At Death's Door

From: 
Story type: Angel
Location: philadelphia
Source: Form Submission

Back in the 1960's I lived in a small apt with my first wife. She and and I were asleep one cold winter night when about three or four in the morning I began to have this strange dream in which I was lying in bed ,in the very room I was in. I felt, as well as saw this presence come to the door to our bed room., and standing in the door way I saw a being that was hooded with no face that I could make out. Suddenly, (Directly in my ear) a booming voice began drumming over and over in a urgent voice saying "Get up- get- up he's at the door! Get up- get- up he's at the door!"

As I struggled to get up (in my dream)I was really struggling in fact to raise myself up to defend myself. The two plains merged, and I fould myself sitting up in bed so sick I almost threw up. I shook my wife, no response. Then I smelled it, that sweet smell only gas can make. I opened a window, pushed her head out and held her almost lifeless body there as long as I could. Somehow during the night the pilot on the gas stove had gone out, and filled our apartment with gas. The only thing that stood between us and death was that voice, that wonderful voice, and I hear it still across the years, "Get up- get- up he's at the door!"