Lived in an old two bedroom, three storey walkup for a time in my early 20s in Toronto. A few days after moving in my roommate Mike chides me in the morning for banging on the wall that separated our bedrooms and pacing back and forth across the apartment at night. We just agreed he must have been dreaming or it was sounds from other apartments as I had done no such thing. We agreed that it must have been nothing and left it at that but this became a regular nightly occurrence.


Shortly thereafter I started noticing at certain times in my own bedroom the cloying smell of cheap women's perfurme mixed with a damp musty smell. Imagine an old person's clothes left on a damp musty basement floor near a litterbox that wasn't being changed often enough and you get the idea. What made it even weirder is that I would be filled with a sudden horrible sense of foreboding a few moments before the smell would begin.

Mike flaked out and left only 4 months into our 1 year lease which meant I was left footing the rent for the entire place until I could find another roommate. I had decided to try and sleep in his bedroom shortly after he moved to see if things would get better. The very first night I slept in his former room I had an incredibly detailed and realistic nightmare of myself standing in the dimly-lit bathroom of the apartment and cutting my own face with a large shard of glass while staring into the broken bathroom mirror (it was only broken in the dream)

Soon after that I started to hear the loud bangs at night and the flushing of the toilet in the bathroom. Several times the hot water in the bathtub turned on full blast in the middle of the night.

One of the freakier things that happened not too long before I moved is the time I was woken up by the TV blaring Poltergeist on CityTV at about 2 in the morning. At the time that channel would always play movies late at night but the fact that the one time my analog TV (turn a k**b to change the channel or the volume, pull a k**b to turn it on) turned on by itself at full blast was the time a movie like Poltergeist was playing.

This is second hand from my mom so I dont remember everything, but when I was younger (like 3 or 4) and she was home alone with me some guy came up to the door. This was before cellphones and people were nicer so she answered it even tho it was like 8 or 9 at night. Well the guy was asking if he could come in and use her phone but she said no. He asked a couple more times before walking in and immediately got stop by the family dog grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. He started to get nervous and my dads dog led him back to the door (he had walked further in at this point) my mom was able to push him out and lock the door before running upstairs and calling the police. The cops picked him up a little while later and they found out he had been in a bar fight and stabbed a guy a bunch of times. Without my "older brother" my mom and I could've been seriously hurt. He was the best dog ever and lived till the ripe age of 15.

About 8 years ago, I was in the navy at the time on a US Submarine. I woke up to the 1MC (Ship wide announcing circuit) and the Pilot (guy driving the boat) yelling "JAM DIVE! JAM DIVE!". Which translates to "The boat is uncontrollably nosediving towards the sea floor." We were in the Pacific, so keel to bottom was about 14,000 ft or so.

I felt the boat take a steep downward angle and I rolled against the forward bulkhead in my rack because of it, so I knew it was real. A lot went through my head, but I kind of just accepted that this was happening and there wasn't anything I could do about it. So I just cuddled my blanket, closed my eyes, and waited for the implosion.

Luckily, they were able to pull us out of the dive and leveled off deeper than im allowed to say. And we lived. But, yeah, have had trouble sleeping ever since.

Woke up to my partner having a seizure in bed beside me.

Followed by another. And another. He stopped breathing after the third so I had to do compressions until the ambulance arrived. Regained consciousness, had another seizure as they were bringing him into the ambulance, had another and passed out again.

Septic meningitis attacked his brain stem, rendering him unconscious and unable to breathe unassisted for several days. His temperature shot up to *42°* and I was told that IF he woke up, he would most likely be in a wheelchair.

Cruelly, he actually came around for about three seconds, just as they were performing a lumbar puncture. I had to help hold him down which was... traumatic to say the least.

He woke up (sheer stubbornness I believe!) after several days and was left with speech issues, mobility issues, memory lapses, mood swings, depression, night terrors, insomnia and some other issues. I'm a small woman and he's a gigantic 16 stone man built like a garden shed, strong and broad, 6'3" so you can imagine how hard it was for me to help him up the stairs to the shower or to bed.

He couldn't remember the kids, he couldn't remember who I was, he couldn't talk properly, he couldn't feed himself, wash himself, use the bathroom by himself. He forgot that his dad had passed away and I had to tell him and watch him grieve all over again.

He would wake in a panic, choking, because he was convinced there were tubes wriggling down his throat, or he'd freak out if he woke up and saw me in bed because he had no idea who I was. He simply saw a strange woman in bed beside him. Once, he panicked and hit me because he didn't know who was in bed with him.

That was in 2019 and he's pretty much back to his old self thank goodness. He still gets some memory lapses, he's on a rake of meds, he sometimes finds it difficult to regulate his emotions, but he is walking, talking, independent again. He doesn't remember a thing about his sickness. He remembers us in bed and then he woke up with a machine breathing for him.

Unfortunately I remember everything, the seizures, the horrible noises he made as he woke up and began to panic, I remember the terror of hoping that I could keep doing compressions until help came. I couldn't sleep in our bed until he was home. I still have nightmares where I'm doing compressions but he's not breathing or he just doesn't wake up.

My heart stops anytime he snores or jerks or jumps in bed so my sleep isn't great. But he's here and alive and well, and I am so so grateful that he is.

I was house sitting for my dad by myself. Around 2 am, the door to my room started rattling and it sounded like someone was pounding on the door. I was frozen in fear, when the door burst open. In saunters my dad's 30 lb cat who then hopped on the bed, sat on the top of my head, and began to eat my hair.

1. An artillery shell landed on my roof.

2. A powerful earthquake destroyed the entire area except for my tent.