A True Tale

What I am about to relate to you is the truth, the truth of what was told to me, that is. I cannot vouch for the truth of the underlying story itself, except to say that the woman who related the story to me did, in fact, move out of the house immediately after this incident occurred. I will relate this story as it was related to me, using the first person, as if she was telling the story to you, just as she had told it to me.

“I was lying in bed one night, and opened my eyes, as I had been dreaming, and I may have been in one of those states between dreaming and waking, but I believe I was awake. The room was very dark, the drapes closed. Bob [husband] was fast asleep, I could feel him next to me. 

I was staring at the ceiling, at the blackness of the room above me, when I began to discern a darker shade of black, a darker shape directly above me. This darkness took on a more distinct and flowing shape the more I looked at it. The shape it took was that of a head with a body, and a black flowing robe, above me, as if hovering directly above me, over the bed. I thought I could even make out small red eyes. 

This shape terrified me, so I closed my eyes. I was not sure if I was dreaming. My heart was pounding and I wanted to go to sleep if I was not sleeping, and out of the dream, if I was dreaming. After a few moments, I opened my eyes. It was there, blacker than the blackness of the room, and it was now hovering not at the ceiling, but a mere foot or two above me. I tried to scream, but I could not speak. 

I tried to rouse Bob, but my hands and arms would not move. The red eyes and flowing black robe were just above me, as if to land on me and swallow me whole. I closed my eyes in horror and did not open them again, knowing I was paralyzed, unable to call for help, and dreading what this evil thing might do should I look upon it again.

 I don’t know how much time passed, but when I next awoke it was morning, and Bob was no longer in bed. I knew I had had a terrible, terrible nightmare. I put on my robe and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for the girls. 

My girls were at the kitchen table, and as I poured them their cereal and milk, one of them asked me what was wrong, because I looked pretty shaken, I guess. I said “Nothing, honey, mommy just had a bad dream.” My daughter replied “Oh, did you see the dark man last night too? 

He was in my room again.”

That is the story I was told. She and her family moved from the house.

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