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The Little Girl
(NOTE: The following occurred in Salt Lake City, Utah in early August, 1999)
While visiting my Grandma and Grandpa, my family had decided to stay the night. This was no problem, because I was actually quite comfortable in their house. Knowing where everything was, I felt I would be able to sleep by myself, in one of the two bedrooms in the basement. That night was like any other night we had stayed at their house. I got ready for bed, got into the room I was sleeping in, and began to read. That's when my mom told me I had to sleep in the same bed with my younger brother and sister. I agreed, and we went to bed.
Around 3:00 a.m., I awoke to a bright light coming from the door of the room I was in. I sat up, still sleepy, but otherwise fully awake. Suddenly, I heard some crying, coming from the rocking chair across the room. Thinking it was my sister, I called out to her. She didn't answer, but the crying continued. Knowing there were no other small girls in the house, I started to get worried. Shielding my eyes, I looked to the rocking chair. It was rocking back and forth, but no one was in it. The quiet crying continued. I called out to the chair, when suddenly the crying stopped. In the same instant, a little girl with blonde hair appeared by my bedside. I didn't recognize her, but she did look a little familiar, so I asked her what was wrong. She explained that "He took my dollie". That was all she said, through her sobbing.
I noticed she stood in the light, but was a little hard to see. When I reached out to touch her, she disappeared, as did the light, and the door suddenly slammed shut. Scared out of my wits, I was afraid to move. I reached down slowly, and pulled up the covers, until they were over my head. I felt numb, or at least the hand I had reached out with to touch the girl was numb. I couldn't explain it.
In the morning, my aunt and cousins came over. One of my cousins, 3 years younger than I was, was the one person I felt comfortable in telling. After telling her, she suggested it was an ancestor. She showed me a family portrait which had the same little girl in it. I didn't know who she was, or how she was related to me, but I knew she had come to see me that night, even though she had died at least 70 years earlier to my birth.
-Stephanie.
