My first encounter in 2011 with a shadow person puts me on edge even thinking of it, but it isn't like I can forget. It started when I was 10 years old. I was (and still am) living with my single mother and my older sister, Alayna, in Godfrey, Illinois.
I had recently become interested in the paranormal. I started doing research and watching television programs like Ghost Adventures and The Haunted. Oddly enough, I was intrigued by the topic of "shadow people".
Strange things happened to me. I would hear my name and go to my mother, and she would say she didn't call me. I would go to my sister, and she would say the same and angrily kick me out of her room. Nothing else could have said it. So I simply shrugged it off and started playing games or watching television. I would get back to whatever I was doing quietly before I was interrupted by clearly hearing my name.
I started to feel like I was never alone. I would always say to myself, "It isn't real. You're paranoid. Go pray." Even though I knew it was real, I was lying to myself. I suddenly developed a fear of the dark. It was strange. Whenever it stormed and my mother told me to turn off the television in my room, I would cry and panic and ask to sleep with her. She would reluctantly let me sleep with her, and I got lucky she didn't say no, considering that by then I was 11 years old.
For a strange reason, there were a couple of weeks when I couldn't sleep alone. I would call my cat with some treats and put her in the bed with me. I felt a little safer with my cat. Then that ended and I would flee from the basement. I felt as if I were intruding and something malevolent did not want me down there.
Part of my chores were to clean the cat's litter box and give her water every day. And to feed her, of course. But the problem was, my mother put her water and litter box in the basement because my cat tends to tip things over. So I never wanted to go down there unless mother went down with me.
There's a room in the basement, where we have a television and a bar with stools. Mostly, we never go down there, but I would go down there with my cat because it was an open place to play with her toys with her.
I would see small, black, human-like figures disappear into the wall. I paid no mind, even though I could not stop thinking of it at the same time. I tried to ignore it. In the corner of my eye -- there it was again! My stomach had dropped and I ran upstairs. I didn't look back. My cat looked afraid of something. A couple of minutes after standing at the top of the stairs and listening to her pitiful yowls, I mustered up all of the bravery I could and marched down the steps and got her.
A couple of weeks after, nothing else really happened. I was almost sure it was gone. I was wrong. The activity picked up more and more. Things would knock down. I got touched -- usually poked on the back of my shoulder. Or brushed on the leg. I would feel something sit on my bed. Assuming it was my cat, I would look up and nothing was there. I began to stay up all night playing with my phone or watching television.
There was one morning. I cannot recall the date. But I had stayed up again, it was a Sunday morning at 5 or 6 a.m. Then my eyes drew to the wall behind my door. I saw something very terrifying. It was a shadow, slowly casting over that wall. I could make out a fedora and broad shoulders. It cast over the door and was gone.
A week after that, I was playing with my tablet at 3 in the morning and I saw a purplish mist in my peripheral vision. It formed and disappeared. Things follow me. I was walking into the kitchen to the light switch. Something was close behind, I felt it. It was VERY close behind. I turned to confront it, but nothing was there.
I still felt a presence. What terrified me the most was that I could not see it. Imagery in my mind. I randomly think of things. One thing I always remember is the thought of a window being open to a beautiful, blue, cloudy sky. Then it sharply closes. I didn't just come up with that. I often get woken up.
As of October, 2012, I have seen more and know more. I wake up often around 3-4 a.m., knowing I'm not alone. I felt like something hated me. My eyes went to the doorway and nothing was there. When I try to welcome sleep, I feel that if I turn around, I will see the "shadow man" once again. I can't talk about it to anyone because my mother will just get angry if I tell her of my encounters.