For as long as I can remember I have had the ability to see spirits, but that is not the extent of my ability and this is not a story entirely about "ghosts". I can remember seeing and talking to people that no one else could see before I learned to walk and I feel as if spirits might be drawn to me, but as I got older I started having precognitive dreams.
When I was 10 I had the first one I can remember. I had been dreaming about a man I had never met dead in a ditch somewhere off of a highway, but it wasn't clear where. A week after I had the first dream of him they put his picture on the news saying that he was missing, and so I told my mom about the dreams I'd been having. I told her the picture was wrong because he should be wearing a purple shirt & jean shorts. She brushed them off as nonsense. After another week & a half or maybe two weeks the man was found wearing a purple shirt & jean shorts, and he had been beaten to death.
A year and a half later I started dreaming of death again only this time I knew the person I was dreaming about. I was 12. It was the closest person to me at the time. The one person I told everything to, and she too brushed it off as silly childish nonsense, that & fear of loss. I had the dream over & over for 6 months before my aunt died. I dreamed in such detail that I had information not released to the family, and when I spoke of this to my cousin he thought I was crazy. When he found out I was telling the truth about the details he thought I had been sneaking into the mortician's office & read something I wasn't supposed to. I was hurt that he didn't believe me.
When I was 14 I started going to a new school. I made friends with people I had dreamed I would meet. Then I started dreaming about their deaths. It turns out that most of them died the same night. I was supposed to go to an open house with them, and because of my dreams which I had warned them about I couldn't bring myself to get into the van. In the dreams I was in the van with them, and we were in an accident that caused the vehicle to be on fire.
What happened instead was the same accident I witnessed via sleep except that I wasn't in the van. Two of the people died with bad burns, two of smoke inhalation, these were at the scene. Two more died in the hospital one and two days after the accident. Four more of my friends found it too hard to cope with the loss of the friends that had rode in the van, and decided to take their own lives. The families of all of these kids decided not to alert the media to their story, we were grieving and didn't need to be on anyone's front page. (which is why I am not posting pictures for this)
Again after close to two years it happened yet again. The cousin I had confided in was dying in my dreams. He refused to listen to any talk about dreams at this point. And when it happened I was in Pique, Ohio at a family reunion. A state trooper tracked us down and told us during our lunch. Family members from all over the states sat with tears in their eyes passing a hat to help pay for the funeral and any other needed expenses. My grandmother made me sing the chorus to "Delta Dawn" by Tanya Tucker until I was hoarse & lost my voice.
When I was 18 I has dreams about a cousin I didn't know too well. No real details. Just a viewing of her funeral. I went to the funeral and was a rock for everyone else. Then I turned 20 and dreamed of my grandfather's funeral. He had a stroke and went into a coma. Sometimes his eyes flicked, and I knew that he could hear me. I was only alone with him once for a brief time. I promised him that we would take care of grandma and then his hand trembled for a second. I think he was trying to move it. Just as we were pulling into the drive we got a call from the hospital. As the phone was ringing I said to mom "He's gone." She still didn't understand how I knew.
That was the end of the two year jumps, but a few October's ago I had another one of "those crazy dreams" as I've come to call them. Both of my grandmothers had been in & out of the hospital & the one that seemed to be doing the best ended up being the one that had died. By this time I had been in the practice of calling my mom about the dreams & telling her everything. She's become more open to this kind of thing since the earlier times. I would call her and tell her how I dreamed of a funeral, and she would tell me that it was possible I'd be attending one sometime soon, and give me details I didn't have like what the grandmothers' doctors said.
I'd give her more details about the funeral and tell her who I saw there & she'd say, "No, my mother's fine now I'm worried about your other grandma." And I'd say "She'll be fine." After three months of this she called me in tears. I answered, she spoke my name and the conversation went like this: Me- "Grandma Ruby is dead." Mom- "Someone told you?" Me- "No." Mom- "You knew" Me- "Yes. And I've been trying to tell you." Mom- "How?" Me- "It's those crazy dreams. I've known before it happened nearly every time, and sometimes it's about people I don't even know." She apologized for not having believed when I was a kid. We talked for a long time then, and now we talk often about those crazy dreams.