Two Visitors From a World of Somewhere Else

by Sarah EstepFATE Magazine - April 2005

My experience with other dimensions goes back to the early age of three or four. Obviously, at that age, I knew nothing about different realities, but frequently I would have unusual waking experiences, in that everything would look strange when I opened my eyes.

All the furniture, the room, the hall were more real. There was added depth to each. I enjoyed this; it gave me a tingly kind of feeling, and after a minute or two, things would revert to normal. Since I thought everyone experienced this sort of thing, I never mentioned it. Forty years later in a book about psychic phenomena, I read a brief reference to it. The author called it "binocular vision," and said it was as if the person were looking through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars. This is an apt description. I know in the field of ophthalmology there is the same term, but that has nothing to do with my experiences.

Two Strange Men

One night when I was about five, these experiences became terrifying. Opening my eyes, I saw to my right two men standing in front of my bedroom dresser, their backs to me. My mother always kept my bedroom door open to the hall, with a light burning, so I could see them clearly. The men looked normal except for the way they were dressed. Both of them had on knee breeches, long-sleeved shirts, and vests, and one had a polka-dotted bandana tied around his head. They seemed unaware of me but they were fascinated with the objects on my dresser, picking up one thing after another and examining it closely. I screamed.

My parents both came running in as I sobbingly told them there were two men in my room. They assured me it was my imagination; I'd had a bad dream. In the bright light, I had to admit the men were not there. Giving me a kiss and pat, they returned to bed.

Almost immediately, the two men returned. Now they seemed aware of me and came and stood silently beside my bed, looking down at me. I pretended to be asleep but looked at them through barely opened eyes. After a moment, they went back to the dresser, murmuring softly to each other. A small box of pennies was shaken and once more I screamed.

My parents returned, and still crying, I told them the men had come back. I begged them to look in my closet and under my bed, which they did. There was no one there. Continuing to sob, I said I knew they were here somewhere, so my mother said she would sleep with me. As soon as she fell asleep, the men returned. Again, they stood beside me, looking down at my mother and me. Although terrified, I pretended to be asleep.

Why didn't I awaken my mother to see these two strangers standing a foot away? I knew she'd not be able to see them.

In a few minutes, the men left and went downstairs. I could her them walking around. One of them began playing loud crashing chords on the piano. The other picked up a favorite toy. It was a bird on a stick, and as you whirled it around in the air, it made a whistling sound.
Why didn't I awaken my mother to hear these noises? I knew she would not be able to hear them.

Morning came and my parents and I began to dress for the day. While doing this, I heard the chimes on the front door. Going to my bedroom window, I saw the two men talk down the front steps, turn to the left on the sidewalk, and continue walking until they were out of sight.

The Men Come Calling

My mother and father, hearing the chimes, went to the top of the stairs. Mary, a girl in her 20s, was living with us at the time while going to secretarial school. She slept in another part of the house and was unaware of what had happened during the night. One of Mary's chores was to get breakfast for us each morning. Mother called down the stairs and asked who was at the door. Mary, who appeared in shock, replied, "When the chimes sounded, I opened the door and there were two of the strangest looking men I've ever seen, so I slammed the door on them."
Both parents looked at me as if perhaps seeing me for the first time. Nothing further was ever said, but I know now that this was something so far out of their normal reality they didn't want to examine it further.

Unlike the previous experiences with binocular vision, which lasted just a minute or two, this remained for most of the day. Although no "extra" people were seen, everything in my house had that added dimension to it. By late afternoon it began fading away, and after a night of untroubled sleep, I awoke the next morning to my normal world. Never again did I have such an experience, and my binocular vision happened less frequently and ended completely within a year.

Where Did They Come From?

I believe the men I saw came from another dimension, a parallel world. Because of the way they were dressed and the fascination they had for the objects on my dresser, I think their time was different from ours -- almost as if it was 200 years behind our own. Somehow they slipped into my reality and were able to interact with it to a certain extent. After much reflection, I feel that I had a foot in another dimension during all of my binocular vision experiences. The night the two men came, perhaps I stepped a bit further out.

Strangely, my son Bob, now in his 40s, had a very similar experience when he was five. We have a strong psychic link between us, and although the instances don't happen frequently, when they do, they are a wonderment. One evening Bob woke up screaming. Charlie and I ran to his room. Bob was sitting up in bed crying as hard as only a five-year-old can. "There are animals all over my bed and all over the floor," he said as he pointed here and there.
Charlie told him he was just having a bad dream. "No, No, Dad, I see them. Look, there is an animal! He's climbing up on my bed."

Bob was terrified. Looking at his eyes, I could tell he did see, so very clearly, what I had seen 30 years earlier, except in my case, it had been two men. He was trying to push them off his bed. I told Charlie I felt Bob believed he was seeing what he claimed. He had no objection when I suggested we take Bob to bed with us for the rest of the night. After a final sob, Bob clamed down and slept until morning.

Do I believe the animals were actually in his room as the men were in mine? It could be. I believe Bob went a step too far, as I had done so very long ago, and entered their dimension for a few minutes.

As a result of this and other early experiences, I have always felt that all life, all consciousness, whatever world it exists in, is one. We cannot separate ourselves from each other, even from other worlds. We are all a part of whatever is.
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Sarah Estep is the author of Voices of Eternity and Roads to Eternity. She has researched electronic voice phenomena for many years.