Handprints On My Neck
I have been working with a group here in Maryland in an attempt to find a woman who went missing over 25 years ago. From time to time, she will appear in my home—which can be a little jarring. Last night, as I sat at my computer, the room became so cold that I could see my breath, and when I looked over at the doorway, she was standing there, soaking wet and crying. Rumor has it that her husband murdered her in order to avoid a nasty custody battle.
A smell of old leaves and mildew filled my room. As she moved closer to me—in one solid motion—I asked to what she wanted me to know this time. I don't remember walking back to my bedroom, but when I "came to" and looked up I saw the twisted face of my "husband" with his hands around my neck. I was looking at him from underneath the water. I kicked and screamed so loudly that my son ran into my room, only to find me covered in sweat. He later told me it smelled like a fish tank in my room—and we don't own fish! He helped me to the bathroom and when I looked into the mirror, there were two handprints on either side of my neck!
