A writer who loves fantasy, avoids reality, and who knows the value of hanging a death skull outside my door to ward off uninvited visitors.

Monday, January 23, 2012

The Ghosts That Would Not Be Ignored

Who here believes in (and is afraid of) ghosts? I kinda' sorta' believe in them only because I've had some chilling encounters that still give me goosebumps.

The first one took place when I was about fifteen years old. I remember being home alone (I lived with my mom and 5-yr old little sister at the time). I was in the kitchen, when all of a sudden, I got this sense that I was being watched, so I turned to the counter that led to the dining room. And then I saw it. A thin, pale forearm dipping below the counter, as though someone was there and had just ducked out of sight. I freaked! I didn't know what to do. Should I call the cops? And tell them what, I asked myself. "Hi, there's an arm in my house." I felt like an idiot just thinking about that call, so instead, I looked around for a knife. Sadly, the closest thing to me was a spatula. Before I could grab it though, my mom and sister came home. They found me still standing in the kitchen, shaking. I checked around the house, but there was no sign that anyone had been there but me.

Okay, now that I think about it, that wasn't so much scary as it was ridiculous. Now, that is. Back then, it scared the hell out of me. I guess you had to be there.

A moment of silence to let the blushing smirk on my face pass with a little dignity.

Now, here's the encounter that was downright frightening. It's the kind of story that opens a movie about a haunting that ends with a resounding, "Holy crap!"

This was a long time ago. My mom and her boyfriend were going to Venezuela for four days, so they wanted me and my hubby to stay at her house to watch over my then 15-yr old little sister. The first night we were there was a Wednesday (I remember it clearly because Dawson's Creek was on). At the time, our dog, Gypsy, had just had eye surgery, and she needed some eye drops applied every day. So just before eight o'clock at night rolled around, my hubby went home to give Gypsy her drops really quick. My sister, who'd left when he did, went to my older brother's house. He and his wife lived two doors down, with both my father and little brother.

So there I was, alone in my mom's house, curled up on the sofa with the remote and the giddiness that came with watching Dawson. Not five minutes into the show, I heard voices coming from my sister's room. I didn't freak out, only because I knew it was the T.V.. I got up to turn it off, then came back to the family room, and after I sat down, I heard the T.V. again. Now I freaked because I'd just turned it off. What could I do but get up to do it again, but I did so thinking something must be wrong with her set. So again, I turned it off, but this time, just as I turned my back on the T.V. to leave the room, it came on again. A chill came over me so badly, so I turned back to the room slowly, shaking, not having a clue as to what to do. I was sure someone was in the house, screwing with me. I looked around for something to protect myself with, but the closest thing at my disposal was a flat-heeled shoe that could have easily passed for a slipper. Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Hell, my hubby still refuses to let me forget what my weapon of choice was.

So I grabbed the shoe, which, no doubt would have done nothing more than make the intruder die of laughter before he could attack his slipper-wielding killer. Anyway, so, with shoe in hand, I checked on the other side of the bed where the T.V. was, but there was no one there. I giggled to myself and made to go back to the family room, when suddenly, there was a thud in the hallway in front of me. My first thought was, "Holy crap, someone IS in the house." Now, what would any self-respecting person do in such a situation? Run? Call the cops? Grab a knife? Any of those would have sufficed in preserving my dignity. But no. I ran to the phone, shoe still in hand, and called....wait for it...my little sister.

"Jenn, someone's in the house."

"I'll be right there," she said firmly before hanging up the phone.

Yeah yeah, get it out of your system now.

I went to the kitchen and this time, I grabbed a knife. A BIG knife. Not two minutes later, I went over to the front door in response to the sound of keys. I looked out the peephole and nearly died of laughter myself. My sister had brought our little brother, Chad, who was like eight at the time. He was standing in front of her, his face pale, his hand shaking as he tried to insert the house key. My sister was behind him, her face scrunched up in attack mode as she held out a broom in front of herself like a sword.

Chad and Jenn (today)

They came into the house and we all stood there by the entryway, as I told them what had happened. After I finished, we all heard a loud thud against the wall in the hallway that led to my mom's room. We all froze.

"Well, I have to go home now," my little brother said flatly, as he backed away towards the door. He ran like his ass was on fire, let me tell you.

After he left, my sister and I heard the thud again, only this time, it was closer. She ran to the phone and called my dad, who quickly came over and checked out the house, to no avail. He told us to relax because the house was locked up and safe, then he went home. A few minutes after he left though, we heard it again, and when we looked towards the hallway, we noticed that a side gate outside, which we could see from the living room, was wide open. A gate that was always locked, mind you. This time, we called the cops and told them someone was in the house. They were amazing. The dispatcher told us to stay on the phone until the cops got there, which they did a few minutes later. They came in, and while one checked out the house, the other stayed in the kitchen with us, complimenting the house, the decor, the sofa. Hell, he even flirted with me. At the time I thought, "Thanks and all that, but shouldn't you be looking around for someone to arrest?" Now though, thinking back, he was probably trying to distract us from our own fear. Ten minutes later, the first cop came in and said the house was locked up. He also asked if we drank.

"She's too young, and I don't drink," I told him.

"Well, you might want to start now. Have a beer and relax. And if anything happens, call us back."

My hubby came back not five minutes after the cops left. We told him what had happened, so he checked out the place for himself, then, as it goes, we all decided to watch a horror movie. Yes, a horror movie. Talk about asking for it, huh? The problem was, the wall where the sofa was, had a giant opening next to it, and anyone sitting on the far end of the sofa would have their back to that opening, which was pitch black with the lights turned off. My sister and I squabbled over who'd sit there; neither of us wanted to be the first victim. I lost that battle. I don't remember what we saw, but after the movie, we decided to go to sleep. My sister insisted she sleep with me, so my hubby slept in her room, while Jenn and I slept in my mom's room.

I still remember having this dream where I woke up to find a man in black standing over me with a double barrel shot gun aimed at my face. I woke up so quick. Jenn was sitting up, just looking at me with this terrified look on her face. Just then, my hubby came into the room, looking so confused. He asked if either of us had just been walking in the hallway that led to my sister's room. We said we'd just woken up and had left the bed yet. Then he said he'd been woken up by the sound of high heels and he thought it was Jenn getting ready for school. Then Jenn told us about this dream she's just had, where she'd woken up to a man in black pointing a double barrel shotgun at her face. Chills raced over my spine. She and I had had the same freakin' dream. Then she told us about how so many times, my mom and her had heard voices in the house. And that, this one time, Jenn had come home from school and heard a car gearing up in the garage, so she checked, thinking it was my mom. But the garage was empty. Then she topped off her little ghostly revelation with a fact that I still feel to this day, should have been told to us long ago. She told us that the previous owner had committed suicide in the house. Needless to say, we left and spent the day with my dad.

So, do I believe in ghosts? Kinda, sorta. But have I actually seen them? No. Have I felt/heard them? Uh, yeah!

Who else here has experienced ghostly encounters? Please share!


  1. I remember some of that night. Not all of it. Lol

    1. I wish you did remember it all. It was so funny!!!!!! And your reaction was so priceless:)