Post by Penny on Feb 5, 2012 20:01:04 GMT -5
((Warning, pretty... erm... creepy.))
You know that weird feeling- when you have a dream, yet it seems so real? You suddenly wake up, surprised that it wasn’t… but what if it was?
What if your dream was a memory? One you’d repressed, or forgot. As soon as you wake up, it comes flooding back as if a dam has just broken. All the horrors, feelings, sounds, and sights that you’d tried so hard to never remember again…
My grandfather’s house remains one of the coolest places in my life, near and dear to my heart. It’s filled with almost everything- he’s a sort of hording collector, but super-organized due to his OCD. He goes daily garage-sailing as well. His house has always been a symbol for me, for holidays, family, and home. It has remained a beacon, stationary while everything else changes.
Last year I had a horrible nightmare. Or at least, I’d thought it was a nightmare. As I woke up, I realized it sounded much, much too familiar… and upon thinking it over for a while, I realized that, yes, this did actually happen. There have been a couple of such incidents, and I really will get to them all, but I think this one is the one I need to say the most.
I was about… four, maybe five. We lived at our old house, on Curtis Street, long before it burned down. I’m reasonably sure this happened during summer, since I wasn’t in school. My older siblings were at their friends’ houses, spending the night. My parents were going out to dinner, I think, and thus dropped me off at my grandpa’s house. Now Grandpa had his plans, and just decided to work me into them. We went to eat together, and then we went on his usual escapade of garage-sailing around town. While not terribly much happened there, at the second or third house, I found something I REALLY wanted.
A grey tote, not unlike the ones that litter both of our houses nowadays, was, at this house, filled to the brim with VHSes. Many, many children’s movies were at the top, including the ones that got me to want it so bad- Rugrats, Little Bear, and Barney. Needless to say, Grandpa table talked the tote down from five dollars to one. That night my dad was lugging a tote of VHSes into my bedroom.
My bedroom was the back room, separate from most of the house, right past the bathroom and the laundry room/bed room where, at this point in time, my parents slept. My bedroom was big, and it was my own- our family friend had yet to move in with her kids. I had my bed, my Mother Goose (a goose that played cassette tapes), my closet and dresser, and finally, at the far end, across from my bed, a simple, 20 or so inch TV- relatively small by normal standards now. Each night I’d either fall asleep with a movie or a cassette tape, and tonight it would be the TV- and the next several nights as well. I was determined to go through each of these tapes and figure out what they were.
The next few days proceeded as normal, and at night I’d fall asleep with various tapes. The first few nights I’d play something I knew well, like the ones I mentioned earlier, plus several Disney movies and musicals. Then I started getting to the bottom. Unmarked tapes lay there, staring out and above, waiting to be picked up and put into the VCR. I never once had a bad feeling about this- why would I? I had tons of unmarked tapes from my grandpa’s house- all different types of movies.
This tape had a movie I recall quite clearly. Wizard of Oz- the first time I’d gotten to see it. I watched it, riveted, twice in a row. The second time, however, I was so tired that I finally fell asleep shortly after Dorothy got to Oz.
I don’t remember the time. I barely remember waking up. All I know is that I suddenly was. A roaring static filled my room, buzzing so loud that it was a wonder it didn’t wake up the whole house. The brilliant glow off of the television screen poured over my bed and me, over my toy chest, pouring over my closet, my dresser, and Mother Goose.
Static was never usually loud enough to wake me up. I’d usually open my eyes in the morning and the television would be off, as if by magic, as the tape had stopped rolling and rewound. I wasn’t sure what woke me up about this static, then. But I jolted wide awake, hands to my ears, staring at the TV a few seconds. I could see something moving behind the static, a sort of object. And then, just as I was about to get off my bed to turn it down, the static cut off.
In the middle of my screen was a little girl. She was maybe my age, and skipping rope in a park. She looked normal at least. I suddenly realized that this must be a home video. I rubbed my eyes, lying back in bed, watching the video boredly. It was shortly thereafter that I realized that this was taking a really long while. Why was she jumping rope for so long? Wouldn’t it get boring? And why was the video focused on it? Maybe she was trying to earn a new record…
The video started cutting out, lines going every which way. Still, no big deal. The tape was probably faulty here or something. Our home videos did it too. Static came back in. The oddness about this was that it faded out into the next part of the film. A man stepped into view of the camera. He was older, perhaps in his fifties, and smiled and waved at the camera.
“Hello kids.” He said. His voice didn’t seem out of the ordinary, but it did sound really... down. Depressed, sort of. “I regret to inform you that this is my last video.” A mechanical ‘aw’ sounded through my bedroom- like an old sitcom. “Yes, yes- your old friend Freddy’s got to leave you now. I need some help. Do you think you’re up for it?” A few seconds of silence was here- like in Dora the Explorer, when a kid is supposed to commentate back. “Good. I knew I could count on you. I’ve gotten into some… trouble, and have to be sent far away to a little dungeon. Please promise me you’ll come and see me. You’d just brighten my day!” He smiled big then. A few heavy, loud knocks were heard, and he looked slightly panicked. “Goodbye, my friends! Please keep your promise!”
With that, the static came back. It lasted a few minutes, and then the screen cut to blue as the tape was rewound. This laid in my mind. Something wasn’t right.
I got up, after a short while, and grabbed out one of the other unmarked tapes. I ejected the first one, tossing it underneath my bed, and I turned this one on.
This tape was… a bad one. I realized suddenly that I hadn’t rewound it. Normally I wouldn’t have noticed, but for this one I came right in to a horror that since hasn’t left me.
The place where I started was in a dark room. For a few seconds I couldn’t make out any of the figures thanks to the darkness. But my eyes soon caught a bed, and two figures within- one larger, taller, more angular, dwarfing the other one- an indescribably tiny person. All I heard was crying and gentle creeks and all I saw was…
I can’t even describe the tape. Even while writing my eyes are tearing up and my heart is racing. I’m not usually so faint of heart- but this was something that truly screwed me up, I believe, and explains much of what’s gone on in my head since. I quickly ejected the tape, threw it across the room and ran to my parents’ bed, crying and crawling in between them. I lied and told them I’d had a nightmare. I didn’t want them to take away all my movies, which is what I thought would happen at first.
The next day I asked my Grandpa the address of the place. I don’t remember what it was by now, nor do I remember the name of the family who lived there. But I do remember asking my parents about that place, about the family. They seemed confused, not telling me exactly what I wanted to know. So, by afternoon, I gave in. I showed them the tape I’d thrown (which had made it to rest beside Mother Goose). They were horrified and asked me if I had any others, so I fast forwarded the tape from underneath my bed.
As it turned out, the man was the father of the woman who owned the house we’d stopped at, who was imprisoned at the state penitentiary for child molestation and sexual assault. At that time, being so young, I didn’t understand. My parents took away the offending videotapes and called the police- though it was soon found that the woman and her husband were only committing a crime of stupidity for not watching the tapes before selling them and my parents dropped the charges.
I’m unsure how I forgot this huge episode. I think it was probably through the combined efforts of my parents and siblings to MAKE me forget about it. I actually was only able to learn a bit of the details of the second day from my father, matching them up with the dream I’d had. It still horrifies me to this day.
You know that weird feeling- when you have a dream, yet it seems so real? You suddenly wake up, surprised that it wasn’t… but what if it was?
What if your dream was a memory? One you’d repressed, or forgot. As soon as you wake up, it comes flooding back as if a dam has just broken. All the horrors, feelings, sounds, and sights that you’d tried so hard to never remember again…
My grandfather’s house remains one of the coolest places in my life, near and dear to my heart. It’s filled with almost everything- he’s a sort of hording collector, but super-organized due to his OCD. He goes daily garage-sailing as well. His house has always been a symbol for me, for holidays, family, and home. It has remained a beacon, stationary while everything else changes.
Last year I had a horrible nightmare. Or at least, I’d thought it was a nightmare. As I woke up, I realized it sounded much, much too familiar… and upon thinking it over for a while, I realized that, yes, this did actually happen. There have been a couple of such incidents, and I really will get to them all, but I think this one is the one I need to say the most.
I was about… four, maybe five. We lived at our old house, on Curtis Street, long before it burned down. I’m reasonably sure this happened during summer, since I wasn’t in school. My older siblings were at their friends’ houses, spending the night. My parents were going out to dinner, I think, and thus dropped me off at my grandpa’s house. Now Grandpa had his plans, and just decided to work me into them. We went to eat together, and then we went on his usual escapade of garage-sailing around town. While not terribly much happened there, at the second or third house, I found something I REALLY wanted.
A grey tote, not unlike the ones that litter both of our houses nowadays, was, at this house, filled to the brim with VHSes. Many, many children’s movies were at the top, including the ones that got me to want it so bad- Rugrats, Little Bear, and Barney. Needless to say, Grandpa table talked the tote down from five dollars to one. That night my dad was lugging a tote of VHSes into my bedroom.
My bedroom was the back room, separate from most of the house, right past the bathroom and the laundry room/bed room where, at this point in time, my parents slept. My bedroom was big, and it was my own- our family friend had yet to move in with her kids. I had my bed, my Mother Goose (a goose that played cassette tapes), my closet and dresser, and finally, at the far end, across from my bed, a simple, 20 or so inch TV- relatively small by normal standards now. Each night I’d either fall asleep with a movie or a cassette tape, and tonight it would be the TV- and the next several nights as well. I was determined to go through each of these tapes and figure out what they were.
The next few days proceeded as normal, and at night I’d fall asleep with various tapes. The first few nights I’d play something I knew well, like the ones I mentioned earlier, plus several Disney movies and musicals. Then I started getting to the bottom. Unmarked tapes lay there, staring out and above, waiting to be picked up and put into the VCR. I never once had a bad feeling about this- why would I? I had tons of unmarked tapes from my grandpa’s house- all different types of movies.
This tape had a movie I recall quite clearly. Wizard of Oz- the first time I’d gotten to see it. I watched it, riveted, twice in a row. The second time, however, I was so tired that I finally fell asleep shortly after Dorothy got to Oz.
I don’t remember the time. I barely remember waking up. All I know is that I suddenly was. A roaring static filled my room, buzzing so loud that it was a wonder it didn’t wake up the whole house. The brilliant glow off of the television screen poured over my bed and me, over my toy chest, pouring over my closet, my dresser, and Mother Goose.
Static was never usually loud enough to wake me up. I’d usually open my eyes in the morning and the television would be off, as if by magic, as the tape had stopped rolling and rewound. I wasn’t sure what woke me up about this static, then. But I jolted wide awake, hands to my ears, staring at the TV a few seconds. I could see something moving behind the static, a sort of object. And then, just as I was about to get off my bed to turn it down, the static cut off.
In the middle of my screen was a little girl. She was maybe my age, and skipping rope in a park. She looked normal at least. I suddenly realized that this must be a home video. I rubbed my eyes, lying back in bed, watching the video boredly. It was shortly thereafter that I realized that this was taking a really long while. Why was she jumping rope for so long? Wouldn’t it get boring? And why was the video focused on it? Maybe she was trying to earn a new record…
The video started cutting out, lines going every which way. Still, no big deal. The tape was probably faulty here or something. Our home videos did it too. Static came back in. The oddness about this was that it faded out into the next part of the film. A man stepped into view of the camera. He was older, perhaps in his fifties, and smiled and waved at the camera.
“Hello kids.” He said. His voice didn’t seem out of the ordinary, but it did sound really... down. Depressed, sort of. “I regret to inform you that this is my last video.” A mechanical ‘aw’ sounded through my bedroom- like an old sitcom. “Yes, yes- your old friend Freddy’s got to leave you now. I need some help. Do you think you’re up for it?” A few seconds of silence was here- like in Dora the Explorer, when a kid is supposed to commentate back. “Good. I knew I could count on you. I’ve gotten into some… trouble, and have to be sent far away to a little dungeon. Please promise me you’ll come and see me. You’d just brighten my day!” He smiled big then. A few heavy, loud knocks were heard, and he looked slightly panicked. “Goodbye, my friends! Please keep your promise!”
With that, the static came back. It lasted a few minutes, and then the screen cut to blue as the tape was rewound. This laid in my mind. Something wasn’t right.
I got up, after a short while, and grabbed out one of the other unmarked tapes. I ejected the first one, tossing it underneath my bed, and I turned this one on.
This tape was… a bad one. I realized suddenly that I hadn’t rewound it. Normally I wouldn’t have noticed, but for this one I came right in to a horror that since hasn’t left me.
The place where I started was in a dark room. For a few seconds I couldn’t make out any of the figures thanks to the darkness. But my eyes soon caught a bed, and two figures within- one larger, taller, more angular, dwarfing the other one- an indescribably tiny person. All I heard was crying and gentle creeks and all I saw was…
I can’t even describe the tape. Even while writing my eyes are tearing up and my heart is racing. I’m not usually so faint of heart- but this was something that truly screwed me up, I believe, and explains much of what’s gone on in my head since. I quickly ejected the tape, threw it across the room and ran to my parents’ bed, crying and crawling in between them. I lied and told them I’d had a nightmare. I didn’t want them to take away all my movies, which is what I thought would happen at first.
The next day I asked my Grandpa the address of the place. I don’t remember what it was by now, nor do I remember the name of the family who lived there. But I do remember asking my parents about that place, about the family. They seemed confused, not telling me exactly what I wanted to know. So, by afternoon, I gave in. I showed them the tape I’d thrown (which had made it to rest beside Mother Goose). They were horrified and asked me if I had any others, so I fast forwarded the tape from underneath my bed.
As it turned out, the man was the father of the woman who owned the house we’d stopped at, who was imprisoned at the state penitentiary for child molestation and sexual assault. At that time, being so young, I didn’t understand. My parents took away the offending videotapes and called the police- though it was soon found that the woman and her husband were only committing a crime of stupidity for not watching the tapes before selling them and my parents dropped the charges.
I’m unsure how I forgot this huge episode. I think it was probably through the combined efforts of my parents and siblings to MAKE me forget about it. I actually was only able to learn a bit of the details of the second day from my father, matching them up with the dream I’d had. It still horrifies me to this day.
