We're all fascinated by what we cannot explain. Whether it's vampires (side note: Edward Cullen is NOT a vampire. He is a creepy stalker douche bag who needs to meet Buffy or Blade or even old skool Anita Blake in a dark alley), werewolves, ghosts, monsters, or God, we love to take things on faith.
Because, truly, that is what is comes down to. Faith. Belief in something beyond us, beyond the basic senses and it's something we have true control over. We either believe in something, or we don't. We can have a weak belief, or one that is strong enough to survive the test of time.
I believe in ghosts. Places I've lived... I don't have a choice in it.
Two little girls I would baby sit when I was fourteen, they would talk to "the old lady" all the time. Every night I was there, I'd be reading them a story, and they're talking to the old lady. At first, I thought the old lady was simply kids being kids. How children imagine things that aren't there.
Then I saw the old lady; I'd broken up with my first love, and I was still weepy over the whole thing (really, when is a teenage girl *not* weepy over a boy?) and I was holding the littlest girl in my lap, smelling her hair, when the old lady appeared on the chair across from me. She had the saddest smile on her face, her eyes swallowed up by wrinkled skin. I almost dropped the little girl in fright, and the old woman disappeared. I never again sat in that chair.
My very first apartment, I had a girlfriend spend the night (we'd had fights with our mutual partners and were having a 'men are scum' night), and after we went to bed, neither of us could sleep. We lay in that queen size bed, on our bellies, with pillows tucked under us just right and snuggled together for maximum warmth. Just as we'd doze off, we'd be jolted away by an old woman who got a thrill out of seeing us jump. I swear, if a ghost could laugh out loud, she'd have been rolling around cackling like a crazed witch.
This same old woman would check on my neighbors daughter when she was sick. She'd rub my forehead when I had a headache. Not a real rub, and not on command, but when I would be truly ill and want only to pass out to get away from the ache, I'd feel her touch me between the eyes. It didn't make the pain go away, but it reminded me of when I was small, and I'd feel better.
In that same side, I've felt the angry presence of someone who would not rub my forehead when I was hurting. If they had the chance, I fully believe they'd have shoved a spike in my eye and called it a day. Vanishing pools of blood on my bedroom floor, the sensation that I was being choked when I was completely alone, and shadows moving around my bed at night that had me terrified enough I'd leave during the witching hour and sleep in my car.
Not everyone caught in that forever twilight was at peace with their leaving.
Because, truly, that is what is comes down to. Faith. Belief in something beyond us, beyond the basic senses and it's something we have true control over. We either believe in something, or we don't. We can have a weak belief, or one that is strong enough to survive the test of time.
I believe in ghosts. Places I've lived... I don't have a choice in it.
Two little girls I would baby sit when I was fourteen, they would talk to "the old lady" all the time. Every night I was there, I'd be reading them a story, and they're talking to the old lady. At first, I thought the old lady was simply kids being kids. How children imagine things that aren't there.
Then I saw the old lady; I'd broken up with my first love, and I was still weepy over the whole thing (really, when is a teenage girl *not* weepy over a boy?) and I was holding the littlest girl in my lap, smelling her hair, when the old lady appeared on the chair across from me. She had the saddest smile on her face, her eyes swallowed up by wrinkled skin. I almost dropped the little girl in fright, and the old woman disappeared. I never again sat in that chair.
My very first apartment, I had a girlfriend spend the night (we'd had fights with our mutual partners and were having a 'men are scum' night), and after we went to bed, neither of us could sleep. We lay in that queen size bed, on our bellies, with pillows tucked under us just right and snuggled together for maximum warmth. Just as we'd doze off, we'd be jolted away by an old woman who got a thrill out of seeing us jump. I swear, if a ghost could laugh out loud, she'd have been rolling around cackling like a crazed witch.
This same old woman would check on my neighbors daughter when she was sick. She'd rub my forehead when I had a headache. Not a real rub, and not on command, but when I would be truly ill and want only to pass out to get away from the ache, I'd feel her touch me between the eyes. It didn't make the pain go away, but it reminded me of when I was small, and I'd feel better.
In that same side, I've felt the angry presence of someone who would not rub my forehead when I was hurting. If they had the chance, I fully believe they'd have shoved a spike in my eye and called it a day. Vanishing pools of blood on my bedroom floor, the sensation that I was being choked when I was completely alone, and shadows moving around my bed at night that had me terrified enough I'd leave during the witching hour and sleep in my car.
Not everyone caught in that forever twilight was at peace with their leaving.
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6 comments:
Wow!!
Vanishing pools of blood would have me out of there really damn quick!
The blood was in my dorm room, I can see feel it sticky on my feet when I got out of bed. I slipped on it, fell into it, and came up covered in it. I ran next door, still in my nightshirt and boxers, and by the time I crossed the dozen or so yards between my dorm and the next, I was clean.
I moved dorms soon after.
*see should be "still"
One should not type while trying to scratch their nose.
The only odd thing that's ever happened to me was the overwhelming odor of roses in my truck at 3 a.m. when I was driving home and thinking about my Grandpa. I had to open the window.
I'll take that over blood pools or being touched any day!
Surreal - did you ever check out the history of that dorm room or building?
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