The Lady in the Cottage

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The first thing I’m going to tell is a dream I had when I was a kid. I had this dream almost every night as far back as I can remember, and ’till I was about 8 or 9.

The dream takes place in an old wooded house or cottage out in the woods. The light is really red, like it’s warm or something. In this cottage there lives a woman who is pregnant, looks like the last trimester. She lives alone as far as I can remember. In the dream she goes to bed as normal, but when she wakes up her baby is gone, cut out of her stomach. By this point I am the lady. I look around, cry, and all of a sudden, what feels like a bloody finger, is poking my back, always at the same place. This makes me wake up, look around the room, no one there. Even though I’m wide awake at this point, I can still feel where the finger poked me.

What I really think is weird about this dream is how a 2-3 year old could have know that it actually is possible to cut a baby out of a stomach. No one in our family has had a baby with cesarean. I also find it weird that I dreamt it over and over again.

During the same period as the dream I would often wake up and see someone in my door. I always slept with the door open, I was afraid of the dark so it was to get some light in to my room. I usually saw a boy or a man just leaning to the frame of the door.

I also often has this feeling like someone is watching me. You know that feeling you get in your back. That uncomfortable feeling. This usually happens when I walk up the stair to the second floor of my parents house. I sometimes run up the stairs, and into my room, shut the door as fast as I can. May be childish, but I feel like I have to.

The other thing started happening just a few years ago. Maybe when I was 13, I am now 21. When I was home alone I was usually in my room, which is on the second floor. All the lights downstairs were off. If I went down to make some food or get something, I would not go into to the living room turning the lights on, just wouldn’t dare to. I was, and still am, sure there will be someone in the sofa. Someone who isn’t really there. If I have been out, and I’m the first one home, I can turn the lights on in the living room if it is the first thing I do. It’s only freaky when it’s dark outside though.

At first I thought I was just being paranoid, been watching one too many horror movies, but I confronted my mom with it, told her how I felt. She said that she felt the exact same thing. She would not turn on the lights ’cause she was sure there would sit someone in the sofa. After a while she said that she wasn’t really scared anymore, the only “people” who could be in the sofa was her grandparents, and they were the nicest people in the world. It’s my mothers grandparents who built the house, and we bought it after they died.

I don’t really know what to think, it freaks me out. What do you guys think? Is it just an over-eager-imagination, if I could call it that, or is it really something?

I’m sorry if you find this unstructured, and hard to read. English is not my first language, so some of the sentences may be a bit weird.

 

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