Jersey City Night Terror – Story by Jodi

Seventeen years ago, we were living in a home that was built in the early 1930s.

I was alone at night with my three children, aged 3, 5, and 7.

My three-year-old always had a habit of coming into my room in the middle of the night and coming into my bed. I was always awake at that time, as I had sleep issues.

One typical evening, my three-year-old came barging in around three am. I was already wide awake, as I usually was. She climbed into my bed next to me and we snuggled in together.

A few minutes later, she crawled away to another part of the bed, and she said, “No, no, no…”.

She settled down, so I did as well. As soon as I got comfortable, she started crawling again to another part of the bed, again saying, “No, no, no…” .

Again, she settled down, this time by the foot of the bed, but began saying, “No, no, NO, NO!” very distressfully.

I immediately sat straight up and saw her lying on her belly with her legs and arms tucked in, her face facing the left side of the room, her eyes closed tightly as if she were having a bad dream.

I reached over to lift her, and it was if she were glued to the mattress – I couldn’t get her to budge. Not one inch.

Looking around with the only light in the room being the moonlight shining through my window, not understanding what could be causing this, I shout out, “LEAVE HER ALONE!”

At that exact moment, I felt the sensation of two hands – one on each of my collar bones.

Once they connected with me, I felt as if I were underwater and everything was moving in slow motion, and then I was violently shoved backwards.

As soon as my body made contact with my headboard, I sprang back up and reached for my daughter again – I was able to lift her safely into my arms without any difficulty.

My daughter thankfully doesn’t remember that night.