The reality behind appearances when normal becomes paranormal - My Diary

Chapter I

                                                           The Begining

Just last night, I managed to unpack my things in the new house, although there's still a lot of work to be done with organizing and sorting out what I want to keep and what I don't. I was cleaning the larger room when I noticed an old photo album under a pile of books. I opened it, and suddenly a few pictures from my childhood came to mind.

I saw one of my school photos, where a few classmates and I were posing during the school photography session. This reminded me of the years 1996-97 when I still attended that school. One of my friends, Victoria, was very into paranormal things, which made me a bit uncomfortable. But if she wanted to talk about it, I didn't say no, I just wasn't interested. I thought, let her talk, maybe I'll learn something from her. But the strange thing was when it later turned out, according to some classmates, that a cleaning lady working there had hanged herself. (Allegedly, I say this because I saw no evidence of it.) But if it did happen, our teachers didn't tell us about it. At that time, I wasn't really interested in horror topics. Some of my classmates entertained themselves during breaks by reading tarot cards, playing with Ouija boards, and who knows what else. I guess they were doing basic séance stuff. It's quite an achievement that they didn't get caught.There were rumors that sometimes dark spots were seen in the hallways. Well, yes, the child's mind and belief are an interesting mix. Over time, I gradually participated in the students' activities. But don't get me wrong, I didn't summon spirits, nor do I want to. It's just that when I was on the bus to school, I saw a hanged man on one of the trees, and I didn't know what to make of it. I thought it was better not to deal with it, the authorities would handle it. My school years went smoothly (if we don't count the paranormal events and rumors), but things weren't ordinary at home either. One day, unfortunately, during lunch, I saw someone jump from the opposite apartment building. I heard the impact and saw the blood spread on the asphalt. And all this as a child. Wherever I go, death is always around me in some form. And unfortunately, someone in my family died every year, at least for six years. Although everyone says that a person is born and dies once, how it happens depends partly on us, or not.I say this because, unfortunately, I had the misfortune to experience the touch of death at least twice, but I survived. But I don't like to talk about it.In one of the pictures, I saw my dog, who was like a sibling to me. We grew up together; he was small when he came to us, and we essentially grew up together. But interestingly, he was the only one who could confirm my doubts that something was wrong in my old childhood room. At first, the dog was fine, minding his own business, but then something happened, and he really didn't like me being in the room. Imagine a wild dog ready to attack, growling and everything. He really wanted me to leave. But even after I left, he stood in the same position and focused on one spot, as if there was an intruder in the house or something, but I saw nothing. After that, I was afraid to go in, especially after dark when it was time to sleep. I could hardly fall asleep, if at all.I'm not thinking of the clichéd Hollywood stuff, like a demon staring from the corner of my room or something floating above my bed. But I distinctly remember that when my great-grandmother unfortunately passed away, shortly after, a few hours later, while I was sleeping, someone patted my shoulder, and a familiar presence appeared. When the news of her death was confirmed, I thought that feeling was like it was her. That's how she said goodbye to me, I'm sure of it. It was both creepy and comforting at the same time. In the sense that it confirmed there is indeed life after death