*sigh* Okay, more more more strangeness. This I was gonna post to casschat in conjunction with the thread about the CD-player changing seemingly when we'd gone out, and everything else to do with this wider pattern that has emerged. Anyway, I was in rush so forgot to post it (I was reading Into the Fringe at the time):
I think I'm gonna end up ripping every hair out of my head in frustration at not having a real clue as to what the hell is going on around here!Message to casschat said:I'm sorry for these multiple posts, but I was a page into reading when I came across this passage (p. 209/p. 112 in the PDF):
Ding! Ding! Ding! The alarm was going off in my head again. God knows how I completely forgot about it, seeming as though it happens regularly but: the other week, my mother said to me, "You know what, often when I'm sat here [in the living room], I glance out of the window and see somebody just approaching the house. Then the tree outside obscures them as it would do, but THEY DON'T EVER COME OUT OF THE OTHER SIDE!" Well, of course, I gasped and excitedly said I'd experienced the same thing, which I had on many occasions.Karla Turner said:Sandy glanced out the front window and saw two men standing in her driveway one day, but when she went back for a second look only moments later, there was no one in the yard or on the street. And there were other cases where people kept "seeing" something move in their peripheral vision field, something that was often described as dark and the size of a rabbit or a large rat. No such animal, of course, was ever actually found. The incidents genuinely didn't seem merely to come from poor eyesight or vision problems, and, like the hearing of voices in the summer of 1989, the "invisible rabbits" were a transitory phenomenon.
You see, it's like this: there is the window, and about a third of the way in on the left is a small conifer. So momentarily, you see somebody walking past, then they disappear behind the conifer, and you'd then see them again for a few seconds. We were laughing at the seeming impossibility of it, also having actually got up to check and there'd be nobody there! We've come to call it our own little Bermuda Triangle outside. We'd both spot somebody other times, and wait in antipation, then laugh and say "Phew! She made it..."
Then there is the "dark" fleeting things on the corner of the eye. At first, it started with me seeing things shooting past on my peripheral vision in my bedroom; usually at ceiling height. I'm ashamed to say that I've killed quite a few moths in here over the years, too lazy to make the effort to catch them under a glass and set them free. So I just thought they were the ghosts of the moths! One time, I jumped up in a fright after seeing this "huge" orange and black thing come flapping near my face. But there was nothing there.
Then gradually, my mother and father started to see them again (I say again, because it also happened in our previous house - the most haunted of the lot) and so did my grandmother! But only here, not at her house.
As for what they are, obviously I have no idea. I suppose movement doesn't necessarily mean they are "alive", or even "out there" - we couldn't even begin to tell.