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This story was told Sofia Cahuses. I cite it here in the form in which she was told.

That evening I accompanied the mother of his girlfriend, who had more than fifty years lived in our small town. I came home late in the evening and could not fall asleep.

Evgeniy for five years As I became a widow and lived literally a ten minute walk from my house. Her daughter, Julia, my friend of childhood, begged her mother to move to her, in another city.
- Mom, I want you to be there. I do not want to wake up every morning only with one thought that you are there alone, in a hundred kilometers from me and grandchildren.

As it came out, the eyes lived in the literal sense, but there was no sleep. Several times during the night I turned on the TV, took a book in my hands.
Then I decided to overcome myself. Disabled the TV, put the book and turning off the light, began to count.
"One ... two ... three ... ten ... eighty ... one hundred thirty ... two hundred fifty ..."

And then ... Further, the action unfolded on the script of a fantastic film. Lying in bed, almost half asleep, I heard a simple knock on the window. Lazily rising, went to the window and, opening the chart, came to horror.

On the road near my house there was a bus from the funeral bureau with a black stripe in the middle. From him they looked at me in the windows of my friends who left this world and moved to "other".

I felt my hands and fingers of my feet, as the feet become wadded on the forehead and nose, and the tongue sticks to the sky. Goosebumps began to run around the body.

The father of my childhood friend of Yulki and husband Evgenia, who early in the morning should leave our town, Uncle Lenya should have been standing near my window.
- Sonya, why are you so frightened to look at me? He asked and, smiling at me, continued, - I won't do anything bad. Line and go outside ... you need to swim ...
I continued to stand and looked outside the window glass with horror.

People began to leave the buse. Many of them I personally saw in the coffin. They had the same things in which they were seen familiar and friends, accomplishing on the last path.

Tamara approached Uncle Lena, former colleague My sister, who died of cancer, leaving a two-year-old son.
- Why don't you go to us? - asked Tamara, - Do not be afraid of us ... We will not do anything bad ... you need to be afraid of living, and not dead ...
- What are you doing here? - I asked frightened, thinking that death came for me, - I do not want to die! I do not want! There is bad, there is scary and there is dark ...
- Look at me, "said Uncle Lenya and smiled again," look at me carefully ... Do I look badly? "

And in fact ... Uncle Lenya last ten years of his life very often sick and was very heavy. In addition to asthma, there was still a bunch of any adverse diseases. Now in front of me stood a lifting man with clear eyes.

- I live in an excellent place, he said, - in pine Bor.... This place is perfect for my health.
- What are you doing here? - I asked the brave language, "you are all the dead."
- They came to spend you, earthlings, "one of my good acquaintance intervened in the conversation, who died in a car accident.

I do not remember what happened next ... And how much I stood for minutes or seconds with open mouth. Then ... Then I asked them:
- What's there? On the other side of life? Is scary there? Bad?
"No," Uncle Lenya said, "the hell is not so terrible, as you draw it ... There is another life ... Other concepts about life ..."

- Do you want to ... to us ... to Earth?
- We want peace ... We want to drive us away from us, they did not hurt us and remembered that we are always next to you, we follow your life ...
- Watch? I asked frightened.
"That came to see how my spouse will leave our house ... It's hard for her to do it ... It's hard ... So I came to help her, support her ...

"Uncle Lenya," after a brief silence, I asked, "do you want to us?" In our life?
- My mission on earth is finished ... All I could, I did ... Now I am at home.
- At home? - I asked in bewilderment, - how is it at home? At home I ... and you are not at home ... You are in the coffin ...
"Ha ha ha," the dead laughed cheerfully.

"Sonechka," Tamara said, "It's you Guest ... Earth Guest ... And the coffin ... So we leave your world ..."
"Just do not think about me to say that there is good ... that there is a postal kingdom there, and everyone lives, like in a fairy tale.
- Why do everyone live, like in a fairy tale?! No ... Life and there is not a paradise ... there you also need to work and live ... there is an eternity ... And there is a stop ...

I do not remember that I asked what they told me, I just remember one thing that I asked a few questions that to this day make me think about many.
- How often do you visit us, and how often do you want to see us?
"Almost any of us does not pull on Earth ... But there are exceptions ... Grandparents who have little grandchildren stayed, want to see kids ... They come to them at night, when they are sleeping tightly," Uncle Lenya said.
"I want to see my son ... Put it to myself ... I left it such a little, so helpless ... I left him when he needed so much in me ... I don't really visit him ... There is no time for it, - with annoyance in voice. Tamara said.

- We have our own life, and do not worry us on trifles ... Do not come to the grave when you think about ... Do not disturb us ... Do not torment us and do not torment our souls ... There is a church ... Go there ... Pray for our soul, - Spoken Uncle Lenya.
- Why?
- You invade a different world ... The world, incomprehensible to you ... The time will come, and you yourself will understand everything ...

- Who is bad there, in this other world?
- Who is bad? Who sensed himself and deprived himself of life? ... it's scary ... it's very scary ... We don't accept these people, our world, and they are already dead ... They are trying to press to die, but it is impossible ... God gave a man life And only God can take it from us.
- Uncle Lenya, do not scare me. What do you want to say that the killer ... A man who deprived the life of another, in your world lives better than the one who ordered his destiny himself?
- Probably, yes ... these people are slaves ... they take newcomers ... They work with them ... pass with them adaptation ... teach them to live according to our laws ...

Alarm clock rang ...

I stood in the middle of the room in the clothes and all shaking off the fear ... to this day I still can not understand what it was: sleep or ...

And if or ...

Starting, I began to talk about the night aliens.
After the story told in the accounting, silence came. Interrupted it elderly woman.
- Miracle, "she said," before those people who deprived themselves of their lives, buried behind the gates of the cemetery and they did not eat them in the church ...

After a year, my girlfriend comes to me and says:
- I had such life situation... I did not see the exit ... Mother died, her husband went to the other ... I did not want to live ... I decided to cut the veins ... filled the bath with water, took the knife and ... at that moment I remembered your story about night guests ... I was scared ... scary ... that in that incomprehensible to me world I will suffer even more. After two days later I met a sushka ... Now we are waiting for a son ... Hopeless situations It just does not happen ... if you can't fight, then you just need to wait for this unsuccessful period.

I want to believe that we are not dying to be coming ...
That the soul after our death will live ... But the world is unknown to us ... And no one gave us rights to him. If he is, that world, then people live there in their laws ...

This story happened to my girlfriend Tanya a few years ago. In those years she worked in funeral Bureau, I took orders and issued documents, in general, made the usual routine work. Their labor functions She carried out during the day, and other employees remained overnight. But somehow, due to the departure of one colleague on vacation, they offered Tanya for two weeks to work in the night shift, and she agreed.

In the evening, standing on shift, Tanya checked all the documents and telephone, talked to employees who were on duty in the basement, and sat on their own workplace. Hummer, colleagues went to bed, no calls from customers did not receive. Time went with his guy, Tanya missed his workplace, and only a cat, who came across them at work and considered a collective, a little cleaned her life, and that at that time he slept.

I did not particularly believe in the stories about how the intercom calls and then someone breaks into the apartment. But my aunt's story shake my disbelief.

My aunt, cousin Father Hope is a terry materialist. She does not believe in anything otherworldly, believes that any phenomenon is a physical or chemical explanation. In general, she never entered the discussion of this kind, believing that each his own. She economist has a scientific degree, taught in one of the universities. Now she is 65 years old, no children got married by chance (according to her own words) in 50 years. Her husband, Mikhail, on the contrary - very believes in supernatural powers, I am fond of ufology, and in general it is an engineer and master of all hands.

This story happened to my mom's childhood friend, let's call her Lena. Here you should make a little retreat, in order to tell about the heroine of the story. Lena woman is very simple, if not to say more. The books do not read, fantastic and mystics is not fond of most She worked as an ordinary clerk in a bank and blame her in a lifting or walked fantasy would not come to mind. For this reason, the story told by it does not cause any doubts, it would simply be able to invent her.

On one day, Lena sat at home with a four-year son Sasha in their one-room apartment and was engaged in the economy. Leaving a boy who was lented by playing with cars in the room, Lena retired to the kitchen to cook dinner for her husband, well, and as usual, he twisted in affairs and did not look at the room for a long time.

I'll tell you the story that I was told at the funeral of the relative. Women became among themselves to criticize a woman Mullah, they say she does not give to cry from the soul. And suddenly, one of those present in the conversation, a relative began to tell me too about tears, but rather strange.

From her words, her niece died, which we have a detailed relative. During his lifetime, I did not know her, a young girl, a student of the medical institute, very beautiful, committed himself. Nothing accompanied such behavior, as it was a very cheerful, successful and favorite in the family. And suicide itself left a lot of questions that did not find answers. She jumped from the highlight. This was the police version. Law enforcement agencies and parents did not find anything other than a farewell letter in the social network.

Dear site readers, this story will be about unusual dreams with the participation of the dead. I understand that reading about dreams may not always be interesting, but, as you know, in a dream we connect if we competently express to universal space and you need to carefully treat the fact that the dead tell us in a dream or do.

To begin with, I will explain that the dead will shoot me extremely rare. The exception was only the grandmother, which one time quite often dreamed of me, for some reason is always sad and dissatisfied, although there was no such in life. But these dreams have long stopped and well. But some other relatives dreamed of literally several times and always had significant events after that.

I have never come across a similar phenomenon before, although I have seen a lot of unusual things. Someone calls them supernatural, someone miracles, someone delirious, accompanying the framed framed phrase about the fact that the mushrooms need to collect only edible, but it's time to smoke. But, "I will not throw away from the song songs ..."

Terrible stories about the dead, death and cemeteries. At the junction of our world and otherworldly, very strange and unusual phenomena occur, which are difficult to explain even very skeptical people.

If you also have something to tell on this topic, you can absolutely free.

Recently, a familiar woman died mom. She was very worried and shared his reflections. He told the story that she woke up in the morning early, got out of bed and wanted to include light. The switch clulred, the light bulb caught fire and immediately extinct. I tried to include several times, but she did not light up, then I decided to replace. Twisted, and she is a whole. She thought that this was a sign and began to forgive the sorry out of her mother's soul.

Recently read about the mustache with a burning candle in front of his photo. I read late in the evening and at the end of the prayer for some reason felt fear. It was on the 9th day after the funeral. Anxiety crept.

Before that, the deceased man was given a day, as in a dream. I did not understand anything at all, as it flashed very quickly, and I only remembered the image of an igniting candle and so brightly burning.

I will write about small strange cases that happened to me and which I heard from witnesses of phenomena.

Mom lives in a private house. When was in force, often something baked, she had wonderful pies. I come to my mother. She sits at the table with my brother's daughter. Sit at the table near the window, eat piers, drink tea. Immediately from the threshold, I begin to talk to me: "And we have seen this! Just! 5 minutes ago, flew past the window over the beds somewhat perfect. So slowly, everyone is different than the size of the middle ball. Light in appearance as bubble. And such all bright, iridescent different colors. They flew purposefully, calmly, as if someone went and led them on a thread. And flew toward the neighbors, to the Baba field. From the window, how many were able, watched, did not come to the street, because, despite the fact that summer was, the day, the sun, for some reason it was scary. " I helped them eat pies, and in an hour and a half, we went to the houses with Lena. They went to the courtyard, and some kind of bustling came from the yard, the neighbor on the street was spoken from the house opposite: "Baba Field died."

Batyushki is not recommended to open the coffin after the deceased sent off and the cover was nailing. I always knew about this ban, but could not find explanations to this. Google, I came to the conclusion that as it were, there is no official version, no. And now, even, with the permission of the father, is sometimes resolved in the cemetery, the lid open to the people who were not in the church on the funeral could say goodbye to the departed. But still undesirable.

With this question I turned to my 80-year-old granny. What she told me a story that happened to her relatives in the village.

As a child, every summer I rested my grandparents in the village. But when I turned nine years old, my grandmother died from cancer. She was responsive and good man, and very good grandmother.

At fourteen years I came to the village to the grandfather, who was very lonely and sad without a wife. In the morning, my grandfather went to the local market while I slept in a cozy bed.

Here I hear some incomprehensible steps on the wooden floor. Creaks straight clearly. I lay face to the wall and was afraid to move. At first I thought that this grandfather came back. Then he remembered that in the morning he was always on the market. And suddenly, someone's cold hand descends on my shoulder, and then I hear the voice of the late grandmother: "Do not go to the river." I could not even move could not be from fear, and when I took himself in my hands, nothing strange was happening.

I am here that we live next to the cemetery and I had a young drinking neighbor. It came to her father deceased, and we reasoned about life and death. She eventually died. Recently was a year since death.

She lived in the house located along the main street and the past of which have to go through every day. And this year, I went to the store almost every day, past her at home, but did not go calmly, but I ran faster without looking. There was always a bad feeling and some kind of non-life. I wrote everything to last death and time.

When I received my profession, I lived in a hostel hometown. Home went every two weeks. 3 girls lived in a hostel room, their native home It was closer than mine and to parents they traveled every weekend.

In January 2007, my only grandmother died. Although during her life, we did not often communicate with her, and we were not so close to us with her, but after death, she often dreamed of some time. But it will be about one dream or phenomenon, I do not even know how to call.

The grandmother was a fortieth day, but I didn't go to the commemoration, we were just exams (and how I said, we did not have any particular warm relationships with her). I stayed alone in the room and was preparing for exams, the time was for about 2 o'clock in the morning, and I decided to go to bed. The light I did not turn off (we often slept with the girls with the light), closed the door to the scorch and, turning to the wall, lay down. Sleep Well, I did not want to go to me, and I was lying and thought about all sorts of exams.

I have lived in a small village near railway, and around there was a forest. Parents worked in another city and rarely came, and I lived with my grandfather and grandmother.

When I was very small, we did not live in the village very, but on the hurry near the cemetery. There was somewhat very old, probably, the nineteenth century building houses and people still lived in them. Then grandfather built new house In the village itself, and we moved.

From my childhood I got used to the cemetery and was not afraid of him and I often walked there. The cemetery was also very old, but sometimes also buried on it. Small completely, easy to get around. I liked to consider photos and names on the tombstones, representing what people were lying here that they were seeing and survived, whatever with them could be talking about. There was about my age nearby, I came to her and put the flowers on the grave, there were several more graves of the elderly people who I especially liked. Maybe all this was from loneliness. There were no other children in the village, alone adults, not to play with anyone. But it always seemed to me that the dead, as I called them mentally, this is quite real creatures that can be communicated if you try.

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