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A Ghostly Wake-Up Call

Ghosts. Do you believe in ghosts? I suppose I have never given it much thought to be honest, even though a part of me has always found the idea of ghosts quite exciting. I will admit that I have had a few strange things happen to me that I haven’t been able to explain, so who knows, perhaps ghosts do exist. I was out playing with a friend once when I was around 8, I remember, and that is the first time I saw something that I haven’t been able to forget since. We were in the woods next to my house, digging for bugs next to a small creek. There were no roads leading out there, not even walking paths or trails, but instead you had to walk through quite difficult terrain in order to reach what we called our “secret” spot. I was sitting there on the ground when something made me look up, and to my surprise I saw an old man with a walker standing a few yards from us. He didn’t look at us, but more as if he was on his way to somewhere and as if he hadn’t noticed that we were there. I was little, but I still found it strange that a man who couldn’t even walk up-right and who needed a walker had managed to get out to where we were. I turned around to tell my friend and when I turned back… – he was gone! There was no trace of him. How could an old man with a walker disappear so fast? I convinced myself that I must have imagined, which perhaps I did, but I never managed to fully forget it.

The next thing I can remember happened a few years later. I was in my room, reading, when suddenly I felt someone putting a hand on my shoulder. It sounds riddiculous, believe me, I know. It wasn’t as if someone had just touched it either, but more like this someone had put their hand on my shoulder and squeezed it… kind of the way an old grandma might do, or a grandpa… an old man. That time I got scared, for real, because there was no one there when I turned around.

Those events are warm-ups for what I am about to tell you. Several other things have happened throughout the years (slamming doors, water taps that turn on by themselves…) but nothing quite like this. I lived in Mexico at the time, and I was in my room sleeping when something woke me up. I opened my eyes and the second that I did – I froze. Someone was standing at the bottom of my bed. A young woman, with long dark hair covering her face, who was smoking and typing on a cellphone. I stared at her in disbelief. A million things went through my head. Had there been a party at my house that I had somehow missed? Was this a lost party guest? Was it one of my roommate’s friends? What was she doing in my room? It was impossible. Whoever she was… she wasn’t supposed to be there. The seconds felt like minutes, I wanted to scream out loud, but I couldn’t. I just sat there in my bed. Frozen. Staring at her. Then, right there in front of my eyes, she started to disappear. Before I knew it, this “she” was nothing more than a shadow on the wall. “Wow,” I thought, “I must be really crazy.” I figured I must have somehow been only half-awake, so I convinced myself I had imagined the whole thing. Ghosts don’t smoke and text, do they?

…It didn’t end there, however. I never told anyone about what I had seen and to be honest – I forgot about it. It was stupid anyway. Then something odd happened. I came home one night after having gone to the movies with my friend, and my roommate met me at the door. She looked seriously freaked out and I asked her what had happened. “Were you out all night..?” She looked at me. I told her that yes, I had been out since late afternoon. Her face went white. She explained to me that she and her boyfriend had been studying in the kitchen when they had suddenly started to hear voices coming from somewhere in the house. My roommate had gotten scared, but her boyfriend had said that it must be me talking in my room. “She’s not here,” my roommate had said, since she had seen me leave earlier, but the boyfriend had refused to believe her. “I can clearly hear someone talking,” he had said, “she has to be here”. They had walked over to my room, but by the time they got to the door – the voice had gone silent. They could however hear the clicking sounds of someone typing on an older cellphone…

When my roommate told me that, I remembered my “ghost.” The women who had been in my room that morning, smoking, and typing on a cellphone. The hairs in the back of my neck stood up at that point, let me tell you, and my roommate looked like she was about to pass out when I told her. Now, I don’t know what to make of this. Any of these two happenings – had they happened separately – could have been explained. It is however very strange, if you ask me, that I had some kind of a “dream” about someone typing on a cellphone, and only a few days later my roommate heard the same thing. …Coming from inside of my room.┬áStrange coincidence, don’t you think?

After all this – yes, I think I do believe in ghosts. I don’t mind them, but I mind them waking me up AND smoking in my room. Gosh. Is it too much to ask to have them take their smoking outside (or at least to the window)?


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