Puberty is hard for any kid, and I started at nine years old with the whole female thing.
We were stationed in Georgia, where we stayed for four years, the longest of any move, and
the last before we retired to Florida's Panhandle where we still live.
The Little Things
Memories of Georgia hold mostly little things. The 'ghosts', or balls of light, once again began
making their appearence, and I soon started sleeping with my door closed. That seemed to solve the
problem of seeing them so often, so if their frequency remained the same, I couldn't say.
This was where I learned to listen to the radio at night so that I wouldn't hear things. My dad
took it away once as punishment, and I was so worried about the coming night, I found a little
battery operated one to hide under my pillow so I could sleep.
Having a human voice, pleasant chatter, made things feel normal, and that I wasn't alone in
a dark room.
The things that plagued me during the four years there were mostly nightmares of the poltergeist
activity. It was no way involved in my reality, but they were frightening.
Often the dreams involved my blankets rising up, pillows floating around the room and then
covering my face to force me back down to the bed.
Interestingly, I had a shelf of horses that
never managed to become involved in the dreams, but stuffed animals were fair game, and many a night
they would crawl up my walls onto the ceiling where they would stare down at me.
Behind my bed was a window, and in those dreams, eyes would be staring in at me.
Whether because of the dreams, or not, it's made me very picky about art, decor, wallpapers, etc,
because I can see eyes staring out of certain designs.
Other dreams I had during 'Georgia time', involved a lot of planetary stuff. We
had a large field behind the house, lots of open sky. In the dreams, the sky would be crowded with
planets, and quickly afterward, platoons of two-foot black, plastic creatures would swarm after me. I'd
race back to the house and try squashing them in the door as they entered. I can only compare it
to a snake dream, where you're scared and can't get far enough away from the floor.
The Ball of Light
The next big event was near Christmas of '79. My grandparents were visiting and sleeping in
my room. I was put in my brother's room, with some blankets on the floor.
Everyone had gone to bed, the house was quiet, and the balls of light came.
I was lying facing the doorway, and remember asking my brother. "Did you see it?"
"No!"
"You did, too!" We talked in stage whispers. Propped on one arm, I kept watching the doorway.
"There! Again! You see it?"
There was a flurry of blanket sounds as he flung the covers over his head. A few seconds passed,
and it floated into view again, but this time stayed there. It might have been five feet away or
so.
I remember being struck by fear and truly whispering this time. "Matt?" No answer. "Matt?"
The light rushed into the room, and that's all I ever remembered.
By the way, my brother has no recollection of any of this event, though he's seen the balls of light
as well.
It was one of my favorite ghost stories to tell my friends. Until 1998, that is. I'd attended
a UFO conference and was relating the story where I finished with the light rushing in, and someone
asked, "And then what happened?"
Um... Well... I didn't know. I'd never even thought about it. No one had ever asked. But now
that they had, and I connected it to other events I was uncertain about, I felt a driving need to
know. What did happen?
It was on my mind often after that, but another year passed before I decided to try and
find out. Someone hooked me up with a regression therapist, hypnotist, whatever you like to call
it, who'd done some work with Budd Hopkins. The session took about an hour, was taped on cassette
recorder, and will be transcribed for a future update.
On the tape, I talk about seeing an alien hiding in the ball of light, and three others
that enter the room.
It still didn't make a hardcore believer out me.
Denial can be a long time friend.
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