Upon sensing their presence, Sweet Mom stands in the nursery and admonishes the visitors to do her babies no harm. It is said that babies bring links to that forgotten place where we all come from. Our experience living with little people has always brought us into contact with this unseen and perhaps forgotten world.
The following series of encounters occurred after the arrival of our second litter. Although essentially a shared experience, I shall attempt to describe, chronologically, the events from my perspective.
As I entered the hallway from the warehouse, a dark figure darted from the hall into the final assembly room. Startled, but sensing no danger, I dismissed it as a trick of the eye. During my late night sessions, this became a common occurrence. Pacing from room to room, as was my custom, I encountered these shadow people always in the same way. As I entered a room, they exited silently, as if not wanting to be caught. I sensed no danger from these inter-dimensional visitors, but visually they appeared as physical intruders. As in Not Shadow People, I carried a pistol on my hip to quickly dispatch from the earth plane any corporeal visitors.
During this same period, I saw identical figures at home. I saw them by the door to the girls’ room and also slipping into the kitchen from the dining area. Knowing how Sweet Mom responds to otherworldly beings in the house near her children, I said nothing. One day, Sweet Mom mentioned that while sitting at her desk she had been seeing shadowy figures going down the hall towards the kid’s room. She also saw them slipping into the kitchen. I acknowledged the same experience. This instantly ended our encounters with these shadow people.
Later, I found a story on the internet where a son had encountered strange, non-physical critters in his dad’s workshop. When he told his dad of this, he responded that they had been there for awhile. Late night radio then revealed a seeming epidemic of shadow people sightings. Hence, you can now Google “Shadow People” and find more than you care to know.
The shadow people encounters now being history, we now met the white shadow people. On occasion while stirring from sleep, I would glance toward the dressing area of our bedroom. Staring back at me was a white figure. I call it white, but in the dark it was just a light (not illuminated) figure that, after a moment of contact, just disappeared. Not wanting Sweet Mom to go on and on about entities watching us sleep, I said nothing. As is now the routine, one day Sweet Mom asked if I had seen the light figure by the bathroom. I acknowledged the sightings, and that was the end of the white shadow people.
I find strange, the casual acceptance of these encounters. I once listened to a woman describe astonishment at her own reaction to such an encounter. A figure appeared at the foot of her bed and said, “Don’t be afraid.”
“Afraid?” she responded. “I don’t even know what you are.” Then she went to sleep.