Beth’s post today reminded me of a few of my ghost stories.

Tale Number One

Back in the 8o’s (I think I was 16 or 17?), my mother and sister were both out for the evening and I was home by myself. I was in my room, about ready to go bed.

Suddenly, my room becomes extremely cold. Freezing. And this coldness is emanating from the corner of my room. Now, this is during the summer, so that’s a bit odd that it should be so cold and that I should be overwhelmed with this feeling of despair.

The phone rings. It’s my mother. I tell her I am seriously freaked out. She asks me if I want her to come home. No. I am an adult (ha!), I can take care of myself. I do say “Can I bring the dogs and cats into the room with me?” We normally kept our two dogs kennelled at night. She says “If you can get them to stay with you without fighting, sure.”

I herd the animals into my bedroom. There is Maime, the basset hound with a serious attitude problem (possibly beaten as a puppy, hates everyone but family), Muffin, the cocker spaniel/poodle mix (or cockapoo, which is probably the dumbest name for a dog breed. Almost as dumb as the name Muffin (and we didn’t name either, they were adopted and came with the names). Then there are the cats, Kitty (also adopted, real name Buttons. But she loved to be called Kitty and she loved me and would lie there when I sobbed into her fur because of my life being so pathetic and miserable) and Clyde (followed Kari and I home from church one day. I used to get this subscription to Bread for Children, some religious magazine. The editor’s husband, Clyde, had recently died so I named Clyde for him). Now, normally, the cats and dogs will fight like, well, cats and dogs. But they didn’t this night.

Kitty lies at the top of the bed, on my pillow. Clyde curls up by my feet. Maime lies on my left, Muffin on my right. They all start staring off into the corner. It gets colder. Maime starts to growl. I am so scared and I don’t know why. I start to say The Lord’s Prayer and the 23rd Psalm over and over again. I was a recently confirmed Lutheran and might even have thrown in the Apostle’s Creed and the Nicene Creed in there as well.

The air, once so cold, suddenly started to get warmer. It was like standing near a fireplace. I could feel the heat rush through the coldness. I look at Muffin. She had been hiding behind me and now, was standing up, staring into the corner. She turned and looked at me and I swear that she was smiling at me. Beaming. I know it sounds crazy.

I don’t know what caused this, the cold and then the heat. I only know that the dogs and cats were still lying in the room when my mom came home the next morning. And I put my confirmation cross in that corner shortly after that. Nothing like this ever happened again at the house. Well, unless you count the scary woman in the basement.

Tale Number Two

My former roommate, Anya, and I shared an apartment in North Saint Paul. One night, after watching some movies, Anya decided she was tired and went off to her room. I stayed in the living room to watch another movie. About an hour into the movie I saw someone, out of the corner of my eye, walk across the hall and into the bathroom. Then I heard the water running. This happens a few more times. Each time, I would not turn around and look. I kept staring straight ahead, at the television. Normally, if my roommate would walk out of her room that many times, I would have said something to her. But I don’t.

When I go off to my room, I notice that her door is shut. This is weird. I don’t remember hearing her shut the door but chalk it up to being caught up in the movie.

The next morning, Anya asks me “Why did you shut my window last night?”

“What? What are you talking about?” I reply.

She tells me that, right before she fell asleep, she saw someone standing in her doorway. She closed her eyes for some reason but just assumed it was me. Then she felt the person walk into her room and stand next to her bed. She still wouldn’t open her eyes. The person, supposedly me, leans over her and closes the window directly over her bed, leaving only one window open.

“Huh,” I say, ever so articulate. “I suppose you weren’t walking back and forth from the bathroom last night?” I explain how I saw someone out of the corner of my eye but wouldn’t look to confirm that it was Anya.

“No. I didn’t. I closed my door and went to sleep.”

“Well, I guess we have a ghost. One who likes to run water and make sure you don’t catch a cold.”

Previous comments

At 12:12 AM, The Lioness said…

My life is boring. BH!

At 10:29 PM, Anonymous said…

Katie

I have a couple of scary stories that I can bore you with. I love scary stories!

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