Lately I've been feeling sort of heeby-jeeby like, and I can't quite figure out why. Maybe it's the fours (see previous post) Maybe it's that I keep seeing things out of the corner of my eye, and when I turn to look, there's nothing there. Maybe it's because I've moved back into my house, which was originally my grandparent's house, and it used to be very haunted.
Ghosts... I know. Sigh. People who haven't experienced them just plain and simply don't believe in them. But people who have had experiences, seen and felt them, have no other option but to believe. It's just a fact of life. Ghosts exist. Just like oak trees and angel fish and the Grand Canyon.
My house is currently not haunted. As far as I know. It used to be a large farmhouse when my grandparents were raising my dad and my two aunts, and they all have amazingly creepy stories to tell. Most things happened upstairs, which eventually caught on fire so they removed the whole 2nd floor. All haunting stopped the moment the upstairs was removed. But before that the house would shake and they'd hear thunder, but there was no storm outside. Cabinet doors would slam shut on their own. They'd constantly hear static and random voices that sounded like they were coming through over a radio. They heard running, but they were hooves and sounded like they had 4 legs. My dad came home late one night, and standing on the staircase was a woman in a long flowing dress with long flowing hair. Her face was a skull. (Cliche, I know. But my dad is not crazy and stands by his story) He was so used to everything, he just walked past her and went to bed.
Adding to that is the woods across the street, where it's said that 4 or 5 people have died. A guy hung himself, a kid crashed his motorcycle, a tractor tipped over killing a man, a car accident. While waiting for the bus on an early dark morning when I was 8, a huge dark figure came out of that woods and chased me back into the house. My cousin was there as well, and she was 11. We both still remember it clearly.
Now, living there again, when I go outside at night I avoid looking at those trees at all costs. I become afraid of the dark for an instant, at 26 years old. I work nights. I go grocery shopping at 2am. I take outside smoke breaks alone at all hours of the night. I normally love the dark, the moon, the stars. But living back there, I become 8 again.
Anyway, all of this wouldn't make me a true believer in life after death. It's all just stories passed on to me, and one weird thing when I was in second grade. But I have a story I can't deny and affected me directly. And that's what made ghosts my Grand Canyon.
I'll continue later...