My name is Agnes, and my life will never be the same. It began when I was seven years old. I was in my room, playing with dolls, when my mirror fell from the wall. It was strange because there was no shaking, and the nails that connected it to my drawers were strong. There was no explanation for the crash. As I ran downstairs to tell my mom, I heard a bloodcurdling scream. I rushed to mother, who seemed bewildered by what I had to say. She told me that she hadn't heard a thing. I was so distressed that I switched rooms with my sister. Years passed without incident, but when I was 12, the fright returned. I was with a group of friends when a little girl approached me on the street. She touched my arm and said that she knew me. I told her she was confusing me with someone else; I had never seen her before in my life. She tightened her grip on my arm and said, "Don't go home!" I was totally freaked out and decided that home was the only place where I wanted to be. I quickly said goodbye to my friends and ran towards the house. On the way, an ambulance whooshed past. By the time I got home, the block was overflowing with concerned neighbors. My mother was on her knees, crying in the yard, and my new baby sister was being shoved into the ambulance. My mother later explained that when she went upstairs to check on her (in my old bedroom), her face was blue, and she wasn't breathing. Luckily, the paramedics were able to bring her back to life. This experience has filled me with millions of unanswerable questions. I wish I could convince my family to move, but they seem to think we have the supernatural under control.

Agnes, IL