Who ya gonna call?
Gather 'round the campfire, kids, and hand me that flashlight so I can hold it below my chin for eerie effect. I have a ghost story. I would not usually post about something this silly, unless I was thoroughly creeped out about it. And I am.
I must begin this tale with a little exposition. You see, last night I went to bed a little early and did some reading in preparation for my upcoming teaching gig. I fell asleep with the lamp next to my bed still on, and the window in my room wide open, blinds and all. The part about the window and the blinds will be an important plot point later. Take note.
Nothing weird about any of that, I know. Normal night.
My mother leaves for work at about 6 a.m. every day. She always pulls the car out into the driveway, leaves it running while she grabs her coffee and what not, and then leaves. This morning, when she slammed the car door shut and pulled out of the drive, the noise startled me awake. Realizing that I left my lamp on, I leaned over to flick it off, never getting out of bed. I repeat, never getting out of bed.
I rolled over and attempted to fall back asleep. My phone rings. It's Mom. She surely saw me turn my light off and would know that I was awake, so I thought maybe she was having trouble getting our consistently malfunctioning garage door to shut. She probably wanted me to get up and shut it from inside. Grumbling and sleepy, I grabbed my phone off the bedside table.
"What?" I groggily growled.
"What are you doing in your room?" She asked.
"Um. Sleeping? I just woke up when you left, and I had to shut my light off."
"Because I fell asleep with it on last night?" At this point, I'm a little confused and upset that I was not notified about this morning's quiz.
"Oh, okay. I saw you shut the light off. But I was wondering why you got up after that, opened your blinds, and stared out at me in the driveway like a creeper."
"Um. No. I didn't."
Refer back to your notes. Recall that I did not ever get out of bed. I realize that I had just woken up. I promise, though, that I was lucid enough to know that I never got out of my bed.
I pulled my covers up to my chin and stared around my room. I watch a lot Ghost Hunters, and I started to run through all that the guys from TAPS have taught me. Was there paranormal activity going on in my very bedroom?
Now, I fancy myself a skeptic when it comes to this stuff. I don't necessarily believe that there are beings beyond the living in this world, but I don't not believe it either. There have been a couple of instances in my own life--to summarize, weird and unexplainable things have happened surrounding the deaths of loved ones--that have made me wonder.Those instances are ones that I have often found slightly comforting, thinking that those I've loved who are no longer with me in person might have stuck around in spirit for a little while, like they were saying goodbye. There have also been weird and unexplainable happenings that have made me uncomfortable. Say, the shadow thing that I've seen at night creepily sliding along the walls in the darkened hallways of almost every place I've ever called home, for example. Or the strange stories that my parents used to tell me about the hundred-year-old house that we lived in when I was born. I guess I've chosen to stake some belief in the things that don't make my skin crawl and to dismiss the things that have. If it creeps me out, and I can't prove it wasn't something scary, I'd rather pretend it didn't happen.
But, dude. In. My. Bedroom. In MY bedroom? Eff that noise.