And some new ones.
When I died, I thought I'd spend my time haunting all the places that were significant to me in life. My old house, the place I died, things like that. And I did for a while, I guess, but it felt empty. Maybe that's how it's supposed to feel--I've never been a ghost before, I don't know--but I wasn't happy with it. I felt invisible. When my old loved ones called out my name at night, it wasn't because they wanted to talk to me. It was because they were afraid I was still there. They didn't whisper my name at night in hope but in dread. I was unwelcome in my own home. I guess being a ghost will do that to you.
I moved on. I started haunting other places, places I'd never been to. I'd find the biggest creepiest mansions and I'd haunt them until they'd start calling in paranormal experts of some variety or other. Some would come with their equipment and try to see if I was real, some would come with beads and candles and try to commune with me.
They wanted to see me. They wanted me to be real. They wanted to talk to me and know what I wanted. I'd try to play it up a little, give them a show where I could, and then they'd tell the residents what they thought. Sometimes they stayed and I moved on. Sometimes they'd flee and someone else would move in. I'd move on after that.
I started haunting abandoned places eventually, because I'd always felt at home there when I was alive--you're always at home in the places everyone forgot. Soon some of them became known as haunted, and they attracted some ghost hunters, trying to get a glimpse. One of them was a girl I'd seen before--she was with one of the paranormal teams that had found me a couple of times. She'd come to every place I was haunting.
At one of them--an old school--she said something to me. "We've met before, haven't we?" is what she said, and she smiled when she said it. "You really get around, don't you?"
It's hard to talk to the living, when you're a ghost. But she seemed content with my answer, and took some pictures and some readings and headed home. She went to the abandoned theatre I was haunting next and said "I wish I knew your story."
You and me both, kid.
20100919
my old haunts
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1 comment:
This story is haunting. Kathy
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