March 7, 2008
Sharing My Bed With a Ghost
Rate this encounter:
Tanina, Mexico, December 20, 1997
I took a trip to Mexico with a dear friend of mine to visit his family. We
stayed at his sister's place -- a small two-bedroom home made from cement.
The home was naturally drafty at night, but it was quaint. I slept on the
bottom bunk and my friend slept on the top bunk. I was sleeping when all of
the sudden I felt my bed depress as if someone had crawled in the bed with
me. I knew it couldn't be my friend because it wasn't something he would do.
I just knew that it was a tall, heavy man, and I became so scared I held my
breath. I felt him spoon me. I then got the courage to move and realized
that I was all alone in the room, and everyone was awake. The bedroom door
was shut. I asked my friend if he had come into the room, and he said no.
As the days went on, more weird things started happen. Every time I would
shut the door and begin to change my clothes, the door would swing open by
itself. This is where I mentioned my experience to the family. My friend's
niece said that a man stokes her hair at night. She also gave me a tip, if
you don't give him any space in the bed, he won't crawl in with you. This
freaked me out. What do you think I did for the next few nights? Slept on
the top bunk, and trying to cover every inch of the mattress with my body!
My friend's sister said the stories were silliness, not true. The
neighborhood kids talked about ghosts like an everyday occurrence -- one of
the kids said, "I have a ghost in my house, too! The ghost probably needs
help. Ask the ghost what it wants." Well, I was writing in my journal one
day in the room sitting on the bottom bunk. The door was closed, when all of
a sudden, a figurine from a shelf on the wall flew like three feet as if
someone had knocked it off. I looked at the figurine still moving on the
floor in disbelief, when in front of me was this ectoplasm of mist. It
looked like cigarette smoke in my face. That's when I was creeped out and in
my bad Spanish I told the ghost I could not help it, that I was an American
on vacation, and that I was tired. Needless to say, I went home a day early
from stress and exhaustion. It was quite an experience. I love ghosts, and
I'm curious about the afterlife, but I am a bit of a chicken.
