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Disembodied Voices and a UFO Encounter
Recalling the first two of several experiences I’ve had with the paranormal
I’ve always had a great love for horror, cryptozoology, and the paranormal. As an elementary age child some of my favorite shows were things like Tales From the Crypt and Goosebumps. I was the proud owner of the Tales From the Crypt comics and all of the Goosebumps books.
Dracula, Jaws, and other scary/gory movies were also favorites. I had an interest in dead things which I think helped when I had to take biology classes later on in my school life and had to dissect frogs and such. Other kids would think it was gross so I was always the one in my group that had to do the dirty work.
Once, when I was no older than six, a chipmunk had somehow managed to get stuck in our basement. We think it was hurt by a mousetrap then crawled underneath a pile of rags near the washing machine to die. My parents didn’t find it until over a week later and that was only because they were searching for the source of the foul odor that had permeated the basement.
The dead chipmunk was apparently stuck to the cement floor and the stench was absolutely rancid. So much so that my father, who ended being the one to have to clean it up, gagged and retched as he spent over an hour scraping it up and dousing the area in various extra strength cleaners.
Despite how adversely it affected my dad, I, being the lover of creepy and gross things, tried to go watch him clean it up and my mother had to hold me back as I begged her to let me see the dead chipmunk.
I don’t know if my love for the gross, strange, creepy, and paranormal had effects on the way I saw the world, but I had a few experiences as a child that I still can’t get over. I’ve become more of a skeptic as I’ve gotten older, looking at my experiences and the experiences of others with a more critical eye, but there are a few things that have happened in my life that even my skeptical brain has trouble explaining.
Disembodied Voices
I was born and raised in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. When I was about seven years old, my father and I were alone in the house one winter evening as my mother was out with my aunt…
