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61 That’s when things turned negative. Her whole face changed, and it went from looking like a smiling little girl to getting twisted, like a monster. She charged straight at me, silently and quickly, enraged. My eyes bugged out like, “AHHH!” As she got near, several feet away, I ducked under the covers to hide. I didn’t know what else to do! I stayed under there for a little bit, listening, waiting. Nothing seemed to be happening so I finally peeked out to see if she was still there. She was gone. Whew! Some may say this was a dream, but I know for a fact I was wide awake. This was not a dream. Nor was I one of those kids prone to fanciful visions and hallucinations. I didn’t have any imaginary friends — because I didn’t need any, I had lots of real friends. And I just didn’t have the mindset for that whole deal. And I was definitely not a kid who got carried away in fantasy make believe. I was very practical minded. (way more than most normal kids in fact.) So, that’s why I know that I didn’t just invent this fanciful hallucination of some one-time imaginary ghost girl friend. It makes no sense, based on who I was as a kid. Right around this time period I was visited by the “Burger King” — another all white smiling ghost figure who floated into my room unexpectedly in the middle of the night as I laid there in the dark, wide awake. (my mom put me to bed way too early at that age, so I would periodically find myself wide awake in the middle of the night, just looking around the room like, doo dee doo dee doo...bored.) Burger King had the robe and the crown and the beard, smiling all pleasant...but when I looked at his feet from where I laid in my bed, I saw that he wasn’t walking, he was floating, which was interesting to me. Hmm, I thought. And I don’t remember what happened after that. There’s no conclusion to this incident. One minute he was that. floating into my room, and the next...nothing. Blank. But I do remember trying to tell my mom about it in the morning at breakfast, “Mommy, Burger King was in my room last night!” But she paid me no mind. ;) Just the crazy ramblings of a goofy little kid is what she thought, I’m sure. She looked at me like, Yeah, whatever, and continued with prepping and arranging breakfast. Blank. But I do “Split mind” crying. Strange incident in kindergarten, five years old when we lived in Massachusetts. I would walk home from the Part II - My Own Experiences —_—_—_—_—— ee *e fanciful visions and _ hallucinations. There’s no conclusion to this incident.