Years ago, when I was still with my ex-husband and before I got pregnant with our son, we were laying in bed watching TV. Ghost adventures, of all things. He had fallen asleep, but I was suffering from severe (and unexplained) insomnia. Anyway, it was after 2am, I was half watching TV and half cursing my inability to sleep, everything was quiet.
I felt something wrong, like a pressure change in the room. I was mildly concerned but also used to this sort of thing. Then it hit me: the most intense negative vibe I’ve EVER felt, before or since. I instantly broke out in a cold sweat, shaking from the fear (only time this has ever happened to me). I legitimately don’t know how I managed to hold onto my bladder (again, only time this has ever happened to me). I could barely breathe; I was hyperventilating…
Now, as I mentioned before, I’m used to paranormal or otherworldly events. I’ve been extremely sensitive at least since I was a toddler, so normally, I can hold my own. I could not hold my own this night.
Ordinarily, I would at first ignore the entity causing these feelings so as to deprive it of power, and if that didn’t work, I would very forcefully tell it to leave my home. I couldn’t do anything this time. I was utterly consumed with abject terror. Directly after this feeling engulfed me, two things happened simultaneously: I attempted to wake my husband, and our previously benign closet door slowly started to swing open despite the fact that it had been securely latched.
I froze. The negative feeling only intensified, especially once I noticed that I couldn’t wake my husband, no matter how hard I tried. Once the closet fully opened, even though the TV was still on, it seemed as if all light and sound was muted. Even though I was completely terrified, I felt this pull to just lay down and go to sleep.
I began hearing footsteps approaching my husband’s side of the bed: slow, deliberate, heavy footsteps… I still couldn’t wake my husband. Even his breathing pattern didn’t change despite shaking him vigorously and even a couple of slaps to the face. The footsteps moved to the foot of the bed and stopped. Whatever it was, I could feel it staring at me, willing me to fall asleep. I kept resisting. I had no idea what would happen if I closed my eyes, but I knew that if this thing was so desperate for me to sleep, it wouldn’t be anything good.
It took literally everything I had to stay awake. The footsteps eventually made it to my side of the bed, and I could feel this thing breathing on me, but it was odd: it seemed as if its breath contained some kind of sleep agent because the pull to sleep became stronger even as my fear intensified. I’d given up on trying to wake my husband at this point. I knew that whatever this was, it wasn’t going to let him wake up.
I don’t know where I found the strength or the will, but not only did I stay awake, I sat up, looked this thing in the eyes (I couldn’t see it physically, but I somehow knew where to look), and was able to ground out, “You don’t belong here. We don’t belong to you, we will never belong to you, and you can’t have us. Now leave!” I followed the footsteps as they made their way back to the closet and watched as the door slowly shut and latched, becoming innocuous once again, feeling this thing’s surprise and resentment the whole way.
As soon as the latch clicked, all sound and light rushed back, my husband shot up screaming, grabbed me, and said, “Oh my God! I just had the worst (expletive) nightmare! Something came and took you, and I couldn’t stop it!”
I never told my ex-husband what had happened while he was trapped in his forced slumber. He still doesn’t know. I’ve never had another encounter like that, before or since, and hope it never happens again because I’m not sure I’ll be strong enough if it does…