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1:51 p.m. - December 27, 2002 Truthfully, I'd rather be in bed curled up with a good mystery, no worries, no people to see. So what's wrong with me? I have no idea. But just to keep you from being depressed because of me, my Christmas was not too bad, though just a bit odd. My mom got sick a couple days before Christmas, so I worked a lot, she didn't go shopping (so I got few things for Christmas, which doesn't bother me--I actually don't like to get lots of gifts, anyway. I just like to open them. I may or may not have had a supernatural visitation on Christmas morning. Let's just say that I'm supersitious, so I'll tell anyway. It makes for an interesting story, anyway. I was asleep, dreaming about something, when I felt someone poke me in the leg, on my left calf. So I woke up and saw a blurry person that looked like my mom, wearing a dark red nightgown. She turned toward my bedroom door and started walking out. I looked at my clock, saw that it was 5:30 AM, and roused myself out of bed, thinking that maybe my mom wanted to talk to me (since we had gotten into an argument the night before). No one's in the hallway, so I went to my parents' room, and peeked in. My mom was asleep, wearing the white and blue nightgown she has. I wrote it off as a dream and went back to bed, even though I'm not sure why I'd dream about a person in my room when I was awake... The next day, I told my mom about it, and she asked me about the person who poked me and said that maybe it was my aunt, who died of breast cancer when I was 13 years old. (Every now and then, she does visit). So there's my ghost story.
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