Ghost crash

The ghost, that's what I believe it was, terrorized me as a young girl in Hawaii by walking outside my bedroom window and sitting on the end of my bed a few times a week.  These events happened regularly and often, but what happened one night only happened once or I might have died of a heart attack. 

One moonless night the footsteps woke me.  With my stuffed animals arranged carefully and the covers well-tucked under head, I listened intently.  They began outside as usual, but then they changed direction, coming from the doorway of our bedroom.  Unusually for me, I lay on my back that night.   As the steps came closer fear paralysed me and prevented me from turning over.  My entire body became clammy, breaths came quick and shallow.  The footsteps stopped and I suddenly became  aware that the "man" was standing next to my bed!

The next thing that happened still makes me profoundly afraid to this day.  Unthinkably, the ghost fell on top of me!  I felt his warm breath on my neck, the weight of his body on top of me.  Once he had fallen neither of us moved.  I couldn't!  And then the feeling dissipated.  He did not get up again, he simply disintegrated.  For the rest of the night I lay there wide awake until dawn.

Shortly after that our living arrangements changed enough so that I could be moved to another bedroom in the house and the haunting stopped.  No one sat on my bed in the other bedroom and it became apparent to me, anyway, that the ghost was associated with that place.  Who was it and why did they haunt that place?  I feel that it was a man who lived in the house and had contemplated suicide for months.  The walking and sitting sounded pensive, as if someone were trying to decide what to do.  When the ghost came to my bedside and fell, I think that he was "reliving" his suicide.  It is said that those who commit suicide are locked in a kind of limbo between earth and heaven and I believe that this could be true. 

Later, as a grown woman, my Mom and I talked about the haunting incident of my youth.  Through that whole scary time my Mother had tried to calm my fears to make it seem like everything had a rational explanation.  It did help for her to say those things and she also gave me the tools to think about it rationally at the time (though I just couldn't). But now that I was all grown up she said something that shocked me.  I asked her what she thought it was that had happened to me, and this time she said, "I don't know, Cari, but you sure scared the hell out of me!"