Well, since it’s Halloween, I thought I would regale you with a story that happened several years ago. I am already creeping myself out with this, but here is my story of the only time in my life when I have questioned if the supernatural ever exists.
My grandmother’s name was Mary. She is the most important person who has ever been a part of my life, even to this day. All that I am, I have gotten from her being a part of my life. She died when I was…well, I’m a little unsure. Every memory that I have pre-head injury is a little muddle. Well, a lot of memories, not all of them. Anyway, I was very young. I think it was when I was in fifth grade, but I’m unsure. Anyway, she died, and I felt the way everybody feels when somebody that they love dies. I was distraught. I was disheartened. I felt my world crumble around me, and I felt that I had no place in this world. Life seemed to have no meaning to me.
Well, that isn’t actually exactly how it is. For anybody who has had somebody close to them die, they know, that for the first couple of days, or even the first couple of weeks, it doesn’t feel real. It’s like that person could just walk into the room any second and say, “sorry, I stepped out for a while. Anybody miss me?” That was how it was. It was that big a thing. Anyway, I felt that way after she died. It didn’t feel real to me. Of course, I have never really understood exactly what it means for somebody to die, but that is a story for another day.
So, it was after her funeral, and everybody was kind of winding down. I went up to her room, and I walked inside. I saw that nothing had changed. It was a god-awful mess. That was how it always was. Mary could never keep a very neat andtidy home. Not that I remember, anyway. So I walk inside, and I look around. I am trying to understand, trying to bring myself to the understanding that she is actually dead. It is a bright and sunny day outside. Of course, the shades are still kind of drawn, so I can only see shafts of it entering the room. I walk around, looking at some of the various things.
There are her pill cases. She was old, after all, and all old people have those cases, with all the days of the week on them. They still had pills in them. There were her diabetes stuff, because she was diabetic. She lost a foot to that, and also to the fact that she didn’t especially take care of herself. I don’t judge. Anyway, as I am walking around the room, looking at things, I can feel that something isn’t right. The hair on my neck stands up. I feel shivers running all over me. I recognize the feeling. It is the feeling of being watched. My whole body is on edge. The urge to flee this room is running through me, and I am almost too stunned to move. The shivers are now running through me, as I can feel the force that is watching me getting closer.
I turn around suddenly, but there is nothing there. I want to scream, to run away, but something won’t let me. My legs don’t move. I suddenly fall backwards, onto the bed. I sit up suddenly, only to feel the force of a human hand on my back. I did scream. I screamed very loudly. I stood up, and for a split second, one of the shafts of sunlight actually was making a shadow. It was the shadow of a human being. I quickly leave the room, and since there was no door, I ran out of the house. After that day, I was never able to go back into that room again.
So, did a ghost really come to me? Was Mary in the room with me? I have no clue. To this day, part of me is just dismissing it as being just my nerves talking, abut there is another part of me that says that I was not alone in the room that day. Not alone with the dust, the clutter, and the sunlight. I have never, ever, experience terror like that, before or since. Do I believe in Ghosts? I don’t know. All I do know, is that that is an experience that I will always have with me. Always.
Until next time, a quote,
“When one has the feeling of dislike for evil, when one feels tranquil, one finds pleasure in listening to good teachings; when one has these feelings and appreciates them, one is free of fear.” -Buddha