This is a true story by Adeola, Copyright 2008.I had a aunt who passed away. She lived in the outer skirts of England in Sheffield. I visited England with my mother and another aunt while I was a young woman. Just for this story sake, not wishing to use my aunt’s real name, I will address her as Anita.
Anita had an old Victorian styled house with seating windows on the ground floor. We visited for the week. A room was provided for use in the attic. First thing I noticed was the backyard from the kitchen was colder than any part of the house other than the attic which was the worst. I felt a sense of foreboding (let’s just call it FEAR) of being anywhere near the backyard - just looking out would make me want to leave the kitchen. I did not see anything move except it was very cold and had an aura of darkness and danger. I asked my aunt about this and she mentioned someone had died in the backyard, that it wouldn’t harm me and not to worry. Sleeping in the attic, I would hear sounds, but I would attributed that to other people in the house.
Fast forward. My aunt Anita came to stay with us in Northeast America. She was suffering from a mysterious lung ailment where doctors would x-ray and find what appeared to be glass crystals in her lungs. When my mother went to England to get her, my mother being a nurse had to revive her using CPR twice because she was about to expire.
It was with my mother’s determination and prayer that allowed my Aunt to make it through the flight here. My mother took sister Anita to several doctors for a diagnosis. No one could come up with a plausible reason how glass crystals ended up in her lungs. My aunt would cough up and you could actually see the slivers of glass.
My mother and uncle (who was a minister) would watch over my aunt. About six months passed by when we woke up one night to screams that did not soundd like they came from human vocal cords. It was long, continuous and the window coming from my aunt’s room sounded like it was going to break. We heard nothing outside our window of our bedrooms. Even my mother would not get out of bed to investigate. We just huddled together, she and I got on our knees and prayed throughout the night.
In the morning after 6 am, my mother and I went into aunt Anita’s room to see that she was okay. Aunt Anita said she was okay but a demon came to her during the night to kill her. She said that she was praying that none of us would come in her room during the night.
Later on I spoke to my mother and told her of my feelings about that house in England. I said that whatever was there followed her here with us. My mother said that so much had happened from the moment she received the phone call from aunt Anita to come get her. My mother said it was a spiritual, physical, and medical fight to get her here without her expiring. There is definitely something going on.
The end of the story, my aunt died peacefully. Before she died, she gave her heart to the Lord, and gave up personal things to make peace with God. I have no doubt that she is at peace now. That whatever followed her is gone. Our house has it’s own tale but for the most part, whatever specters there may have been are very well behaved.