The creepy ghost of a suicide: The main thing is don't turn around

8 years ago, something happened that for everyone the most terrible thing in life is the loss of a loved one. My father died. To say that I was grieving is to say nothing. He loved me more than other children (that is, more than my brothers and sisters). I remember how I didn't believe it when my brother came in and told me about my father's death, and how I cried when his coffin was in the apartment on the 3rd day. When we went to the cemetery... Yes, that's when my grief was replaced by interest in strange and frightening events around...

Father was being loaded into the grave on cables. I couldn't look at it, and under the noise and crying of relatives, I disappeared among the grave monuments. Heartbroken, I walked. I don't know where. At one point I felt that my legs were carrying me somewhere. Soon I found myself at a dilapidated, moss-covered monument. The grave itself was decorated not with flowers, but with yellow dry grass - it was autumn. The monument bore the name "Mark von Gubenstein".

There was no photo, but according to the white oval silhouette on the monument, she was clearly there. But that's not what matters. Suddenly I felt in my gut the presence of someone nearby...

I felt something sinister piercing my gaze. I felt very cold and scared. Do you know that feeling when you can't move your arm or leg out of fear? Suddenly, an icy palm wrapped around my wrist. I didn't see her, but I certainly felt her. Terrified, I rushed away, screaming and weaving among the monuments like a hare. I didn't know where my father's funeral was taking place now, and I ran wherever my eyes looked. Seeing the edge, and beyond it the fence of the cemetery, I rushed there, stumbling and stumbling...

When I got out of the cemetery, I saw my mother, who, judging by her appearance, had been looking for me for a long time. Angry, she ran up to me, but when she saw me, crying and scared to death, she changed her face. Hugging me, she told me to be patient and that everything would be fine. She decided that the tears on my face and the scared look were because of my father's death. She would have known why I was so scared ...

but as it turned out, this something did not leave me, even when I was outside the cemetery.

When we were driving home, I constantly felt his presence next to me. And at home at the wake, I could almost feel his breath on the back of my neck. I was afraid to go to bed, but, nevertheless, I had to; no matter how I dragged my time, my mother drove my sister and me to sleep.

My sister Agatha and I slept in the same room. My bed was against the left wall, opposite the door, and my sister's bed, respectively, was on the right. I went to bed and, trying not to think about the terrible thoughts that crept into my head, fell asleep.

I dreamt that I was running through certain corridors. Judging by the forks, it was a maze. I'm running for a reason, but I'm running away from someone. It was running after me with a wild roar. Turning around, I saw a hefty man with long, matted, combed hair on his face. At one point, he drove me into a dead end. I watched him approach, baring his black teeth. Then a door formed to my right. It swung open, and my father was behind it. "Run quickly," with these words, he let me through and slammed the door behind me, which immediately disappeared into the wall.

My father turned to me, "How did you manage to catch this stuff?"

He didn't have time to say anything else, because I happily hugged him. When I calmed down a little, he sat me down on a chair that came from nowhere and told me the following: "What you picked up in the cemetery is the spirit of a suicide. And suicide is the most terrible sin that a person can commit. A suicide cannot be buried, and he must be buried behind a cemetery fence. However, his family did not consider it necessary to pay attention to this. He was given a funeral and buried in the cemetery, which could not be done in any way. Now he's trapped there, and he can't get rid of his 1000 years in hell. That's why he decided to finish you off... Through your body (soon dead) to get to hell, at the same time to take you with me... But don't be afraid. As soon as dawn begins, he will disappear. But before that, remember: when you wake up, he will call you. In any case, do not turn around at the voice, so that he does not tell you! Well, I have to go..."

I started crying, but he said, "Don't worry, we'll meet again, I promise. You, most importantly, do not forget me and visit my grave. Not often, of course, but once or twice a year it is possible so that it does not become as untidy as that poor fellow's. Well, see you later, son. I love you. And remember! You, most importantly, do not turn around."

The silhouette of the father became indistinct, as if through a cloudy glass. The next moment I found myself in the room. My gaze was fixed on the left wall, close to which my bed stood.

I lay there and didn't know whether to believe what I had dreamt... I didn't know until the moment when I didn't hear what my father warned me about.

I was lying with my face to the wall, and from behind I heard the voice of my sister Agatha, calling me by the name "Robert" in a whisper.

. Hearing the voice of my own sister, I was about to turn around, but something (likely my father's parting words) held me back. Also, despite the familiar voice, there was something alien about it. I don't know how to explain it. It seems to be the voice of the sister, and it seems to be not. "Robert!" The voice called me even more insistently. "What?"; "Turn around. I think I got something in my eye."

"So I won't see anything in the dark anyway. Turn on the light."

"Well... Turn around. Turn around"

I pressed myself even closer to the wall and did not answer... He called me for another two hours. Gradually, the voice became higher and soon sounded more like the husky bass of a peasant. I was very scared. "Turn around!" Suddenly he roared.

I don't know about you, but I was so paralyzed by terror that it went dark in my eyes. Soon the dawn appeared in the window. The voice was gone...

The next morning I asked my sister if she had called me at night. The answer was predictable. Agatha looked at me in bewilderment, and said that I had dreamt.

I do not know what it was. Of course, you can say that anything can happen, but how to explain that voice? In any case, I am eternally grateful to my father. Maybe he saved me. From what? I don't know myself... After all these years, I still go to his grave and take care of her.

Have you been saved through sleep by dead relatives? Share it in the comments! See also Don’t look at me!