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THE WINDOW - (Chap. 5) - The great ghost story write offOct 26 '04 (Updated Oct 28 '04) Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line Don't be afraid. There are no such things as ghosts....are there?
I don’t know why I was chosen to receive the brunt of George’s terrorizing antics, but for the most part, and much to my relief, he left my boys alone. I’m not saying that they were completely immune or isolated from or totally ignored by his haunting activities, but at least, the magnitude of our problems was projected in my direction. That’s not saying I liked or enjoyed being haunted. I didn’t! What I wanted most of all, was for my sons to be spared as much fear and torment as possible. The night terrors that invaded my sons’ sleep several times during the past weeks, began to wane. They were also less intense. Mine, however, increased – and not just in frequency. Sometimes, they were so vivid, it was difficult separating fact from fiction. Another change was the context of the dreams. Seldom did I dream where my sons were hurt. Seldom were the dreams that held the feelings of inadequacy and helplessness. Seldom did I wake wondering if my boys were alive and healthy. Those dreams never stopped completely but now the subject matter varied and created such horrific visions that sleep was a thing I no longer wanted to do – especially since, except for my sons, I was the only living person in the house. Yes, as I said, I did, on occasion, dream of my sons being hurt, but those dreams could, in no way, be compared to the torment I began to experience. One such dream, at least I’m still hoping it was a dream, occurred several months after my so-called confrontation with my spirit. I dreamt I was standing in my tub, the water from my shower-head briskly and refreshingly hit and bounced off my skin, when suddenly, from behind, someone grabbed me around my throat and began to squeeze. I tried to scream, but found my voice gone. I twisted and turned violently as I felt my life slipping away. Thankfully and very conveniently in my dream, because I was covered with soap, I was able to free myself from my captor and stumble out of the tub. Then I awoke. This dream might seem like the normal type of nightmare one would have after watching a horror film but I didn’t watch a horror film before going to bed. While in bed, I was IN the horror film. In the still grogginess of my sleep, the realness of the dream had me trembling. However, it became even more frightening when I was fully awake. Although I was still in bed, I realized I was completely soaked! Not just damp as if I’d worked up a sweat from a vigorous workout. Nor was I just damp from awaking in a fear-induced, cold sweat. I was 100% sopping wet! I got out of bed to change the sheets and to put on dry pajamas. Thankfully the mattress wasn’t too saturated. It was then, as I took my pajama top off, I glanced in the mirror and noticed the large round purplish bruises around my neck. They resembled marks that might easily be mistaken as fingerprints. It has become known through many recent studies, there are some sleep disorders where the dreamer gets so physically violent that he will actually induce bruises on his own body. This being true, however, does not explain how I ended up soaking wet – or how the floor in the bathroom was slimy with drying soap scum. Did I walk in my sleep? Maybe but then, why didn’t the shower awaken me? As the months elapsed, I couldn’t decide if I was more afraid staying awake listening to whatever sounds the night might make or going to sleep and risk the undeniable, unfortunate invasion of a dream. Nevertheless, the choice was not mine to make. It happened again, about four months later. The day seemed pleasant enough; everything in the house was quiet and tranquil. Finally! Although doing the laundry was a chore I still did not enjoy, I decided that since the night was progressing as peacefully as the day, I’d take advantage of the situation. As I began my heart-pounding descent into the basement, I called out, as my new,usual habit indicated, in a loud and hopefully, happy-sounding voice, “Hi George. I’m back with some more laundry. Hope you don’t mind.” Mind? Maybe I lost mine! Calling out to a … whatever it was began seeming not so normal to me. Yet, I was relieved when I didn’t get an answer I really didn’t want to hear. What I did get was an icy cold gust of wind that blew past me as I walked toward the washer. I mustered up some false courage. “Oh, hi George, “ I said as I turned to face the wind. “I won’t be long. There are just a few thins I need to wash. You know how it is,” I said trying to make my voice sound as normal as possible. I pushed the start button and as the water gushed into the machine, I quickly added the detergent and a mound of clothes. Then, while my heart still pounded, made a hurried exit from the cold basement wishing I didn’t have to make a return trip to the dryer. Later, after the clothes were dried, I breathed a sigh of relief. Except for the cold wind, nothing happened. Good, I thought. Maybe it’s going to be a nice, peaceful evening. The rest of the night passed uneventfully and my sons drifted off to a nice relaxed sleep. I put the clean, dried and folded clothes away, read the newspapers and decided to shower and get to bed early. Maybe I could catch up on some rest, something I hadn’t experienced in years. Yes, I thought confidently, it was going to be a good night. Then I fell asleep. Or did I? I’m still not sure. I remember turning off the bed table lamp. I also remember thinking of my job. I was employed as an inspector of the printed circuit boards used by the Air Force in their radar systems. It was a hectic and mentally strenuous job, where Air Force personnel constantly walked around waiting to catch somebody doing something wrong. But, it was a good job and I loved the authority I had as an inspector. That night, my thoughts were on the job I just completed and new one facing me in the morning. The next thing I remember was shivering as if I’d been sleeping in a bed of ice. It was still fairly warm for October. Not cold enough to produce the chill that shrouded my bedroom. I reached down to pull the blanket up and around my shoulders. To my horror, I realized I couldn’t move my arms. I tried to sit up. I couldn’t do that either. Oh my God! I thought, what’s wrong with me? Panic took control of my mind as, no matter how hard I tried to move, I couldn’t. I had no feeling in my body from my neck down. I was paralyzed. My thoughts were running rampant. What am I going to do? What are my kids going to do? How can I go to work? If I can’t move, how can I keep my job and therefore, my house? How can I take care of my little boys? The only thing I could think to do was cry out and awaken them. Yet, I had no voice. No sound. I couldn’t even cry. All I could physically do was let a few small teardrops slide down the sides of my face. Then it happened. From out of nowhere, hovering above my bed and right below the ceiling, was a huge, bright cloud. It illuminated my room with an eerie greenish, yellowish haze. Although I don’t think that it really was a cloud, that is the best word I can find to describe what I think I saw. Suddenly, within this so-called cloud, appeared a horrible, vicious looking face. I can’t say that it wasn’t a human face but, then, I can’t say it was, either. The figure was so distorted all I really saw were eyes and a mouth. It made no sound, but only cast an ugly, evil, twisted grin across the ceiling from what seemed to be the span from wall to wall. It began to descend. Slowly and steadily, it came closer and as it did, I realized that the closer it got to me, the less I could breathe. As my breath lessened, my pulse pounded out uneven drumbeats in my ears. Oh, my God! I’m going to die! The thought made me sick. I felt the most unbearable anguish as my thoughts continued, How will by boys cope with finding their mother dead? What will happen to them? Yet, even in my darkest despair, movement was beyond my reach. I felt the hot salty tears streaming down the sides of my face. I tried to scream. Still, nothing happened. I began to feel drowsy as my eyelids felt heavier and heavier. With what I thought might be my last breath, I prayed, Somebody, help me! Oh, God, please help me! As my body started feeling lighter, I thought I heard someone whisper, “Scream.” So, I tried. I kept trying. Finally after what seemed hours, I thought I heard myself utter the smallest of whimpers. I tried again and my voice became a bit louder. Then as quickly as the cloud appeared, it was gone. Gone, too, was the bone wrenching paralysis that encased my body. I realized I could breath without difficulty and without gasping for air. I tried to speak and found my voice just as if it never left. Then, without so much as a second thought, I jumped out of bed and raced toward my son’s bedrooms in fear – thinking that whatever had visited me, might be visiting them. Please read the other parts of The Window: Chapter ONE Chapter TWO Chapter THREE Chapter FOUR For those who would dare read the rest of these ghoulish entries, please click the link below::::: The Greatest Ghost Story Write-Off  |
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