Picking Up Ghosts Through Dreams
Boulder Creek, California
When I was a teenager, and off and on in my later teens/early twenties, I lived with my father, who lived in a small house in Boulder Creek, California. It was a small house, with only one bedroom; when I stayed there I slept in the bedroom, and my father slept in the living room.
I hated sleeping in the bedroom, for I’d have terrible dreams. I had them in the living room too, but they didn’t seem quite as strong. The dreams were always the same. I’d be in darkness, just wondering around, kind of lost. And I’d hear lots of chanting, like monks. There was a heavy, oppressive feeling that was very strong. Overall there was a religious feeling that was uncomfortable; I remember hearing, in the dream state, calls to Jesus to come and save and protect us.
Then I’d smell incense, overpowering, and wake up choking and coughing, the smell of incense still with me.
I mentioned it to my father, who told me a priest from the Catholic Church down the road had lived in the house for many years, and had died in the bedroom. There were some hints about suicide and illness, but I don’t know the details.