Living with the (Un)living.

The first memory of my visitor was when I was around 12 or 13 years old.

suz and victoria

It was the middle of the night and I was happily asleep…perhaps dreaming of my boyfriend Scott Baio.

I was in such a deep sleep that it was a struggle to comprehend what I was hearing…it took a few minutes or seconds, I am not for sure.

Then my brain came out of the fog long enough to figure out what I was hearing.

It sounded like someone walking in our third floor hallway, where our three bedrooms were located.

My bedroom door was wide open, it always was.

I glanced in the direction of the hall from my bed, and could see nothing. It was dark, but I would surely see if someone was standing there.

I thought that maybe it was part of a dream.

I tried to go back to sleep, in a moment, I would realize that was futile.

There it is again…that sound of someone slowly creeping by my room, past my brothers room and towards Mom’s room.

Then the steps came back in the direction of my room.

And stopped.

What?

Who is that?

What is that?

I froze.

I stared at the black ceiling over my bed.

My brain was working overtime. Trying to digest this.

I could faintly hear my brothers stereo through the paper thin walls…at 16, he lived with his headphones on connected to his stereo, drowning out the world around him.

Gosh, how I wished it was him walking around in the middle of the night.

The steps then made the same path as before…passing Marks room towards Mom’s.

and then back.

And then, the creeping went down the stairs.

In this wood framed townhouse, you could hear every little creak and crack.

It went down the stairs slowly…then came back up.

It then made the same tracks up and down the hall but quicker now. Someone was in a hurry.

After a few more minutes, it descended the stair well again, but faster than the first time.

This was my chance. My chance for escape.

I grabbed my pillow.

I put my pillow over my face and ran out of my room to my Mom’s room, lucky that I did not run into a wall.

I made a huge leap into her king sized bed and thanked the good lord she was home this night.

I snuggled in close.

Mom was dead asleep.

Dead to the world and the happenings in our house.

But she was there.

26 thoughts on “Living with the (Un)living.

  1. Aha—that is who put all of that 'stuff' in your hall—just so you could stumble all over it (assuming they have followed you to the home you are in now)!!!!! Your \”Ghost Friends\” weren't very friendly this time, were they????? Think I'd rename them something other than CASPER… Bet they don't like those night-lights you have added… ha ha ha…..I've never 'felt'or 'seen' a ghost —but sometimes I think my mother is sitting on my shoulder–making sure I behave.Hugs,Betsy

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  2. Holy Cannoli Canoe!!! Oh my God Sue, this post put such a chill in my tummy. OHMYGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!!We come here for a laugh, to read your witty, captivating tales, and to learn how to be a little bit more like you. It's not even 7 am out here, I'm enjoying a cup of coffee and three pups, and I thought I'd catch up on my emails and blogs……then I read this!You better tell us this is a classic Stephen King-ish novel you've been secretly working on behind our backs. Ha ha ha!Did you see the Oprah episode this week where she interviewed the 4 child molesters. That's all I was thinking of the entire time I was reading. I know, just call me Debbie Downer. Sorry!In law school, the house I rented was literally next to and on a cemetery property lot. I loved it. I enjoyed the unliving visitors I sometimes thought would come over. But I'm thinking I was nutso. I cannot WAIT to read where this is going. Thanks Stephen! XOXO

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  3. Whoa! It's also the fantastic opening of a memoir. When you finish it and I get brave enough, I'll read it. Did this happen again? Do you know who it was? Was your mother being there this time significant? Okay, I am totally unnerved.

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  4. I felt someone touching my back while I laid in bed one time. I laid there frozen forever knowing that a alien was standing there prodding me. I finally had the courage to flip over and discover my pillow. It was a close encounter of the pillowy kind.

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  5. Sue that sounds spooky. I often see things moving and I feel things too like a sudden brush of wind like someone moved but no one is there but me and no draft from anywhere.You have won seeds on my blog. Email me your address.

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  6. Anonymous

    I almost missed this post, I'm trying to catch all I've missed. You know how I love a good true ghost story. When's the next installment of the your experiences with the visitor?Don't leave me hanging too long 😉

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  7. Oh my gosh. I am dying to know the end! I will be too scared to even think about it today. Jimminy Crickets.I don't want to do paperwork. I thought I could just click here quickly and then go back to real work but I can't. Help me.

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