� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
�
What makes me afraid is there is a genetic chemical imbalance that runs in my Grandma H.'s side. She has it, in fact. She has a tendency to go into deep depressions where she'll begin to hear voices that aren't real. I never have been diagnosed with or manifested symptoms of it, but there's always the scary possibility.
I'd prefer the possibility I've just gotten more sensitive to the veil I mentioned above. That way I wouldn't be crazy. Just...odder than I already am. *sigh* Crikey, I wish I knew what to do, and what the truth really is. It's only happened two or three times. Maybe four, and mostly since after my great-grandmother died. The first time was over five years ago, I was in bed half-asleep, drifting close to the line when I heard a kindly female voice call my name. "Shiloh."
I startled fully awake, of course, looking bout the room. Nobody was there, and I couldn't sense anyone either. It never happened again after that. The rest have been recently. The night after I posted An Unseen Visitor I heard female laughter. I was in bed--tired yes, but still awake--only a few minutos when I heard it. I rolled from my side to see if Jon was visiting with Mom and had told a joke. No one was down here except me, and it was dark with all the lights out. But I distinctly heard a feminine laugh. As if it were laughing at something funny. It was a bit, um, freaky.
Last night was the latest. Once again in bed, hovering near the line between sleep and wakefulness.
"Are you ready?" a female voice sounded near my ear.
Gasping, my eyes popped open as I jumped. Ready for what? came my automatic mental answer. Ready for ghouls or spirits to come visit me? Ready to die? Ready for insanity--well complete insanity? Ready for what?
I don't know what this means. I'm afraid to tell anyone outside this journal. They'll scoff I'm sure. But I had to tell it to someone. And coupled with the experiences I wrote about in An Unseen Visitor the whole thing makes for a pretty bizarre and unsettling situation. I just pray I ain't going insane. 'Course, I've been tired, but always have I been on the awake side. It's entirely possible I imagined someone calling my name as I was so tired. But I couldn't have imagined the laugh or last night's question. *sigh* Insane or sensitive, which am I?
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He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.
~William Shakespeare~
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