Hearing the Voice
I attended a fund-raising event today. It took place outside. It was cold … so very cold. Did I mention it was COLD? Despite the cold, we bundled up in blankets and curled ourselves around hot cups of coffee.
During the course of the day, we had to pass the time some way, so we had conversation. Imagine that! In this day and age, people who do not normally hang out together might play with their electronic devices – and some of us started off doing just that – but we ended up talking.
We told funny stories and we talked about books and fund-raising ideas. However, it got really interesting when we got on the subject of real life scary stories. It IS October, after all. I also mentioned my Saturday Scary Story blog. After today, I have some new material from which to draw.
One man admitted something that had happened to him several times. It always happens at night. He said he has heard a voice. It’s in the room with him and it speaks to him, but mostly it calls his name.
His relating that personal bit of weirdness, brought back a memory for me. I have also heard a voice. In fact, my sister once said, “Leigh, you have that blog now. You should tell about that creepy voice you’ve heard.”
I think my friend at the event relating his experience gave me the courage to tell mine.
It has only happened to me about four times my entire life.
I was about five or six years old when I first heard “the voice.”
The first time, the voice woke me. It was abrupt and it said my name distinctly and harshly – as if commanding me to do something. The voice was male and gravelly … it woke me in the predawn hours – between first light and sunrise.
The voice came from behind my headboard.
I awoke and looked around me in the early dimness. I got up on my knees and looked behind my headboard. I distinctly remember looking for the source of the voice. The “tooth fairy” had come that night, I remember it well because I disturbed some coins beneath my pillow as I moved it around. Some of the coins fell between my mattress and headboard and clattered to the wood floor beneath. I was too scared of what might be under the bed that I refused to collect the coins until full daylight.
The second time I heard the voice, I was in my early 20’s and my first two children were very small. The voice was the same. It growled out my name, but also added. “Wake up!”
I sat up, heart pounding, it was the same time of morning – somewhere between first light and dawn. Again, it came from behind my headboard. I turned and looked. I looked outside …my husband was asleep beside me.
It happened once or twice more after that. I have not heard “the voice” in more than a decade. I don’t miss it. Still, I have always wondered if it was real … or just something that followed me out of the dream world.