My Ghost Story

I posted this last Halloween on Daventry Blue. It got such a wonderful response there I thought I'd post it here:


Growing up a Jehovah's Witness, I was taught to believe there were no such thing as ghosts. Sure, there were demons acting on behalf of Satan to fuck with us. But ghosts? No. How silly! It didn't hit me until much later how ridiculous it was to believe in demons and angels and an almighty bogeyman yet to not believe in ghosts. I mean, if you're gonna go out on that particular limb, go all the way, right? It's the same issue I have with people who believe in God, but won't believe in aliens. But that's another blog post altogether.

There have been times in my life that I have distinctly felt the creeping presence of something supernatural. There was a time in Rome where I felt, for lack of a better word, possessed; there was a time in college, staying in the rack room of the Phi Delt fraternity completely alone, that I was certain I heard a woman singing right beside me; and, of course, there were my hospital visions in 2010, most of those, I believe, past life regressions. There have been around a dozen or so experiences like these in my life that have left me scratching my head.

The first one that I can recall - and it just recently occured to me after years of having shelved it away in some corner of my mind - happened when I was a child, around four or five years old. I was with the fam at a get-together across the river. A get-together with a bunch of other Jehovah's Witness families. Can you imagine? Oh, the comedy!

Anyway, it was an outdoor thing, but the house was huge and the children were allowed also to play in the basement. There was nothing creepy about the house or the basement, though living by the river offers its own special ambience. It was full of light. The house itself was actually newly built.

There were a lot of children there. Some of them I had never met before. There was one girl in particular around my age who I took an immediate liking to. I remember her take-charge attitude and long brown hair, though I can't remember her name. And I don't really remember playing with anyone but her while I was there. We played mostly outside on a hill above the house.

Well, we came back to the house when food was served. I went to eat with my family and, after I was finished, went searching for the girl again. She was sassy. I was shy. I guess she balanced me out. I didn't find her and so went inside the house to the basement to play with the other kids.

Suddenly, there was a commotion. We were told that this girl, my friend, had taken a tumble down some stairs and was in a bedroom resting. I was so worried. I don't remember precisely what happened next, but I do remember specifically standing at the bottom of the basement stairs and looking up at another girl on the landing. I shouted for her to tell my new injured friend that I loved her. (I know, right?) Well, then the strangest thing happened. My injured friend was told of my great and undying love and was brought to the top of the stairs to hear it for herself. (Very dramatic, I must say!)

But it wasn't her. It was a girl with long brown hair and the same name as the one I had been playing with, but the face wasn't hers. She, too, looked at me as if she had never seen me before. I kept insisting, No, not her! The other girl with the same name. But everyone said,Yes, this is the girl who fell. 

It was a disorienting experience. I don't remember anything about the get-together after that, but I do remember being quite irritated that someone had taken my new sassy friend away. I never saw her face again after that. I have been searching ever since...

Ha! Just kidding. I haven't been searching ever since. But it was a very weird experience for me.