So, as a kid, I always had trouble sleeping because even the smallest of noises would wake me up.

I’d get up and investigate, sleepwalk, whatever, I don’t know, it just always bothered me. As I got older, it filtered out of my system for most things. I’d be a lot more resilient and stuff to noises, that is, until I had kids. Yadda yadda yadda, I get my super hearing back. Not the point. <br><br>One night I’m getting some stuff ready for the next day, and I’m walking past my daughter’s room, when I overhear this little kid, like 8 or so, talking to my daughter. That’s nothing out of the ordinary, I mean, she’s 3 so she prattles on about random stuff, so that in itself wouldn’t have gotten my attention. That is, until I hear, “You know, I really like the way you smell.” <br><br>So I step just inside the room and say, “Excuse me? What’s that?” The kid looks at me, and says, “I like the way she smells.” I get a little cold. My voice gets a little more severe, “Who are you? What the hell is going on here?” There’s no one there. My daughter has been pretty good about not being afraid of me, so I walk right on up to her, this kid has gotta be messin with me. I get closer to her side, and I immediately pull my hand to my face. It smells like shit. I get up, and I walk out to the bathroom, after doing a lap of the house, and I take my hand to my face again. Still smells like shit. <br><br>So I go to the next room, which is my son’s room, and I see another little kid, different than the first, and I start going the same line of questioning as I did in the first room. This kid answers me with, “You don’t remember me, do you?” I’m a bit taken aback, “What do you mean?” The kid sighs and gets up and walks out the door. I’m immediately enraged as I chase after this kid, I was ready to haul off and smack the kid. What I didn’t notice was that I wasn’t in the hallway anymore. Some part of my brain noticed, but it didn’t register because I was too angry. <br><br>I was standing in a clearing, with basically nothing around me. The last thing I remember is being grabbed on the shoulders and smelling shit. <br><br>The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed, immediately shooting out of it to check on my son and daughter. And they’re both fine, which is great, but I got a whiff of shit on my hand. So I’m still trying to figure out what dream/nightmare I just had, and whether it was real or not, and I find out my hand still smells like shit. So I go to brush my teeth, then take a shower, and then clean my hands really good with soap. Well, the shit smell is gone, but I can still smell it. It’s a little less potent, but still very real. <br><br>That was 5 days ago. I still smell it. Everywhere, no matter what I do.