This is somewhat of a long story, so please edit as you see fit :).
This incident happened in the home I grew up in. The home was located on farm land and was built by my parents. The aprox year was 1978/79, when I was 8/9 years old. The home was a two story house. Two bedrooms upstairs & two bedrooms downstairs, one of which was the master. The other bedroom downstairs was mine. I had three older siblings, all much older than I. The closest sibling to me was 9 years older (just to give you an idea). My oldest brother was no longer living at home (in the Navy & 13 yrs older), and my sister had just moved out (she is 11 years older). For some reason I can’t recall if my closest sibling (brother) was still living in the home or not. I just draw a blank. I feel like he wasn’t, but it’s murky. Being the youngest, I was excited to move my bedroom upstairs to my sisters old room. I remember it being a big deal. Repainting, moving things, etc. I don’t remember exactly how long I was in the room before the “dreams” started. I will try and explain them as best I can. Remember, I am an 8/9 yr old little girl, I can explain the dreams but not the shear panic I would experience. Falling asleep, I would drop instantly into a panic. Heart in my throat, body pounding. I would be sitting in a hard back, wooden chair, in the middle of a room. I was completely unable to move from this chair. I was frozen. My mind knew what was happening but my body could not respond. There was nothing in this room, except for me and the chair. No doors, no windows. The rooms floor was a perfect square. The walls reached so far up, that you could barely see the four corners (like when your on stage and the lights are so bright, you can’t really see the audience). Out of the four corners of the room came different four dimensional shapes. They would come out of the corners and reach down towards me, all at different times, (think laser light show). There was no color. The room was light (maybe white, but not bright white). This would continue, until I could struggle myself out of the dream. I would be in the chair, but then, I would know that I was dreaming and I would be in the bed. In my head, I would tell myself, that if I could just get my mouth open to yell for my parents, it would end. It would be such a struggle to pry my lips open, but once I did it, I would be able to get a noise out and I would yell my head off. My parents would run up the stairs and shake me and shake me, until I could get out. I could never explain it at the time. I don’t know how long I had these “dreams”. I do know I had them repeatedly, night after night. Always exactly the same. They didn’t stop until my parents moved my room back downstairs, where my previous room had been. After that,,,never again.
Submitted by Andrea MW, Liminal Ambassador