Submission from a reader.

We have been getting emails from some of our readers who want to share their experiences.  Lets call this one..... Amanda.




So when I was a teenager, maybe 15ish if I remember correctly, I had a really close friend that had this huge crush on a guy. I never knew the guy, had not so much as even seen him. All that I knew about the guy was his name (cause my friend talked about him constantly). That summer I spent the summer away in FL with my dad and when I returned home I found that my friend's crush had passed in an accident. She was heartbroken. Fast forward a little later that same year, said friend and I and another friend have a little sleepover. While the one friend passed out my good friend and I laid on the floor just talking about random whatever's. All a sudden she turns away from me and freezes. A minute or so pass and she collects herself and turns back to face me. I asked if she was ok, she said that she was, but she was really pale like she just had the shit scared our of her. We go on with our random conversations and she freezes again, goes pale and gets up and goes to the bathroom. I give her a few mins, a little weirded out myself and when I go in to check on her I find her sitting on the edge of the big Jacuzzi tub. I go and sit next to her and almost beg for her to tell me what is going on. She goes on to ask me if I remember the guy that she had a crush on. Of course I remembered the endless conversations we had about him so I told her yes. After some more prodding she tells me that as we were talking, she did not see me, she saw his face. At this point I honestly thought she might have been on some kind of drug. She said this was what happened the second time as well. At that point I thought it might just be best to leave well enough alone and call it a night. We were obviously exhausted and her slightly delirious. The next day her and I went back to my house. I was talking to my mom about the incident from the night before and she told me that he wanted to talk to her and that I should let him. At this point, I think my mother is crazy too. But I decide what the heck, can't hurt. So I tell my friend that we are going to talk, and that I am going to let him talk to her and to feel free to ask him questions in hopes of her getting some of the closure that she needed. We sat down at the kitchen table and just started to talk. Now remember at the beginning of the story, I never met this guy and seriously knew nothing about him more than his name and all that I knew in regards to the accident that killed him was that he was on an atv. She starts to ask me questions that really could have been general knowledge for anyone that had hung out with him for any amount of time. Things like him wearing a hat the day he died (apparently he ALWAYS wore a hat) and just missing each other. She asked a specific question though and this is where it got really weird to me. I could feel that I was present but I knew it was no longer my words or actions at the table. She asked what happened to his hat and I (he) laughed. She asked what was so funny. I (he) tells her that he knows where it is and that it is ok that they have it. A friend went to the site after everything was over and had found it and was keeping it in their dresser. He tells her that it is ok, he wanted that guy to have it and he needed it more than she did but would not tell her who it. The conversation pretty much stopped after that. A few weeks later my friend comes to me and tells me that she found out where his hat was. She told me she found the friend that had gone to the site after the accident and said that it went down like I had told her that day. A friend was really upset and showed up there looking for anything. He found the guy's hat off to the side almost hidden in some brush and he picked it up and kept it as a reminder of his friend. Guess where the guy had been keeping the hat? The 3rd drawer of his dresser.