Scary Stories I

So it's October, and well, at the end of the month is the best holiday ever Halloween (also my friend Katie's birthday)! 

In the spirit of Halloween and all that is spooky, I decided I would share with you guys some scary stories: real, made up, semi-real. Also a very special scary story for this month's Bloggerstock, which you'll have to wait for patiently, or impatiently. Whichever you prefer.  

******

My house is really haunted. People never believe me and I don't know why. The only person that ever believed me was my friend Rocio. And I think she only believed me because we decided that we should play the Quija board in my living room and ask the ghosts in my house what time it was. First things first, there are no clocks in my living room. And I have the worst internal clock ever. One time, I thought it was 5 am, turned out it was only 11 pm. We asked the board/spirits what time it was and it told us the time. We had to go to the kitchen to verify. 

The scariest thing that has ever happened to me was a not so long ago. I was having a hard time sleeping in my room. It was either too hot, or my bed just did not feel right. I thought that if I slept on the couch, I'd feel better. I grabbed my pillow and my blanket and headed to the living room. 

I fell asleep almost immediately. 

I began having this weird, very vivid dream that I was driving. Near my house is a long stretch boulevard that cuts through the entire city of Chicago. It's pretty neat because it cuts through most of the big parks. It's kind of cool too that it's the fastest way to get from one extreme of the city to the other. It's a very winding road. 

I was dreaming that I was driving Piggy's new car (at the time). For some odd reason, he let me drive without a license, and told me to be careful. I was driving on the boulevard and I saw a kid walking across the street. I assumed he was going to school or leaving school (on each side there is a school). I began to slow down as to not hit the kid. 

Apparently, instead of stepping on the brake, I stepped on the gas. I hit the poor kid with the car. I didn't know what to do so I just kept driving, but at each turn, I kept hitting the same kid. And at each turn, he kept getting bloodier. 

Some how or other, I managed to get off of the boulevard and onto the grid-like system streets that define the city. I was making it home when the kid was at the corner in front of my house ... 

I don't remember the rest of the dream. 

For some weird reason, I woke up in the middle of the night. I sleep facing down. I was slowly turning so that I could see the living room. And as soon as I opened my eyes, I saw the kid I kept hitting with the car in my dream sitting on the floor! Right next to the couch I was sleeping on! 

I quickly turned back around to face the wall and began telling myself that nothing was there. I didn't even think to look again. I was too scared. I had never felt that scared in my life.

In the morning, I told my mom. She looked at me as if I were crazy. She asked me if I had gone out drinking the night before, because sometimes I have weird dreams like that if I go to sleep drunk. I didn't. And then she told me that one time she was home alone, Piggy and I were at our dad's for the weekend and her husband was visiting his sister in North Carolina, when she saw something similar. 

She told me that she fell asleep in the living room while watching television. Out of nowhere, much like I did, she woke up. At first she didn't notice anything and she started to fall back asleep when she heard someone walking in the living room. She thought that it might be our landlords' cat walking upstairs in the attic, so she brushed it off. 

But then she heard giggling. And that scared her. She sat up on the couch and saw a little boy sitting in front of our television set with a bag over his head. Maybe it was the same kid, who knows. It's definetly scary being alone here sometimes. And even when you're not alone, scary things happen and other people who are here didn't hear or see anything. We moved into this house when I was about nine years old. And the scary hasn't stopped since.