This is my second experience with a white man. It was late, I was having trouble sleeping, and laying wide awake in my bed late at night. I was laying to the left when my fingers started to move. I know what you’re thinking “Um yeah fingers do that.” So here’s the problem. I was lying pretty still with my iPod in one hand and my other hand open beside the pillow, and they just started to move on their own, I wasn’t doing it I mean.
Inwards and outwards. Like someone was pulling at them. I stared at them for a while, and I got kind of annoyed, I thought maybe it was just one of those weird perks on your body. But at the same time I was annoyed because of how fast and fluent the movement was. Like I said before, almost like someone was pulling them. Also because a few weeks before that I woke up to what I thought was the feeling of someone kissing me, and I had brushed that off already.
Thinking it was a vivid dream that had just somehow pushed itself into my waking world. I had tried forgetting about it and thinking I was imagining the feeling. But just like anything else I still remembered it. After I stared at my fingers for a while, I turned around to the other side of my bed and they stopped moving. Well themselves. It’s not like I couldn’t move them after that.
But here’s the part that scared the living “bleep” out of me. I turned around on my back and sat up a little higher, and I caught a glimpse of my desk, and I thought when I first saw what I thought I saw it was a trick in the light. I leaned up a little higher so I could look right at my desk thinking it would fade away and I’d be able to see it was a stack of books or drawing pads or something. But what I thought I saw didn’t change when I adjusted my eyes.
I looked over and I thought that I was looking at a man, in a robe, leaning on my desk. A silhouette of a man anyway, a really tall, vivid silhouette. For a few seconds I didn’t want to move because I thought if I moved the man by my desk would move too. But it scared me enough that I sat up and quickly as I could and switched on the light.
And I looked back, there was nobody there. Not sure what I was planning if there was a man there, maybe a serial killer. “I’ll kick your butt with the power of light” he would’ve killed the “bleep” out of me. But then, like I said before, after I switched on the light there wasn’t anyone there.
After that I went out to the living room and shut off all the lights because I thought I’d have to tell my sister something if she saw me switch on the light. I had to have a reason to do that right? Also, I didn’t really want to be in there anymore. I sat on the living room couch and collected my pillow and I tried sleeping on the couch and even though I was exhausted I kept thinking of my sister.
Who was still in our room. I’m not sure if she was awake for any of it really. But I thought, if whatever I saw had any truth to it, there’s no way I can sleep in here and leave her in there. So I came back to my room and slept. I spent all day telling myself that I was seeing things, and over the course of the next few weeks, kept turning off the lights in my room and looking at my desk, thinking I had stacked some paper in a weird way.
But no matter how I looked at it, it just seemed like a regular desk in the dark. So there you have it, my experience, a white man who. Stands still and stares at me. This is taken directly from a document I wrote where I keep track of everything weird that happens to me. I grew up in a family that doesn’t believe in the supernatural under any circumstances, my sister is also atheist, my brother and me are agnostic.
If I even put on a supernatural TV show they will usually say things like, “You don’t actually believe them do you? This is so fake.” I spent a long time pretending everything I saw wasn’t real, and it wasn’t happening. I told myself I was imagining it, and that I was mentally ill or something. I spent a really long time scouring any source I could find on mental disorders, but no matter where I went I only found dead ends.