Ghost Stories

The Ghost I Know

The Ghost Attic

The Ghost I Know

By Sonya Robinson

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This is the truth. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.  Spit in my hand and….never mind, that’s gross.

I am 65 years old, and a recent widow.  I’ve known for some time that there is a ghost (or ghosts) in my house. We moved into the house in September of ’91.  It has 3 bedrooms (4 if you count the little room in the basement), and a full finished basement.  We used the basement as a library and family/play room.

The second week we were here, my little girl of four years and I were downstairs in the family room watching children’s programs.  We heard footsteps in the hall upstairs, going toward the bedrooms.  She asked, “Who is that?  I told her maybe it was her dad coming home early.

Easing my way up the switchback stairs and calling “Hello?” I got no answer.  I slipped through the hallway, checking the girls’ rooms and finally the master bedroom   No one.  And the front and back doors were locked.  I told my daughter that it was “pipes cooling off”, and she was okay with that.

Our cat, Squirt, liked to stretch out in the hall in such a way that everyone had to step over him.  He loved to reach up and grab at our feet as he flipped to his other side.  One night at supper, I watched him where he lay in the hall, facing away from me.  Suddenly, his ears perked up, and then he rolled to his back, pawing at feet I couldn’t see as they went over him.  He seemed to be watching someone continue toward the kitchen.  A couple of minutes later, he repeated his performance, flipping the other way, ears perked as he watched an invisible someone go back down the hall.

My son chose the small, windowless corner room in the basement for his bedroom. For once, he could have the total dark to sleep in.  About two weeks after the first incident, he came up the steps looking just a little puzzled.
“I thought Squirt was in the library, but he vanished when I turned the light on.” He further explained that he’d seen a small, dark something on the floor a couple of feet from his bedroom door, in the dim light from the stairwell window.  Once he saw a basketball-sized orb float through the patio door, around the living room furniture, and through the closed hall door.  As he was on his way to the bathroom, he finally went through the door.  No orb.  He told me about it the next morning.

“I think we’re haunted,” I said.  My son and I were actually a bit pleased.  No one else was.

One time, while sitting at the kitchen table reading, I heard noises in the laundry room/pantry, which is next to the kitchen.  I turned enough to see into the room, and my older daughter was in there.  I figured she was looking for something. After a bit, I asked her if she couldn’t find what she was looking for.  The only problem was, she was at the other end of the house in her room, and no one was in the laundry room.

Now that everyone is gone but myself and five cats, we have an agreement, Ghost and I.  No scaring the living daylights out of me and no burning sage in the house on my part.  I may have to re-think that.

My bed is queen-sized, plenty of room for me and one or two cats. The room is dimly lit by a small night light so I don’t have to turn on a light if I have to get up in the middle of the night.  I have poor eyesight without my glasses, which I always put on the night stand.

That Friday night, I dressed in my favorite knee-length night shirt, with just a sheet over me, slightly curled up on my left side, burrowed my head in my pillow, and sleep overtook me.  Sorrow joined me, curling up in front of me.  Smudge was snoring on my husband’s dresser.

A rather oddball dream woke me.  Lifting my head a bit, the red numbers on the radio clock were visible.  12:04 AM.  I settled back down to deconstruct the dream. As I was thinking through the bits and pieces, it suddenly felt as if the sheet was being slowly pulled down.  My legs were bare, and I could feel the sheet slide ever so slightly.

“Ghost is putting one over on me,” I thought.

Then, there was a slight pressure on my feet, pushing them down.  “Not good,” went through my mind.  The pressure spread slowly upward.  There was a tingling sensation in my legs, as if they were hooked to an electrical nerve stimulator.  I didn’t feel as if I could move them, was kind of afraid to try.  I had that feeling you get watching horror movies, when you know the monster is right around the corner, about to jump out.  All goose bumps.

Gradually the feeling eased up over my knees.  It felt like one of those lead blankets they put over the parts of you they don’t want exposed to x-rays.  The air seemed to be heavy and thick.  My breathing was deep and rapid and my heart was pounding.  All I could see was the dimness, the blurry shadows cast by the tiny nightlight.  I could hear Smudge’s small snores as he slept on.

The pressure and tingling crept to my waist.  Every muscle in my body had tensed without my willing it.  I had the distinct impression that, if I didn’t do something, it would take my whole body.  I couldn’t move, so I did the next best thing.

One deep breath: “Quit it.”  My voice was hoarse, unrecognizable to me.
Another deep breath:  The sensations had stopped creeping, but the ‘lead blanket’ and tingling were still there, seemingly waiting for me to give in.
A third deep breath:  “Quit it!  NOW!”

The sensation slowly crept back down, ……and was gone.  My muscles relaxed and, when I spoke to Sorrow, it was in my voice. One little part of me wanted to pull the sheet over my head and wait for dawn.  The bigger part of me slapped it, moved Sorrow, and got up to check the house (with a quick stop in the bathroom).  All was well. Except when I got back in bed, I checked the clock again. 2:24 AM.  I know it had read just past midnight when I woke from the dream, because I remember thinking “6 more hours of sleep”.

And the whole thing only seemed to last a few minutes. As an after effect, my right shoulder, elbow, hip, knee, and ankle ached for three days, along with a headache in the right side of my head.

Let’s not meet like that again, Ghost!

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