I was in my 20's, newly moved into a house my parents had just bought in the West Indies...which I alone
in my family had stayed in before, having known previous renters.
One night I woke up in pain; my hand was being bitten by an old white-haired gent sitting in a chair next to the bed. I tried to scream out, but it seemed my voice was failing me. Finally, my brother heard, summoned my parents...who pretty much thought I was nuts.
I looked at my hand, certain to see bite marks...there were none visible, yet, I could still feel them.
In the morning, I related this incident to Miss Daphne, the house-keeper, whom I had known for many years. Daphne had come with the house, having been the owner's care-taker.
When she asked me to describe the man who bit me, I told her that he had white hair, and looked much like an older version of my father. Then she laughed:
"Oh, Lawd Miss M., that Mista Marsh. Him probably a bit vexed Mista Charlie buy his house from Mista Tony. Pay 'im no mind...he jus' playin' wid you. Him mean no harm."
That was freaky. I can still feel the bite all these years later, even though Mr. Marsh never bothered me again.
Interestingly enough, the area my parents live in is called Duppy Woods
by locals. Duppies
are ghosts or spirits in Jamaica.
Now, had I not had previous experiences
with freaky 'incidents' I may have been more alarmed, but, this was BY FAR
one of the least troubling 'unexplainable'
experiences in my life.
All the other incidents
have been in NYC, where I've lived most of my life.
BTW...this is a very