True Ghost Stories: Jim Harold's Campfire 1 by Harold Jim

Author:Harold, Jim [Harold, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Jim Harold Media LLC
Published: 2014-11-25T05:00:00+00:00

-Beth, North Carolina

37. A Vision of Uncle Charlie

When I was growing up, I didn't have my grandparents, but we had a close family friend that I kind of adopted as my grandparent. He was older and would spend time with our family, and we became close. Probably a little closer than I thought. (As I tell the story you'll see why.) I always called him Uncle Charlie. One night, when I was around 11, I went to bed, and had a very odd dream, one that was so striking that I woke up the next morning and told my mother about it.

It was strange, and very vivid. I still remember it today, and I'm in my 40s. The dream was in a sepia tone, which (for people who don't know what that is) is sort of brown and white. Almost like an old movie.

The dream was set in what appeared to be a dungeon of some type with stone walls and a stone slab, and a person was lying on the slab. There were four or five people shorter in height than what I would consider normal-sized, all wearing white. They surrounded the stone slab and then started to actually pound the chest of the person who was on the stone slab. I got a look at the person on the stone slab and it was Uncle Charlie. I probably remember five or eight minutes of the dream very vividly, but that was the core. The crux of the dream was the constant pounding on this person's chest in the dream, and these smaller people scurrying around and doing this action over and over and over again. Finally, a white sheet that was on my Uncle Charlie was pulled completely over him.

There were no religious icons during the dream. It kind of played out in my mind as an old-fashioned movie, so that was weird. There were torches on the wall almost like an old Frankenstein-type movie. It was strange.

The next morning, my mother and I were sitting around the table having breakfast, and I told her the story. She looked me in the eye and told me that before I had gotten up, she had received a phone call that my Uncle Charlie had died that evening, while I was asleep. He had had a heart attack, and they tried to revive him using all sorts of measures that have something to do with resuscitating and pounding—all the things I had seen. What I saw was pretty convoluted compared to what actually happened. I'm guessing that Uncle Charlie was actually thinking of me, maybe, during this process, and projected it into my head, into my dream, so I kind of saw what was happening. What I saw was almost in a different form of reality, but it was what was happening. I saw it almost like an old-fashioned movie, and it still haunts me to this day. Not in a bad way, but it was so vivid. It was

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