I predicted the destruction of the Starship Enterprise. When I was young I had a dream that I was captain of the Enterprise. It turned into a nightmare. At the end of the dream the Enterprise was destroyed with me onboard. I don’t normally remember my dreams but this one was very vivid. The image stuck with me for years. Then fast forward 10 years or so and I’m in the movie theater watching Star Trek (3?). When the Enterprise was destroyed it looked exactly like my dream. The damage, even the angle the destruction was shown. I turned to my friends but couldn’t explain it.
Obviously too much Romulan ale.
I’d have started crying!!
When I was a young teenager I slept in the top of our A-frame house, above the living room; my parent’s bedroom was right beneath mine. One night it was windy, maybe stormy, and I was awakened by someone POUNDing on the living room door. I got out of bed, thinking I must be dreaming, and went to the stairs to listen. More pounding, and then I heard a man shouting my dad’s name. It was surreal–no one ever came to visit, especially at 2 in the morning, and my parents didn’t stir in spite of the noise. I was a pretty logical kid, and I listened long enough to be certain that I wasn’t dreaming and wasn’t hearing just wind or thunder or something.
It went on for a minute or so, and finally I sneaked past the door and woke my dad. He came to investigate…and of course, the porch, yard, entire property that we could see, was empty.
This. Hypnopompia - Wikipedia
For a period of a few years in my early teens I would awaken to extremely realistic extremely terrifying hallucinations in the real world, I’d frequently awaken screaming my head off at whatever horror was coming my way for a few seconds before I’d come back to my senses. I mean this happened at least a hundred times during those years. For whatever reason it completely stopped by the time I was out of high school and I haven’t had an incident since.
This was during a time when my best friend would frequently sleep over, so he knew the drill. I still think of how odd a situation it must have been for him and how brave he was to sleep anywhere near me knowing the situation.
I remember sharing a tent with a guy like that for a week at scout camp. Fun.
Over 30 years ago, I dreamed one early Saturday morning that I was going into an apartment building with Fred, a guy I knew slightly. IRL I had met him a few times, because he was in a circle of college friends with my best friend Mary, but he was just a guy I knew, not a close friend or anything.
Anyhoo, in the dream, Fred and I were walking up the stairs in this old apartment building. When we got to the top floor, which was the living room of the apartment, it came to me that Fred’s family had lived here when he was a little kid, and that one day his sister Vicki had held the toddler Fred out the window and threatened to drop him. (IRL Fred did have a sister named Vicki, but she was younger, not older, so couldn’t have been big enough to manhandle him when he was a toddler.) The “memory” of this incident came to me as soon as we stepped into this room. Okay, I dreamed this about 7 am on a Saturday.
Later that same day, I phoned my best friend Mary to chat, which we did often. She and a bunch of that college group (including Fred and his wife) had moved after college to a city about 1,000 miles away. She and I often told each other our dreams, so I told her the one I had had that morning.
There was silence on the phone. Then she told me that that morning, just a few hours before, Fred had been up on a ladder cutting some tree branches in his yard and had fallen and broken his back. He was at that moment in the hospital awaiting surgery. Yikes.
A few weeks later I went to visit Mary and took my then-boyfriend. We went to see Fred in the hospital, and I SWORE my BF to silence about the dream, as I thought it was just too freaky. But he made some oblique comment, and Fred insisted on knowing what he was talking about. When I told him, he turned as white as the bed sheets. Fred eventually made a full recovery.
I have never dreamed about Fred before or since.
Many many years ago I was a teller at a small local bank. I pulled into the lot one morning and waited for someone with a key to show up. A man pulled in the lot and rushed up to me, he seemed frantic and asked if I could cash his check. I said once we were open I could cash it, did he have an account there, etc etc. He says the check is his wife’s paycheck and he really needs to cash it. I asked if she had signed it and he said ‘no’. I told him she’d have to sign the check or we couldn’t cash it and he said she couldn’t sign it because she was dead. So I told him he’d have to bring in the death certificate, blah blah blah and he said he couldn’t do that because he didn’t couldn’t get a certificate because she wasn’t dead yet, *but she would be any minute. *
HUH?
I started backing away from him, wondering if he had put a hit on her or what was going on.
Then he abruptly left.
Later I found out that the poor man woke up to find his wife in a coma. She had a brain aneurism that ruptured overnight and she did die a few days later. It was sad and I felt bad for getting scared.
and this is the one I haven’t shared with too many people
because people think you’re crazy
My friend was on vacation and I was caring for her dogs. Her neighborhood is in a protected area so there’s a lot of woods, it’s pretty dark and the power goes out a lot.
I pulled up and saw the living room light on and thought cool, I wouldn’t have to walk in total darkness to the door. So I bop on in and turn to the kitchen and hit the light switch and nothing. I pull the chains on the ceiling fan and nothing, so I hit the switch again and still nothing. Now I know the power isn’t out, because the living room light is on, and I know the bulb didn’t burn out because there are 4 of them. Her kitchen is a huge L-shape so I walk around the corner to try the other light and my first thought is ‘damn it’s dark’, as in pitch black can’t see your hand in front of your face dark. This house has a lot of windows and skylights. I would expect at least some light reflecting off the chrome so I could find my way to the switch. I had my arm out in front of me feeling for the switch and all my hair starts standing on end and I’m feeling weird. Kind of like when you walk under power lines. As my hand is hitting the switch I’m think that if I probably shouldn’t be touching it, but too late I already flipped it and nothing. I flip it on and off a few more times and nothing.
I walk around the corner to try the basement lights and grab a flashlight
and I see a woman walking down the hall ahead of me, and it’s not my friend.
Only as I see her, I am seeing through her. Once she got to the living room she vanished, but I saw well enough that she had on dark pants, a red shirt and thin blond hair just past her shoulders.
I tried the lights again and they all came on.
Very unnerving, and I didn’t waste any time feeding the gang and getting out of there.
After my friend got back I told her about it and she said the hair on the woman I saw fit the description of the woman she bought the house from, and that the woman had died recently. Also that she had started keeping one of the bedroom doors shut because it bothered her to see the light going on and off by itself.
Could have warned me.
In the early '90’s the band I was in was playing a biker party at an antebellum mill in Whitesburg, Ga. called Banning Mill. That afternoon, after we set up our gear, we decided to go explore, as it was a really cool, interesting old property. We looked around for awhile and eventually went into a room on the second floor. Our female singer and guitarist entered the room ahead of me. They walked into the middle of the room (I was still in the doorway) and then they both made sort of an incoherent noise and turned around and bolted past me back out of the room. I hadn’t felt anything, but followed them back to the main room we would be playing in later. They both said that they felt a horrible feeling-sort of like a vibration and a biting tinfoil sort of sensation. Our singer said she felt a presence, but that she was sure that it was something that had never been human. As I hadn’t fully entered the room and hadn’t felt anything, they wanted me to go back up to the room and see if I felt anything. The instant I said OK, our PA system started making a really loud, rhythmic “whoosh-whoosh” sound, so we had to troubleshoot that instead. We figured out (by unplugging things one at a time) that the sound was originating from a power-amp. The next day (and thereafter) the power-amp worked fine.
Anyway, we never went back upstairs, as the troubleshooting took time and the incident was kind of scary. Probably coincidence, but later at the party, we were playing “Sympathy For the Devil”. As soon as our guitarist sang the line “As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer” all the power in the building went out, cutting us off and leaving everyone in pitch-darkness.
A year or so prior, our guitarist had done some electrical work in that building with an old, one-legged local blues musician who who claimed to be sensitive to supernatural stuff. One day, he found his co-worker outside. Harl (the co-worker) said that he had gone into a room and felt like he had to get out. He had to get out so urgently that he had to climb one-legged out a second story window. Rick (guitarist) called him the day after our party and described the room. It was the same room.
That’s my spooky story. Banning Mill has recently opened as a tourist attraction, but I haven’t been back.
Not really creepy or unexplainable, but a bit eerie.
I lived in California for a number of years. I got a phone call that my mother died, and I went back to Chicago for the funeral and stayed a while to settle her affairs. When I returned to California, there was a letter she had sent to me a couple of days before she died. It was just an ordinary letter, but it felt a bit like she was communicating with me beyond the grave.
I have so many it’s hard to remember which I’ve told. The following happened on vacation while I was very happy and not expecting anything. It was a complete blindside.
My wife and I were staying at room 37 of the Riverhouse lodge in Gatlinburg and had finished a bottle of good Ocoee wine in front of a roaring fire on a cold November night. The Pigeon river gurgling by and the sounds of nature were intoxicating. The stone hearth was big as a small bed and I think I know why. Life is damned sweet sometimes. We wore ourselves out and went to bed sated and blissfull.
Deep in the night after the fire had burned out and the room chilled. I felt her settle on the bed behind me then slip in and snuggle spoon style against my back. She was so cold I was miffed she would come in from the balcony and freeze me like that. I was about to complain when I realized I was spooned with my wife warm in front of me. That brought me full shuddering what the effing hell awake. Gah. I could still feel the fading sensation on my back.
After a long while I went back to sleep without waking my wife. What exactly would I have told her? It had to be a dream though I had never had one that vivid. About two in the morn I woke teeth chattering freezing. There wasn’t a stitch of cover on us. I turned on the night table light. There was no cover at all. Anywhere. I was stumped. My wife was sound asleep still. Where could the cover be? The bathroom? I got up and made a circuit of the room. There at the foot of the bed as if it had been pulled off and nearly tucked under were the sheets, blanket and comforter. I remade the bed and shiveringly settled in again.
At about three I woke up freezing. Yes. No cover. I was getting pissed. It was damn cold. I found the cover exactly as before. I felt as if something were messing with me and it was creeping my naked butt right the hell out but I was so cold there was no way I was giving in to it. I built the fire high then tucked and folded hospital corner military tight the covers and slipped inside for a sleep that lasted till morning.
Dang that’s a creepy story!! Is there a backstory to that room?
I don’t know that there is a backstory, Corcaigh. It was just a room. I loved the fireplace and balcony and the 1970’s decor. I would even stay there again. Looking back it was sort of exciting. I gave it my best review on Trip Advisor complete with this story. If I had to guess, and based on the number of odd things that have happened to me, I would go with it being something just centered on me.
The thing is, if you believe in science, then you sort of have to laugh off any woo even if it happens to you right? I really don’t know how to take it. My wife and I had a good giggle over it the next morning before calling down to get breakfast. When they told her nobody was staying in the room we were in she looked at me and did the Twilight Zone theme. We actually had to argue with them to get coffee and orange cresent rolls. I wish she had woken during at least the cover part. I can’t express how completely dumbfounded I was to not even be able to locate them the first time.
Sometimes life takes a strange turn and since it happens inconsistently and sometimes there are others there to confirm your experience you have to believe you aren’t crazy either. I’m not sure where that leaves me.
I’d have to say it was the hand coming out of the ground and grabbing me as I was putting flowers on my girlfriend’s grave.
One more short one since rowrrbazzle reminded me.
My wifes favorite uncle died. I really liked the guy too from what little we had talked and I love my wife with every ounce of my being so I had to take off work at an inopportune time to drive her and her mother to Peoria for his funeral. I was an awful drive. It snowed and iced the road to glass so that bumper to bumper traffic could neither go faster than 40 or stop at all quickly. Everything demanded excruciating attention for 200 miles. My nerves were shot when we finally made it home.
On the answering machine was a message from Uncle that said “Thank you Scratch. Goodbye.” I hadn’t done a thing for him before driving his kin to his funeral. We have kept that message on the machine for many years now. He must have made it from his hospital bed just before he died. Near as we can figure it was the last thing he ever said to anyone.
Awww… I love that you said this. It is so beautiful.
She never got over that shower prank.
Maybe it just wanted to see your wiener.
::d&r::
This is in NYC - I went around the corner to get a couple of slices for dinner. As I was going back home with my slices I saw a guy in a doorway. He look kind of gaunt and haggard so I just kept my eyes forward and walked on past. As I passed the doorway he leaned over and whispered in my ear “fuck you too”.
My first husband was Dirty Dozen, the biker “club.” One nite I went to meet him at the bar where they all were. No parking, so I parked the blue International Travelall (old!) down the street. Had a couple, and then I was ready to leave. So he was going to walk me out, and maybe smoke a joint, whatever. There was a “Prospect” (guys trying to join, sort of pledging a fraternity, if you will) and the prospect came with. We were talking, and they were smoking, and I got in the van, and started putting my stuff down, seatbelt etc. And the prospect suddenly saw me, turned ashen and screamed not to start the truck. Huh? Well, bikers are notoriously paranoid, rightfully so, and someone in the bar had told him that a blue van had followed him, and that prospect should watch for a strange blue van. And the son-of-a-bitch had wired explosive (I have no idea what or how) to my spark plug wire or something, does that even make sense? Anyway, apparently, had I started my van, it would have exploded.