u/Gullible_Cow_1444

I graduated last May with a degree in game design and animation. I worked for a year and a half while I was in school at my program’s student-led development team, but once I graduated I was let go, since it only employs current students. After that, I had a social media/marketing job in a different state that didn’t work out, so between that and a horrible living situation, I had no choice but to move back home with my parents.

I have been searching and searching for work, but have had no luck. I’ve applied to hundreds of jobs, but haven’t even been given the chance at an interview, even at coffee shops (I was a barista for a year and a half). I love my parents and I’m so grateful that I have them to fall back on, but I’m miserable living with them and being back in my hometown. I’m 23, and I mourn my independence. I know that so many people, especially my age, are in the same boat or have it much worse than me, so I feel bad for complaining, but I need to figure something out. Does anyone have any suggestions on avenues I could look into to make some money while I build my portfolio and wait for greener pastures in my industry? Besides what I went to school for, I’m passionate about conservation, animals, and the environment, but there’s not much there without a related degree except for volunteer work. Any advice is helpful. Thank you<3

This is a true story. It happened to me when I was 12 or 13, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.

Growing up, my brother and I did acting. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity in the city I lived in, so my mom would drive us to the nearest big city often for auditions and jobs. When the days ran long or the auditions were scheduled late, spending the night somewhere in town was ideal, and typically, we would stay with a family friend who lived in a nearby suburb. This was a friend of my mom’s from college, and her kids were like my siblings. Even outside of acting, I spent a lot of time with them and at their house.

Their house is a large older build, probably from the 40s or 50s. It had been renovated, but you could still tell it wasn’t modern. Even from a young age, I always felt something was off with the house. One memory that particularly stands out was a game that the four of us liked to play. I won’t get too much into the details, but it was based off of the board game Candyland and we would all venture to the basement to “kill Lord Licorice”. I always felt genuine fear when we would go down there, and I don’t think I was the only one who did. There were times when I felt like someone was watching me, and others where I felt such a strong feeling of dread that I would run back upstairs.

With all that to say, here’s the main story. One day, my mom and I spent the night with our family friends after I had an audition. I always slept in my friend’s room with her, and my mom slept upstairs in the guest room. My friends’ bed was against the wall in the middle of the room, and I always slept on the side closest to the door. In the middle of the night, I woke up. I remember turning my head to look at the clock, which read 1:03am. Looking directly at the clock gave me a full view of the doorway, where I saw a black figure walk into the room. It was backlit from the nightlight in the hallway, but no light reflected from it. Thinking it was my mom’s friend, I tried to say her name, but I couldn’t speak. This was when I realized that besides my neck and head, I couldn’t move. The figure walked slowly across the room and stopped at the end of the bed. I felt an overwhelming sense of fear as I felt it look at me, even though I saw no eyes or facial features. I blinked, and it was gone. I felt I could move again, and after an unknown amount of time, I jumped out of bed and sprinted up the stairs to wake my mom. She tried to talk me down, but I was way too afraid and slept with her for the rest of the night. The next day I told everyone in the house what I saw, but I felt like no one believed me. For 2 or 3 years after, I only slept upstairs with my mom when we went over there.

Years later, I found out that my mom and her friend did believe me, they just didn’t want to scare me any more than I already was. My mom frequently had nightmares or couldn’t sleep when we stayed there, and her friend had strange experiences as well. They still live in that house, and I honestly don’t know how they do it. I know that what I experienced was sleep paralysis, so there is a strong chance I didn’t see anything real. But that is the first time I’ve ever experienced sleep paralysis, and only did again years later at a house I lived in for a time, but that experience was incredibly different and not really comparable. What also really scares me looking back is the time that I woke up at, 1:03. Looking at it like a date, it makes January 2003, which is my birth month and year. Even if that is just a coincidence, it gives me chills to think about.