When I was between the ages of 11 and 14, I started to have a reoccurring nightmare. When I say reoccurring, I mean every night for months at a time. I grew up in a small house in Massapequa Park, NY. I had 7 siblings (2 sisters and 5 brothers). My parent’s bedroom was on the ground floor. The other bedrooms were on the 2nd floor. The house was built with only two bedrooms on the 2nd floor but my dad was eventually forced to purchase an add-on, raising the total to four. My sisters were each given their own bedroom. This meant the 5 boys had to share two rooms. For a while, my oldest brother shared a room with my brother who was closest in age to me. When he left for college, it was just me and my brother sharing the room. My oldest sister had left for college a year earlier so there were now four rooms to be shared by 5 children. My younger sister always had her own room, so that didn’t change. My two youngest brothers were given the room that used to belong to my oldest sister. This left myself and my closest brother to share a room, with my 2nd oldest brother getting his own room.
Not sure if this is relevant, but, my room and my 2nd oldest brother’s room were not originally part of the house. They were added on, as previously mentioned.
It was when both of my oldest siblings had gone off to college that the darkness settled in. My 2nd oldest brother started to exhibit irrational and disturbing behavior. He would wake up in the middle of the night and start pounding on the walls. I could hear him threatening to kill the entity he claimed to see near his closet. I spoke to him about this entity and he said it would threaten him so he threatened it back. I didn’t know what to believe but since I had experienced a lot of paranormal activity in that house (as young as I can remember, I did not dismiss his claims). Unfortunately, my parents did, eventually having him scooped up by white coats, and brought to a psychiatric hospital, whereupon, he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. I was around the age of 15 when this happened. I am now 49. My brother is 52 and has spent the majority of his life in a psychiatric hospital, being force-fed debilitating drug concoctions. My closest brother, who I shared the room with also used to tell me about entities that he saw and was sure would eventually get him. He died from an accidental drug overdose about 15 years ago.
As for myself, I am now 49, and live in Manhattan with my wife and two teenage sons. I struggled with drug addiction for many years, twice spending time in rehab before finally shaking my demons loose. In regards to this entity seen by both my brothers, here is my experience. Somewhere around the age of 11, I started to have a reoccurring nightmare. I would fall asleep after playing Sega or watching something on TV and suddenly wake up again in my bed. The first few times this happened, I was unaware it was a dream. I could get up and see my brother sleeping. I could even hear my parents talking downstairs. But there was also something else. There was a heavy presence in the corner of the room, near my closet. I felt like it was shaped like a person but much bigger and without any discernable features. The lights were always off in this dream, but I was aware of its presence because it was somehow darker than the surrounding darkness. The presence of this thing created within me an overwhelming sense of dread. It never moved. It just stood there. Because it has no facial features I couldn’t save for sure whether it was looking at me but I felt it. As stated before, this nightmare reoccurred every night for the next 6 or so months. After the first few occurrences, I became familiar with the feeling and was as quicker to recognize that I was dreaming when I woke up and felt the presence. This only served to terrify me more.
After a couple of months of this, I got brave enough to get out of the bed and scream at it though I never got very close to it. A couple of times I grabbed a lamp and swine in that direction. There was even a time in which I was woken up by my parents, in my kitchen, holding a lamp (the prong on the cord with pieces of Sheetrock on it cause I ripped it out of the wall on an angle). Eventually, I could no longer deal with this reoccurring dream and turned to drinking beer. I would drink 8-10 beers, starting at the age of 12 so I could pass out and not dream. It worked but I wouldn’t suggest it as best practice for any kid in high school. I never had that dream again, but it wasn’t til 6 months ago that I finally put down the alcohol for good. I know it had something to do with that house. My parents still live there, as do my two youngest brothers. I visit there from time to time and though it’s not the most comfortable place to spend a lot of time in I can tell you that the darkness is gone. The energy in the house is neutral. I don’t think it could ever be joyful due to the scars on the walls from years of darkness.