As I entered Grandma’s front door there IT was “The Shrine”, a great big almost life like statue of Jesus. It was there that I first felt something was wrong. The way the shrines eye’s followed me gave me an eerily unnerving feeling… The shrine was an image of Jesus with thorns upon his head, blooding dripping down his face and he looked sad, very sad… I never walked past that creepy statue unless I had to, especially in the middle of the night on my way to the bathroom.

It was Easter midnight mass, and we hurried to get to the church. My grandma took care of the Priest until the day she passed away. My grandmother was a devout Catholic, and my God mother to boot… Our family actually donated land and money to build the church in Tamales, CA. I think it was to atone for all their sins and get them through purgatory quicker. I’ll never forget the darkness of the church and all the lit candles and finally the procession with the giant cross with Jesus on it... The memory of how we all piled up in line to kiss the feet of the dead Shrine on the cross, while the priest droned on and on in Latin, and in the dark with candles lit Latin sounds even scarier to a twelve year old child…

It was later that the real story takes place… We arrived home some time after mass and went promptly to bed. I had a night light in my room because I was afraid of the dark and had requested one. The room I was in had a picture on the wall of a woman with a wreath of thorns upon her head, and she was holding a child. The woman appeared to be the Virgin Mary holding the Christ child and she was standing upon a seven headed beast in the heavens. The picture was done in hues of greenish grays and looked very ominous and turbulent.

It was an unusually warm evening for that time of year and I was having trouble falling asleep when I began to feel light breezes blowing over me. I was becoming more and more trance like as the breezes became cooler and cooler. I looked up and into the corner of the bedroom. I noticed a shadow of a hand moving ever so slowly up the wall to the ceiling. Slowly the shadow moved toward me on the ceiling and as it approached I became colder and colder.

As I laid there I became aware that I was no longer lying on my bed, but rather floating above it with no clothes on, and I knew I was not alone in that room… The shadowy hand was now directly over me as it began it’s ascent toward my helpless body. I noticed a feeling of coldness that I had never known before and it was chillingly frightening…

I tried to scream for my grandmother to no avail. I had no voice so I tried to hit the wall but before my flailing hand made contact I lost all strength and my hand slid with out purpose down the wall…I didn’t know what to do and was becoming terrified more and more by the moment. I am not a particularly religious person but I want you to know I was desperate and remembered something my mother had told me many times… Mom said to pray if I was ever in doubt and ask for help in the name of Jesus. I began to pray for help and with-in seconds it was gone. I am not saying that prayer is the answer for everyone but it sure worked for me that night... I never stayed at my grandmother’s home again with out my parents and definitely not in that room…I was too afraid that “IT” would happen again…

My grandmother’s oldest sister Josephine is 103 yrs old, and has promised me she will pay me a visit upon her death to show me that this is not all there is and that there is indeed another side…. I’ll let you know if that ever happens. I hope it does because then a lot of my questions will be answered, you know, the age old question we all have… “Is this all there is…”


Just a footnote: This also happened to my younger sister Gayla, and an older married cousin Donna who both had very similar experiences while sleeping in the same house, in the exact same room….