So I’m at a local hang out spot, the kind of place that uprising musicians go to play, and hipsters, poets, and writers go with their laptops to work. I, of course, am one of those writers.
The lights are dim, and the quiet buzz of conversation is an underscore to the loud music that’s blasting through the speakers. I’m not paying attention to the music of course, nor am I listening in on the hazy, blurred voices.
I’m in my own head tonight, more so than usual. I’ve got to gather information about things of the paranormal nature, and I’m trying hard to figure out how to do this. Nonfiction is really not one of my good points.
I’ve dealt with ghosts, (I guess that’s what you’re supposed to call them…?). Seeing them is actually part of my everyday life, and I’ve communicated with a few before. It’s an exhausting thing to pull off, and I’m not exactly strong, I just don’t need to do it anymore.
So now I’ve got to turn to outside sources because honest to god, I am NOT an expert. I’ve heard plenty of little experiences, people feeling a weird presence or seeing movement out of the corner of their eye, but I don’t need the little things that probably aren’t paranormal at all. I need big, intensely detailed experiences that someone can look at the say “oh Jesus Christ that might have actually happened!”
Because this subject is a touchy one. It’s weird and there isn’t really a way to justify it with simple words, with no solid proof. And the last thing I need is for people to think that I’m making crap up.
~
My first thought is to turn to the internet. It’s pretty intense, the sheer number of stories people submit. And you get all kinds, too. Some beg for help, some just brag. You have your super religious people, and then the science geeks, and then a couple of confused ‘I don’t know what the hell is happening to me oh god somebody help’ types. And then you also have a few people like me who end up pestering the crap out of people in order to get better details.
The first thing I find is inaccurate bs. Swear to god, it’s an exact replica of a scene from some horror movie that I don’t remember the name of.
I skim through articles. Looking for details. Always looking for details.
Finally I find something that stands up and hits me in the face. A tiny little paragraph from Anonymous.
“It hits me at random intervals throughout the day. A song on the radio or an overheard conversation can set me off, keeping me constantly reminded of the fact that I can’t get away from them. I’m scared. I want to be normal, but they won’t leave me alone, they won’t stop following me.”
Now this is something new. Ghosts, haunting a person and not a house is pretty uncommon. Now don’t get me wrong, people who can SEE ghosts aren’t uncommon, but just because you can see them doesn’t mean they’re following you.
I skim some more.
Nothing- nothing- nothing.
I am starting to notice an odd pattern though.
The majority of a lot of the forums are female. I keep seeing things like,
“We figured whatever evil we had both experienced must have only liked females.”
And evil- evil keeps popping up. I’m seeing nothing about friendly ghosts. Harmless ghosts, yes. But positive words are almost never used (and I say almost because I did not read the entire internet, so I can’t say positive things were never said, etc, etc, why am I still talking).
This is starting to bother me just a bit.
~
Looking for information from random people on the internet clearly isn’t working, so I’m turning to a friend.
She’s been able to see ghosts for a pretty long time- ever since she was a small child.
She states, “I was really little when it first started. I remember faintly having ghostly looking people trying to talk to me when I was around two or three years old. I think the first clear memory was my grandfather talking to me two weeks after he died.”
She then proceeded to tell me all about what she’d seen. From mists, to shadow people, to clear apparitions, and “things that look oddly like angels”, I was impressed. But then she mentioned voices.
My curiosity? Yeah it just exploded.
“It's hard to remember what they say because I tend to block it out. Usually they try to start a conversation but considering I'm hardly ever alone in the house I don't respond much because I don't want to look insane. They tend to be male voices. They don't sound too old. Possibly mid-teens to early twenties? They have a charming tone to them, very polite and friendly, and I don't get any bad vibes from them.”
Now THIS was what I wanted. Perfection.
I kept chatting with her for a while, and finally I couldn’t help but ask.
“Do you have any specific experiences…?”
Heh, my thirst for experiences just never seems to be quenched!
“Lying in bed not being able to sleep and feeling my legs being touched. Both my parents were asleep, and it was clearly a human hand, though it was really cold. It reached over and fixed my blanket and I saw it out the corner of my eye.”
Clearly, personal interviews are the way to go.
I then went to my mother.
I could vaguely remember her telling me something about a creature on the floor with a grin, one night, and there were other stories, so I knew she had something that promised to be captivating up her sleeve.
We talked for what must have been an hour.
Everything was pretty average. Old house, was previously condemned, but she moved in anyway because she was attached to it or something, I didn’t really understand her logic but whatever. She’d been eyeing it for a while.
The house was a mess. Odd drawings, Latin words, and the numbers ‘666’ were scribbled in the closets. The house didn’t have air conditioning and the bathroom was filthy. It was obvious that someone had been squatting there for quite a while.
But she moved herself in anyway, and by the end of the day, she was exhausted. Since her bed wasn’t set up, she plopped down on the couch and fell asleep.
When she woke up, there was something on her floor, curled up, grinning at her. It’s mouth was horribly wide, full of spiky, yellow teeth- too many teeth for a normal human. It had a ruddy complexion like someone too mad for words, was about normal height, and was very, very thin. It’s arms and legs were wiry, but the area between it’s ribcage and it’s pelvis was sunken in.
“There was just no room for any organs.”
She was scared stiff, of course. The unadulterated terror in her eyes whined, begging me to shut up. It was obvious, just talking about it was setting her on a thin edge.
So we moved on. She talked about how a group of women came to ‘exorcise’ the house. They told her to get rid of all her Stephen King books, and some massage stones.
She eventually moved out, but the house still exists. Apparently it’s been remodeled, with hardwood floors and a better air conditioning, and is still out for rent.
~
I honestly don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier.
History.
This should be fun. Or maybe it’ll turn out to be boring, I have no idea.
Ahh, sweet internet. We meet again.
I’m pretty skeptical about googling ghost history- or anything ghost related, really. Some of the websites are cheesy as hell and I can deal with that, but some have TERRIFYING videos that play as soon as the page loads.
And then you end up falling out of your chair and landing on your butt, flailing your arms and screaming “OH GOD TURN IT OFF.”
Er…
ANYWAY…
There’s this popular belief that ghosts are pretty much made out of mist- or fog. Which makes sense, seeing as most cultures/people believe that the ghost is the actual SOUL of a person- because when we exhale in the cold it’s all foggy and in the Bible, god gave life to Adam by… um… breathing on him.
Well that isn’t weird at all.
Most of the information I’m finding has to do with different religions, understandably. And hey guess what, the only religion that doesn’t really mention ghosts is Christianity!
As for cultures, every single one, from Egypt to Mexico, mentions them. Most depict them as being evil, demons or vengeful souls (why am I not surprised). In Japanese culture, ghosts are thought to be souls kept from a peaceful afterlife by some unresolved conflict in their life.
Eh.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
~
Okay, okay.
I’m trying pretty hard to write this essay the right way. But it’s not what I had originally planned it to be. It’s changed and evolved into something different and you know what? I am okay with this.
Now before I go any further I just want to say that I actually had something completely different written here originally, but honestly, it just wasn’t accurate.
So instead of some random crap that I’d guessed at, I’m gonna tell you what I just did.
Back on topic: It’s Sunday night. About 2 hours ago, I threw down my notebook in disgust.
I was bored with hearing about what other people have been through. Sick and tired and bored of reading about religion and how the cultures depict ghosts (there’s rarely that much of a difference…).
I’d been thinking about contacting a ghost all week. It is simply the easiest way to get information.
But the thing is, I didn’t want to get a bad grade on this just because nobody would believe me. So I didn’t.
But on Sunday night, I read over this thing, and I hated it. It was boring. Horribly so. And I would rather fail this assignment than write something boring.
I won’t sit here, knowing I could be getting some bloody answers.
I’m diving in.
In order to ‘summon’ (I’m going to use a lot of sketchy words like that, and I apologize. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to call this stuff) a ghost, you have to open yourself up, mentally. This is done by ‘triggering’ yourself. Triggers are things that set your mind frame. There are triggers to inspire you, triggers that make you paranoid, triggers that turn you on, triggers that pull you from the spiritual world into the real one, there are triggers for everything.
For me, the trigger that lets my mind loose is a certain song. It enhances my senses- all of them, quite a bit.
After triggering myself, I whispered, “lights out,” the first thing that came into my head. There’s really no way to know what a ghost/spirit’s triggers are, so I just had to say things, hoping that something would work.
Fortunately, ‘lights out’ had perfect results.
Instantly, a smell vaguely reminiscent of dirt filled my nose, and those delicious chills ran up my spine. I couldn’t see anything, but the area in front of me seemed slightly warped, as if it was a smudged watercolor. It was a barely noticeable thing, easy to overlook and even easier to pretend it was just imagination.
If my experiences with these things (ghosts. I really hate calling them ghosts though) has taught me one thing, it’s that any ghost will waste no time in possessing someone who’s mind is open, since they’re unable to occupy anyone who isn’t open.
You’re probably wondering why they’d take over anyone in the first place, and I can actually answer that question.
Being in the physical world without a body is terrifying. Frustrating. Painfully so.
So anyway, I only had to wait about 4 seconds before I felt an odd weight on my chest, as if something was pressing down on it.
Possession can go two ways. 1: you can lose control of your body and/or mind, or 2: nothing happens because you’re able to keep control.
Having done this multiple times, I was able to keep a good hold on everything, and within minutes I’d established a pretty good way to communicate: I’d type something, then let the ghost have control of my hands to reply, then I’d take over once again. Wash, rinse, repeat.
My first question?
“Why are you.”
There was no response. I waited, but there was nothing. I asked again and again, wording it differently in hopes of getting it to understand.
“What are you.”
“How are you.”
Nothing. Not even when I tried other languages- there was no response whatsoever.
And man, was I pissed. I started ranting, typing at the speed of light in all caps. Insults and accusations flew by.
But that burst of energy was short lived. Keeping control is strenuous work- I don’t know why, it just is- and I found myself slipping up, letting the spirit reign free.
And then my hands moved.
‘we have jumped from the roof, screaming “VIVA DISCORDIA.”’
There was a long pause that lasted several minutes.
‘when incomprehension fills our mind what else is there to do but give in to chaos.
we won’t respond to answerless questions.’
I quickly mumbled the dismissing trigger.
~
I don’t really know what the ‘deeper meaning’ or the ‘lesson’ or the ‘connection to real life’ or whatever it’s called is. On my planning sheet, I wrote ‘help people not be afraid of ghosts’ but honestly that’s just inaccurate. I don’t know why the hell I was thinking or even what that means. But, I figure there are a lot of things wrong with this essay, I mean good god I wrote most of it on a tiny scrap of notebook paper in the bathtub. It was doomed from the start.
And a lot of my research wasn’t, looking stuff up on the internet, it was going outside and getting some goddamn answers- or hunting for them, since I didn’t really GET any answers. I went looking for ghosts and I found some. Stuff happened. I am a lot smarter than I was before.
Okay you want a morale/deeper meaning/life message for this essay? Here. Here have a message: Writing is a bitch and it usually doesn’t go as planned. Also, if you want good, accurate information you have to get out and find it.
Just kidding.
I think it’s human nature to be pretty scared of things we don’t understand. The unknown. Most fears branch off of death, pain, or the unknown. And whether that’s not knowing why you got a bad grade on a test (that’s not the best example but I think you get the point) or why there are weird, inhuman things in your house is your own business, but maybe, just maybe, by realizing that life doesn’t make sense, that sometimes things happen and we don’t know why, sometimes there isn’t an answer for everything, and sometimes there isn’t a clear reason or purpose, we can demolish that fear. We could devour it in a single bite and take away half the world’s problems in a singular instant.
I think that’d be a nice change.
Don’t you?
Gender:
Points: 928
Reviews: 5