Hi. My name is Pamela. I am 42. I work part-time and am a senior university student in computer information systems with a 3.66 GPA. I'm married and my son is now 15. I am no flake. I swear this story is true.

When I was 28, we lived in a starter rambler house in a quiet neighborhood. I was a stay home Mom and spent much time educating, playing, reading, etc.. with my son, Justin, age 2 1/2.

One Saturday morning, I woke with a startle. I opened my eyes, and saw, I swear to God, a totally black male figure close to the door of my bedroom. Panic swept my body, I could feel my heart racing, and my eyes were focused on this black figure of a man. I could hear my husband in the shower. I tried to scream, but I was so panicky, instead I froze. I kept saying, in my head, "In the name of Jesus Christ be gone". It is a saying our church teaches to rid the presense of evil beings. He walked toward my bed, stopped at the bottom of my bed, then walked away from my bed and through the wall. I then started to scream my husband's name. When he came, I told him what happened and then slept with the hall light on for a month. I had always thought of myself as a brave soul, so much for that.

Just when I thought it was over. About month and a half later, my son, wakes me up about 3 am with a terrified scream. I ran to his room. He was crying histerically. I had never seen him so distraught from waking in the night. So, I swiftly took him and put him between myself and my husband in our bed. After about 7 minutes of talking about his favorite TV show, and how Mom was there, etc.., he calmed down. I calmly asked, "Did you have a bad dream"? He said, "No, I saw a black man in my room". Now, I wasn't scared, I was very angry. How dare this spirt scare a mere child. I promised him that the man would never come back again. Somehow, I just knew he wouldn't.

We have never again talked about it.