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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Winthrop chapter.

     Ever since I was very young, I’ve been afraid of ghosts. I was honestly afraid of everything, but ghosts have always been one of my biggest fears. This fear began to grow after my grandfather died when I was only nine years old. I would often hear things and go look and nothing would be there. I’d also see things fall from off the wall when it hasn’t been touched at all. It freaked me out as a kid, but I had something telling me it was my grandfather. Obviously I was just a scared little kid so my mom would tell me that I had nothing to worry about and we would move on. Then as I grew older, my fear never went away. Anytime something unexpected would happen, I would get frightened and run out of the room. When I was 13 my grandmother passed away, and the fear came rushing back to me once again. Every noise made and every item to fall to the ground scared the crap out of me. One day, it all changed. I had a dream that I was playing with my cousin on the trampoline, and a little boy showed up. He had a glow around him, and he wasn’t dressed like little boy’s dress nowadays. He told me that he was my grandfather, and he started talking about my newborn cousin at the time, and how beautiful she was. After a while, I walked back into my cousins house to my grandma, and I told her, “That little boy said he was pawpaw, but he said his name is Jake.”

My grandma said, “That’s not Jake, that’s James. That’s your grandpa.”

I woke up and I wasn’t scared at all. It’s like he knew that coming to me in a dream was the way to tell me what he needed to without freaking me out. I later continued to have him in my dreams, and my grandmother too. My sister announced that she was pregnant in May of this year. We had to wait about three weeks to find out what the gender of the baby was. I had a dream the night before the gender reveal with my deceased grandmother, who led me to my sister holding a baby wrapped in blue. I found out the next day that I was getting a nephew. They come into my dreams to answer the questions I have on my mind. My other grandmother passed away this past October, and she comes in my dreams weekly. Sometimes it’s to tell me she’s okay, and other times it’s just what we went through in the last week of her life. I think it’s special that my grandparents all come to talk to me in my dreams, because it doesn’t happen to anyone else in my family.

     I never see them as ghosts. I never hear them in the present day. But they almost always come into my dreams, and this is something that I am grateful to have. Even though some dreams are more pleasant than others, I think that they come to me for a reason.

Megan Russell

Winthrop '24

19 years old, Mental Health Advocate, future educator!