back on it now, it does seem demonic in nature. Like maybe it presented itself as her to attempt to gain my trust? I don't know.
So my question is are ghosts truly demons? Are they behind hauntings and other paranornal phenomena?
Finally, I got the courage to look again and she was gone. I never saw her again. But I never felt like I was alone there even when I was. At night, me and my parents would hear dishes clanking and cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen. We would turn on the lights and some would be open. Things were moving on their own.
None of us knew what to do, so we just lived with it. It's amazing what you can learn to live with, truly.
Anyways, during my teenage years, something new started to happen. Just when I was about to fall asleep at night, I would be suddenly shocked awake by the loudest screams of horror, and the worst profanity I have ever heard in my life. A hatred so deep for me, for life, for existence, God, and just... a hatred of being itself. It was terrifying.
I was always a good student. But my grades eventually began to fail. I couldn't stay awake in school. I was so tired, and I found that I could sleep in school without the screaming. So that's what I did, and I failed every single class because of it. I got called lazy and was generally treated badly by teachers and my parents. I became severely depressed and considered killing myself than once.
In 2007, we decided to move to a new house a few miles away. I prayed on the way there that nothing from that old house would follow us. I remember the first night I slept there. I was so afraid, but I eventually gathered up the courage to try. And... nothing happened. I slept like a baby, and I woke up with tears in my eyes the next morning. The sun was shining through the window. It was almost like being born again.
Whatever was in that house, truly did hate me and everything else. I always thought they were spirits of people who had passed on because there was always more than one voice. That maybe my great grandma was trying to warn me. But looking back on it now, it does seem demonic in nature. Like maybe it presented itself as her to attempt to gain my trust? I don't know.
So my question is are ghosts truly demons? Are they behind hauntings and other paranornal phenomena?