To: The Official Shadow People Archives
Sent: Sunday, August 22, 2010 10:49:28 PM
Subject: Shadow Person experience
I don't know why I felt compelled to write this email; typically, I keep my paranormal experiences to myself. I share the same fear as many: I don't want to be considered "crazy". Also, I tend to approach these things with rational, scientific reasoning, and to be perfectly honest, I do not watch paranormal shows or read the subject matter much because it seems to be lacking this sort of reasoning. Typically, "hauntings" and the like can be explained by conventional means. In the same vein, unless I have an indisputable experience, I push it out of my mind as if it had never occurred.
I should relate my background: I don't like the term "Irish Witch" as I think it is terribly misleading, but it's a label nonetheless. Really, what it refers to is people along the lines of Irish families that have particular abilities. I come from an old Irish family, and the trait seems to occur once per generation. My great-grandmother was this way, as was my Granddad. Next in line is Aunt Maureen, and then there's me. It seems that Aunt Maureen's first granddaughter has the trait, too. I am unsure of what exactly this is or what it entails, but it seems to manifest itself in different ways or talents in all of us. None of our "gifts" are exactly the same, although there does tend to be overlap with certain abilities.
Mine have never been as innocuous as my relatives', however. I am not sure what to contribute this to, but if I was willing to take an educated guess, I would think that it would have a lot to do with having an identical twin that died at birth. Her presence is constant, and I can describe my entire life as feeling as if I had "one foot here, and one foot in another world".
I was raised Catholic, but I never agreed with the dogma -- even at a very early age. True to form, I was searching for scientific answers back then, too. I usually tell people I'm an atheist for convenience, although I can best explain my views as seeing the divine in physics. Even though I have always been poor at math, I excel in this particular field. I got into radiation physics when I was nine (I know that sounds odd, but I was always a bright kid), and it was finally the thing I had been looking for to explain how I felt about everything. Physics fit like the proverbial glove. I still have a strong interest in the subject (and my chosen career is a radiation-related field). In a more spiritual sense, I suppose my system of belief -- or, at the very least, one that fits well with the physics mindset -- is close to Gnosticism or Platoism, with maybe some aspects of Buddhism and/or Hinduism thrown in for good measure (the whole thing with karma relating so readily with Conservation of Energy and all of that).
I should also point out that I am an epileptic, and I am aware of visual and auditory disturbances accompanying seizures, along with overwhelming feelings of anxiety and dread. Again, however, if I doubted an experience in the slightest, I would discount it immediately, and this certainly applies to my condition. I can say with certainty that my experiences (that I have the utmost faith in) did not occur when I was in status elipilecticus, nor did they happen at times immediately preceding or following seizures, especially within a twenty-four hour time period.
Otherwise, I'm a fairly normal twenty-eight-year-old female. I want to fall in love. I like music. I knit and crochet to keep my great-grandmother's memory alive. I like music an awful lot. I've always been a good writer. Many of my stories have a horror or science-fiction bend, which I think come directly from my experiences. It's not like I can talk about this sort of thing with anybody -- and I simply just don't -- so turning it into fiction is a good outlet. I'd be a lot less sane otherwise. I do not do drugs, and I rarely drink alcohol.
All of that being said, as expected, I have had lifelong experiences with this type of thing. But specifically speaking of shadow people: I have seen them many times throughout my life. I can't remember the first time I saw one, but I'm sure it was during early childhood. Between the ages of eleven and thirteen, the appearances got particularly bad -- so unbearable, in fact, that I would refuse to sleep for days on end. Because of this, I don't know if I should include those experiences or not, given my epilepsy and the fact that the condition is aggravated by lack of proper sleep. But at that age in particular, it seemed like they were around an awful lot. I don't know why.
I know it sounds strange, but encounters with the supernatural became so commonplace that I kind of learned to shrug them off. It wasn't just the Shadow People in that regard; it was everything. Every presence felt in any particular place, good or bad. I think I may have reached a point that I was tired of these things, that I wanted to be "normal" more than anything. Eventually -- really, in my early to mid-twenties -- I just learned to accept it. This is who I am, and like it or not, I'm probably doing more harm than good trying to make myself closed to this sort of thing.
One particular experience is one I should relate: It occurred a few years ago when I was living in my old apartment. It was my first place after moving to the big city. I did not expect anything to stop on account of leaving my hometown -- Is it possible that these things sort of follow a person? I lived in an old building, and I wished I had paid closer attention before signing the lease (and not just for supernatural reasons! The place was horribly mismanaged, but what did I know? It was my first real place away from home, and I was so excited to finally be out of my small town). After I moved in, I had the distinct feeling that something was "off", but I attributed it to starting a new job in a strange new city. That's enough to make anyone feel "off", so I ignored the little voice in my head that was flashing red.
One night, I was sitting on the couch in the living room. I was alone. I was reading a book, and I even remember which one. (It was Ray Bradbury's "Martian Chronicles", which I've read a million times since I was a teenager. It's my favorite book, and it's very comforting to me.) All of the lights were on. I was listening to music with headphones. Suddenly, I noted some movement out of the corner of my eye. I set down the book and looked up, and before my eyes adjusted I felt a chill -- something was very wrong. And that's when I saw it. A Shadow Person was standing at one side of the room, by the door. It was tall, and it had the distinct outline of a hat. It had no eyes or face. It was, literally, shadow. It was certainly two-dimensional, although I got the sense that it was three dimensional in a sense -- like it was simultaneously here and in another place. Like it was just sort of laying ON space or time rather than actively inhabiting it.
Typically, my experiences with Shadow People had been fleeting, but just long enough to know what I had seen and feel extremely unnerved. This time was different. It walked to the center of the room. It moved with sort of jerky movements -- sort of like stop-motion animation in a way. I got the feeling that it wasn't moving with time, or at least OUR time. It was in and out of time or space. But watching it move was definitely the worst part. It was so unnatural. It stopped directly in front of me, and we were separated by the coffee table. And then it just stood there for ten seconds or so. Even though it didn't have eyes, I could feel it staring. Then it vanished. It didn't vanish in a typical sense or sort of melt away or anything like that. It sort of de-atomized, or something. Like it just sort of broke apart into little pieces, into the basic structure of whatever exactly composed it. It was leaving this place for another one -- presumably where it had come from in the first place -- and its molecules kind of punched through the air. That part is hard to explain. It wasn't like a big door or gateway or anything. It was like the air in front of me sort of parted in a way, but it didn't exactly. Again, I really don't know how to put this into words. The air didn't part in full, but it was like the molecules just sort of passed through. That sort of made a sound -- kind of like tiny thunderclaps, the type of sound whenever air is sucked up from a place rapidly and a temporary vacuum is created. The air itself felt like a thunderstorm momentarily. And when the pieces passed through the air, there'd be color. I couldn't physically SEE the color, but it's kind of like I felt it. I can't explain that, either, other than offering sort of a theory: You know how we see color because waves of light are vibrating at particular frequencies? That's what this was like. Whatever was happening was buzzing at just the right frequency to be kind of a bright purple. I'd say it was a few shades down from magenta.
My apartment faced the back of the building, overlooking the parking lot. The parking lot was sort of carved into a cliff-face (this is Pittsburgh, after all), and it is possible that, if somebody drove in with their high beams on, the light could bounce into my apartment to some degree, even though I lived on the third floor. I've analyzed the light, time of day, and all other technical factors (my other big hobby is photography, so I know an awful lot about how light works and how it behaves). Shifting shadows could not cause something like that to happen, especially a free-standing shadow in the absolute center of the room. (Believe me, I tried to duplicate it just to make absolutely sure it had happened.)
I got the distinct impression that this thing ABSOLUTELY wanted me to see it. Again, it certainly wasn't my first experience with a Shadow Person, but they never behaved that aggressively before.
I saw Shadow People other times in that apartment, but never as dramatic as that. Ever since I moved to my current place, I have not seen any. Then again, on the first day I moved in, I got the distinct impression of a presence. It wasn't a bad one at all. It was definitely human (or had been at one time, obviously). I got the impression that it was an old man who had ties with the building, although I can't tell if he owned the place at one time or simply lived here. Whatever the case, it seems like he's taking care of the place, which is fine by me. Every once in a while, I feel something sit at the foot of my bed and I see sort of a nebulous cloud. Since I sleep with the blankets almost all the way over my head, there's been a few times that I've felt the blanket tugged slightly, to my ears. I think he's just saying hello or letting me know he's around. My roommate has noticed some things as well, so it's not just me. But since he seems like such a nice guy who wants to protect this place, I wonder if he's keeping the Shadow People away -- if that's even possible?
I have no idea what Shadow People are, but I get the feeling that they're bad. Maybe not outright malevolent -- I've come across things that were downright malevolent -- but bad nonetheless. It feels kind of like a sort of negative (but largely inert) energy. I think they come from a dimension that intersects with our own. But the thing I hate most about them (other than when they move) is that I simply can't get a read. They are not nor ever have been human -- I would pick up on that -- but it's almost like they're mindless to a degree. I mean, there's some kind of thought or functioning (or whatever) going on, but they feel more like PROCESS than LIVING THING, if that makes any sense. (It probably doesn't, I know.)
As for getting rid of them, I don't know what to say. I've read that some people pray, but I don't pray or believe in God (or at least the concept of the one from the Old Testament), so praying would be nothing more than empty words for me -- and that wouldn't work. It seems that these things like fear. So, I keep myself composed and do my best not to be afraid, other than having simply a "healthy fear" (like if I saw a bear out in the woods or something. Healthy fear would tell me to stay away.) and steel myself. I get angry, but not TOO angry -- I get the sense that they love negative emotions (maybe even thrive on them), so one can't be outright pissed off. Just enough to protect yourself and your home and to be able to stand up to the thing. Sometimes I sort of growl through clenched teeth "GET. OUT.", and other times I give it the hardest stare I can. That seems to work. Maybe they know that they're incapable of really doing anything, and they don't stand a chance against my resolve. But if that's the case, why do they keep showing up? Are they trying to scare me? Because by this point it's mostly ineffective. Still, I always take them as a bad omen.
I'm sorry for the length of this email, but I don't really like talking about this kind of stuff with others, so I had a lot to get off my chest. I sincerely hope that you don't think I'm crazy or that I'm making it up. (Maybe that's why I never tell people; I'm so afraid of how they'd react, and it really does sound crazy.) I included every detail I could think of. Maybe somebody else won't feel so alone and can relate to my story.
I'd appreciate it if you gave me a pseudonym and didn't use my email address if you do indeed decide to post this.