You know that feeling you get when you’re being watched? You don’t see them, but for some reason your body just knows. It somehow senses it? For those who subscribe one hundred percent to common sense, it makes no sense. No sense at all. It’s an extra perception. It shouldn’t be possible. And yet millions experience it every day.
That early morning, before dawn, I felt it in my room as I pulled the covers up over my head and wished I could melt into the mattress. I hoped it would go away. I didn’t like the feeling of unease it created and wanted to run across the house to my parent’s room. But that would mean I’d have to go past whatever lurked nearby in the shadowy hallway and I wasn’t especially keen on that idea.
Maybe if I lay perfectly still long enough, whoever or whatever it was would think I was gone. That’s how silly my mind worked at the young and inexperienced age of seven. I hadn’t learned yet. I didn’t know – this was my first. But I was naive enough to think it might work and so I remained camouflaged beneath my covers ’till the color began to lighten through my sheets, a clear sign that the sun was shining through my window.
Sounds from the kitchen signaled that my mother was up and would soon be coming to rouse me for school. Surely it had to be all clear by now. I had waited out the uncomfortable trespasser and my domain was once again safe. Slowly pushing back the sheets, I raise my eyes to the doorway, suddenly transfixed by what I see. My breath catches and I am frozen, unable to move a muscle.
Standing there staring back at me is a man, but not a man. He wavers in color completely transparent. And yet these are not the oddest things about him. The thing that imprints the heaviest on my young mind is the fact that he is standing on the ceiling. He is completely upside down! As if gravity is completely reversed in his world.
Calls from my mother in the kitchen grab his attention and he looks down the hall in her direction. Slowly he turns giving me one last look before disappearing from my view. I remain frozen on my bed with fright until my mother appears in the doorway wondering why I don’t already have my gears in motion.
I never forgot that day. It is forever seared in my memory. Tell me, did this event truly take place or is it merely the work of a child’s overactive imagination?
Here are a few things to ponder when making your consideration: Next to my room was a room my father used as an office. It was always colder than the rest of the house. In this room my father had taken the closet doors off the track and left them propped against the wall. When I asked him why he had done so he said, “The doors kept opening and shutting all day and night.” Later I learned my mother had the house blessed to rid it of any unsettled spirits.
So I am left to wonder, was the man on the ceiling real? What do you think? Do you believe in ghosts? Do you have any ghost stories of your own you care to share? Any unexplained bumps in the night? Don’t be shy. We would love to hear it all! It’s Halloween after all, and it’s ghost story time around our internet campfire.