When I was a little girl, my parents used to tell me "There's no such thing as ghosts.", or "Monsters under your bed? Nah, they're not real!" And I used to believe them. Used to.
Call it what you may - the divine, the supernatural, the spirit world. I have had three encounters with them.
The year was 2001 and I was 9 years old.
It was the end of the year during the holidays. I was reading a book when I started nodding off. I realized it was around 2.30am and decided I should go to sleep.
Leaving my book lying open on the table, I turned off the lights and tucked myself into bed.
I was drifting off to sleep when something jolted me back to wakefulness.
The pages of the book I'd left on my table were flipping over furiously, as though there was a frightful gale ripping through the room. As I only had my ceiling fan spinning lazily around, I knew that it couldn't be the wind. I never felt even a breeze.
I dared not open my eyes. I didn't know what I would see. I was afraid.
So I pretended to be asleep, hoping that whatever It was, It would realize that it would be futile to do mischief onto a person in slumber and leave me alone.
As abruptly as it had begun, the pages of the book came to a rest.
Had It left?
As I breathed a sigh of relief, something else made my body stiffen in fear.
The chair at my table was being dragged across the floor, making a distinct scraping sound.
My heart beat so strongly I felt as though my chest would burst.
I kept my eyes tightly shut and forced myself to keep my breathing calm. Please, please, go away and leave me alone, I prayed. I stayed still, not moving a muscle for what seemed like forever.
I woke up the next morning none the worse for my experience.
Such tells the first of my encounters with the supernatural.