I grew up on an Indian Reservation in the Dakotas. My father became rather traditional as he got older, and being aware of the spirits that are constantly around us is a huge part of Sioux spirituality. The Cheyenne believe that once something terrible happens in a place, it never stops happening. The reservation is/was home to some of the worst atrocities on record, and so the idea of people hanging around after their deaths was not foreign to us. I was raised to believe that it was perfectly normal, if not desired, to be able to see things that non-Natives couldn't. I've seen some terribly scary things in my life, but I'll only share a couple of them.
I grew up in a town that had been home to the most traditional of the traditional. A great war leader was said to have been buried along the banks of the creek that ran through the town, and the traditional Natives flocked there to practice their religion (relatively) safely after a horrible massacre happened in the 1890s. Drug and alcohol abuse had slowly taken over, however, and the one spiritual refuge of the reservation had become a hotspot for rape, murder, suicide, and other untimely endings.
When I was in the 6th grade, my father worked at the community school. Since it was a small town, the school taught grades K-8. He came home troubled one day because the kindergarten class claimed to have all seen a girl who appeared to be dead (throat slit, blackened eyes) staring in at them from the hallway. They had simultaneously started screaming and gesturing toward the door (Natives don't point). Their non-Native teacher was convinced that the kids were all in on some kind of prank, but my dad thought that the appearance of the girl was a sign of things to come.
And it was. It was the beginning of what my family refers to in hushed tones as the 'creepy year.' For no apparent reason, kids started committing suicide down by the creek that ran through the town. One after the other, kids would go down to the same spot and end their lives. A reservation-wide emergency was called and we had to sit in countless assemblies regarding suicide prevention. Still, the suicides continued, and by the end of the month, 4 or 5 kids had died down there.
Soon after the first wave of suicides, a large black car with tinted windows began popping up around town. People mentioned it casually at first, as it was strange to see a new car in a place where everyone knew each other's rides. Then the car began doing weird things. One of my cousins was driving home from a friend's house late one night when the car appeared right behind her. Its brights were on and it was tailgating her so closely that she found herself going 90 mph just to keep from getting hit. Then, as she drove past the school, the car disappeared in thin air. Just gone.
The car began appearing more and more. It attempted to run several more people off the road, and everyone was really, really scared. Whatever was in the car became stronger. It would pull up to the houses where the kids who committed suicide had lived and just sit in the darkness with the engine idling. People who drove by it would see the outlines of 5 people sitting in the car. Two in the front, three in the back.
My dad worked with other spiritual leaders across the reservation to find a way to make the car go away, and to give whoever was driving it peace. As my family was pretty open about supernatural phenomena, and as we'd all seen stuff that couldn't be explained, my dad let us know what was going on. As the numbers of ghosts appearing in the community school increased, and as the sightings of the black car rose, my dad grew very upset and worried. We felt like we were under siege...and kids kept committing suicide down by the creek.
One night, when my dad was out somewhere, we heard a car approach the house. I had been reading in my bedroom, but I heard my mother tell my sisters to run to the back. My two younger sisters hurried into the room looking terrified, and we heard my baby brother's babbling stop completely. My mom would later tell me that she had moved to the big window that looked out to the front yard and peered out. It was the black car. In our driveway. Idling.
My mom said her heart stopped when she recognized the hairstyle of one of the girls who had committed suicide. She could barely make her out through the tinted glass, but she knew who she was. My mom ran to the phone to call my dad, and as soon as she got him on the line, the car reversed with a screech and left our driveway.
The car continued being seen, as well as other truly terrifying things, until the suicides halted and a town-wide ceremony was performed. That remains one of the most frightening periods of my life.
(scary)
When I left the reservation for college, I moved to a small town across the state. The town was one of the oldest in Dakota Territory, and I was happy to be living in a place that had roots that went back as far as they did. I loved history, and this felt like a place I could explore and be a part of. I was very wrong.
Not long after I moved into the dorms, strange things started happening. I'd hear grunts and furniture moving in the room next to mine, but when I'd ask my RA about the person who lived there, she'd look at me like I was crazy. No one lived in that room. No one had lived in that room for years — it was intentionally kept empty. These noises happened so often I decided to change dorms. Well, the noises combined with my perpetually-nude roommate and her boyfriend.
The next dorm I lived in was the oldest on campus. Built after a massive flood destroyed most of the town, the dorm was large and always dark — even at noon on the brightest day. Something felt off about the building from the very beginning, but I decided that as finals were approaching, I really didn't need to deal with naked roommate and her creeptastic boyfriend on top of studying.
I was given my own room, and at first I was very excited to have the space all to myself. The excitement was very short-lived, however, as I began to notice things move out of the corner of my eye. Little balls of light shifted and bounced over things. Occasionally, I'd dream that something big and black was standing over me, but I was determined to ignore the supernatural and creepy now that I was off the rez. Still, I had my adviser send another Native in to smudge my room. To be honest, smudging only seemed to make things worse (and this was the only building I found that to be true in). I began seeing more and more shadows and creepy balls of light. I knew that if I looked directly at them, the light-balls would turn into fully-formed ghosts. I avoided looking at them for as long as I could, and I did my best to ignore the deep, deep dread I felt every time I was in my room.
I'd only been in my new dorm for a week and a half when I decided that I couldn't take the darkness anymore. I'd been ignoring strange things for the past few days (including my iPod randomly playing Don't Come Around Here by Tom Petty whenever I walked into the room), and I thought that more light might make me feel less afraid. I went to the local Walmart and bought a large strand of Christmas lights and some scented candles. When I got home, I took the lights out of their box and looped them in a circle on top of the plastic bag they'd been in.
I sat on my bed to do homework, and while I was reading, I noticed a huge ball of light move from the window (where the sage was) and bounce along the desk I had placed the lights & bag on. A huge gust of wind rattled the window and scared me half to death. It had been a quiet, windless night just a minute before. I looked around to see if anything had been knocked over, and I saw the Christmas lights curling slowly around the plastic bag. I was transfixed. There was nothing pulling either end of the light strand. No object placed on or near them that would drag them around by force of gravity. There was nothing natural about the way it caused an airbubble in the bag to form and rise as it twisted faster. The bubble resembled a head, and the lights looked like it was strangling its throat. The dread I'd been denying washed over me. I knew it was a threat.
I ran out of the dorm so fast that I only managed to bring my laptop and a change of clothes. I found out later that a girl had overdosed in the room next to mine in the first dorm I was in, and that Natives never stayed long in the last. Scary things would happen to them and each and every one of them would bolt. I also found out that my college town had a long and horrible history of Natives being murdered/massacred, with the most recent murder taking place in the 80s. I decided to transfer out of that hellhole, and thank goodness I did. I know of few Natives who stayed in that town for long. Creepy things followed them everywhere, until they too were forced to run for the hills.
I have many more stories, but I'll leave it at that for now. You guys should hear about the things I saw once I moved to the East Coast!
