My Resident Ghost

After Jean’s blog yesterday, I have been thinking of all the times I have truly been scared in my life and, you know, it hasn’t been that many. Oh there have been health scares and emotional scares but nothing on the order of being so afraid that I have to cover my head with the sheets, afraid to look out into the darkness of my bedroom.

I have lived in this house for nearly thirteen years and have never been afraid to be alone here. My husband works odd hours and frequently I have been here without any one except the dogs and cats. I probably should be afraid because I have a ghost who shares this house with us.

We built this house and no one has ever lived in it before us. The land where it’s built used to be farmed and to the knowledge of the old-timers around here, there has never been a house on this spot. I have no clue why he just showed up one day but he did. I say “he” because I have caught glimpses of him moving back and forth from my husband’s closet to my closet or moving down the back hallway in the middle of the night. He’s short, like me and slight of build, usually dressed in older clothes, maybe the early 1900’s. If he notices that I see him, he simply dissolves. The first few times I happen to see him I thought I was imagining it, then I actually came face-to-face with him in my bedroom. He wore a shocked expression and simply faded into my husband’s closet. The Doberman and one of the cats immediately went into the closet, both of them growling. The cat stayed there all night, refusing to budge one inch. I finally removed the cat and promised the little guy that the cat didn’t mean anything (sounds a bit crazy writing this but I do talk to him).

Most people enter this house unnoticed by him. He makes no move against people, seemingly content to simply wander. He bothers no one except for my new housekeeper. The first time she entered the study and I was explaining what I wanted her to do in there, dusting etc., a book from across the room came flying off the shelf and hit her squarely in the back. We both looked at each other, surprised, and quickly left the room. She still refuses to go into the study to this day. I grumble at him for making me dust all those books.

I have also noticed that he seems to get agitated if there is conflict in the house. If I have an argument with my husband you can bet your last dollar that something of mine is going to end up missing the next day if I started the argument. If my husband started it, he loses something. I guess the little guy doesn’t like drama. We laugh about it but it can be quite annoying. The last thing he took was all of my eyeliner pencils. Odd things to take but he did. It was exasperating when I started to put on my make-up and they weren’t there. I patiently explained to empty air that we aren’t mad, just having a discussion. Usually, within a couple of weeks, things that were taken will come back but not in the place where they belong (I have bought all new eyeliner pencils because the old ones haven’t appeared yet; I’m still waiting). One particular incident that I still think about is the back of an earring that belonged to my husband’s grandmother. It is very unusual and ornate. I was putting the earrings on in a hurry and dropped it. I know where the dang thing hit and bent over to pick it up but it wasn’t there. I searched and searched but no earring back. My husband and I continued to search, even emptying the vacuum cleaner bag after we vacuumed the entire area. Nothing. About two months later I was getting dressed and walked into the bedroom. There sitting in the middle of my dresser was the earring back. It hadn’t been there a few minutes before. I profusely thanked the little guy for returning it; thankful that I didn’t have to have one made to match the other earring back.

A lot of people ask my why I don’t ask him to leave or force him to leave. Well, he isn’t bothering anyone except for the little items, like keys or make-up that he takes. Why would I? I find the whole thing interesting.

Do you believe in ghosts? What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever experienced, paranormal or not? Would you be afraid to share a house with a ghost?