writer's workshop: Seeing Ghosts

Ghosts are scary, you all!  Super scary.  Who knows if they are real or not?  Is it our minds trying to make images out of the background?  Are we wanting to see those things? 

The Brown Lady of Raynham Hall, England

I have a few stories that might be ghost related….

Back in late 2003 and early 2004, when I had a landline, I would receive phone calls.  The caller id showed up 000-000-0000 each and every time.  Sure, this had happened before, but mostly it just said Anonymous and didn’t show a number before.  It started after my grandmother had died.  That was August 16, 2003.  I started receiving the phone calls soon after that.  It started with just static.  Annoying static.  I didn’t stay on the line for long with those because I was just annoyed.  The static then turned to whispers that you couldn’t make out.  It was just the noise of talking in a soft voice.  I’m thinking “Who the heck is doing this to me?”   These calls came at all times during the day and night.  They didn’t have any rhyme or reason to them.  The night before Alli was born (September 15, 2003 is her birthday), I received yet another call.  This time I actually made out what was said.  I was so stunned; I dropped the phone and hung it up.  That’s when I made my guess on who was calling me.  The phone calls continued for around six months.  And they just stopped.

The second story relates to my grandmother too.  Fast forward to August of 2009…..we had Tanner’s birthday party that day!  His 10^th.  He had a skating party.  Friends and family came.  We had cake and pizza and all those things.  My mom had brought my niece, Scarlett and my sister, Lauren with her.  By brought, I mean rode in the same car together.  I sent Scarlett home with a balloon.  My mom stopped by the cemetery on the way home.  They got out, checked on my grandma’s headstone.  Made sure the flowers were okay.  When they got back in the car, Scarlett’s balloon was missing.  They figured it had just flown out of the car when they opened the doors and hadn’t noticed. 

I stopped by the cemetery the next day.  I found the balloon.  It was tied to the vase of a new grave behind my grandma’s.  Weird.  How did that even happen?  There is no logic to it.  The balloon would have went up and away.  Not down and across numerous headstones, then get tied to the one behind my grandmothers.

I do have one more story.  This happened when I first moved in somewhere.  Biggest mistake ever, but that’s not the point of this story.  I was sleeping one night.  I slept with the door open to the bedroom.  It was a small bedroom and I didn’t feel the need to feel like I was trapped.  I woke up.  Still groggy, I looked up and I thought I saw an elderly lady staring at me.   She turned around and walked away from the door.  Honestly, I thought I was still dreaming.  Maybe, I was. 

The next morning, Peyton asked me who the lady in the hallway last night was.