The heading of my blog was also a tweet I posted on Thursday night. It was a half joking, half totally serious holy shit there is a ghost in my house kind of tweet. I’ve never been a believer in ghosts or an afterlife but being by myself this weekend had me questioning every single spiritual belief I’ve ever had. I went from “Pfft, how can there be ghosts if souls aren’t real!” to “Dear father, please send the demon back to hell and away from me in this hour of need.”
It’s amazing what being along in an old house will do you to your psyche. Richard was away in California from Thursday to Sunday, so I was forced to see to the well being of my self and our two fur children. Every creak and whoosh of the wind had me whining and posting ridiculous tweets like “Ghosts aren’t real, right you guys?” Richard suggested I have Dexter and Andy be my guard pups, but that idea was doomed from the start. Dexter kept staring at the front door with the most serious look on his face, as if Jason himself was waiting for me on the other side, his machete at the ready. Needless to say my dogs slept with me while Richard was gone. I’d much rather have Dexter jumping off the bed every hour, disturbing my sleep than waking up to find a masked killer or tortured ghost chillin’ at the end of my bed. Watching many episodes of Supernatural probably didn’t help. Sam and Dean are much better at dealing with ghosts than I am. Instead of consulting a cool ghost-book written by my dad, I’d run to the couch and hide under blankets.
My scary weekend culminated with a possible ghost encounter on Saturday night. After celebrating my friend Aparna’s 29th birthday (Happy Birthday, Aparna!), I headed home to watch Supernatural (natch) and after putting my boys in their hoagies to dry off from a rainy backyard romp, I heard someone whisper “HEY!” loudly in my ear. I promptly freaked out and ran to the couch to text Richard and hope Jason didn’t sneak in the back door when I was handling my pups. After checking the closets and running up to my bedroom I was able to calm down but couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, whispered in my ear.
My friend Jordan says this was my first official ghost encounter, I’m reluctant to agree with her. I did a ghost tour of Mansfield Penitentiary in Ohio and didn’t hear any ghosts, why all of a sudden would one whisper “Hey!” in my hear?
So tell me dear readers, ghost aren’t real, right?