From Ana:

I lived with my grandparents from the time I was three years old until I was seven.

I had alot of baby dolls and stuffed animals and I would always line them up across the top of my bed on the pillows. I had a kingsize bed.

It was the summer before I started 1st grade that I had decided to sleep on the floor so that all of my dolls and stuffed animals would fit comfortably on the bed.

I was awakened in the middle of the night IN my bed on the oppisite side of the bed that I usually slept on.

Something was picking me up and dropping me down on my bed over and over and over again. I was very scared and I kept telling myself that it was the devil and his demons.

I felt paralyzed and I couldn't break free.

Finally I found enough energy to scream, "MEMAW!"

When my grandmother called to me from her room down the hall, the spirit or whatever it was dropped me for the final time. So I jumped over all of my dolls and stuffed animals, jumped off the bed and ran to my grandmother's room.

After I had told my grandparents what had happened, I was too scared to go to sleep so I just got in bed with them and stared at their door out into the hallway.

Out of the blue a man appeared in the doorway in what seemed to be ragged army clothes. He stared at me for a few moments until I mustered up enough courage to scream.

I let out an ear-piercing scream and, as I did so, the battered looking man disappeared into colorful dots right before my eyes.

I slept in my grandparents bed for months and I wouldn't even play in the back yard by myself.

My mother had grown up in that house and years after my experience my grandmother told me that one night about 3:00 in the morning my mother came knocking at the front door. She was only 14 or 15 years old and she was supposed to be in bed.

My grandmother told me that my mom was hysterical and she told my grandmother that a spirit picked her up out of her bed and dumped her at the bayou at the end of the road. My mother kept screaming that she left her soul down there.

Since the, my mother has been the black sheep of the family out of eight kids.

She is mean, evil, vengeful and she has never been a happy or productive person, hence the reason I was living with my grandparents.

I know that my experience was not a dream or a figment of my imagination. To this day I can still feel being dropped over and over onto my bed.