This was a few years ago when I lived in Savannah Georgia. I was about thirteen, maybe fourteen at the time, and was homeschooled due to intense bullying in public schools. The homeschooling program took place online, and for state tests, they took all the students to a series of buildings to take the CRCTs. My building was the old library.

Every time I stepped into the building over the three day period, I felt awful. That gut drop, stomach-doing-flips feeling. A well known feeling to other sensitive people. I knew it had to be something, so on the last day of testing, I asked my grandmother, who I call Namie, if she felt the same.

She told me she did, but we were safe. I settled down, knowing she doesn't lie about this kind of stuff. However, things got a bit unusual after that.

When my name was called for my testing, I got up and shuffled over to the woman who called me. She smiled sweetly and guided me to a repurposed conference room fitted with a test booklet and #2 pencils. It was an old room - the paint on the walls was chipping off, revealing the red bricks underneath, and the table was one of those antique civil war tables, the ones with the legs bolted into the floor. I grew nervous, because this room in particular just felt... off. My stomach felt like it was doing jumping jacks in my throat, and I was unnaturally cold.

The moment the lady left the room to fetch my assigned teacher, I saw something white bolt in front of my face. I swatted, thinking it was one of the ever present sand gnats I. Savannah, until I heard a faint giggle come from my right. I turned, and saw that white orb for a split second before it darted away, still giggling. I had remembered something my Namie taught me just then... Simply tell it to go to the light, or to find someone better equipped to help them. So, I said that, word for word.

The orb then stopped abruptly, hovering a few inches from my face. I heard a little girl's voice ask, "why can't you play?" I felt compelled to answer, so I did, in a respectful tone. This was a dead child I was talking to, after all. "I'm... I'm busy. I have to do this work here. Go talk to my Namie downstairs, she can help. She looks a bit like me. Go along, now."

The orb then flew out of the room at lightning speed the moment the teacher arrived. From that point, it was just me, the teacher, and my test. I felt better, so I knew I did something right, so I tested in peace. I even scored higher than most of the state, so the encounter didn't cut into my performance, at least.

When the test was over, the teacher guided me downstairs to my grandmother. She was quietly muttering and fidgeting, presumably talking to herself. "Hey, Namie. I'm done testing!" I exclaimed, to which she looked up at me in surprise. The look she gave me was proof. I knew right then she wasn't talking to herself.

When we left, she praised me for doing as she taught me. "Trapped spirits need all the help they can get so they can move on." She said, patting me on the shoulder. I have always accepted guidance from the gifted people in my family, mainly because I'm young and don't really know what to do. I'm glad I did the right thing, and I hope the little girl has moved on.
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