#Paranormal Wednesday - Little Ghost Stories: Part One

Because of Musa Publishing closing its doors (and consequently, its blog) you may see a couple of recycled Musa blog posts this week. This is one of them.
Forgive me for being lazy but its been a crazy week. 

Little Ghost Stories: Part One

I grew up being moved yearly. My step-dad was always in search of the "perfect" teaching job, which didn't afford us the stability of a white-picket fence. In one particular instance, I remember being relegated to a walk-in closet as my bedroom because that's all we could afford. Most of the rentals were older places, and with these older places, came a ghost or two. It's something I learned to accept. A new rental meant a new "something" to coexist with—and sometimes they weren't so nice. The following experience is one of many. You can believe me or not, it's totally up to you.

Photo courtesy of massdistraction via Flickr

When I was 10-years-old, we moved to an island. I’m an insomniac and have been since I was a kid. Consequently, being awake while the rest of my family slept was nothing new. After hours of tossing and turning one evening, I decided to get up and go into the living room. While sitting on the couch, I suddenly heard singing in my ear. It was as if a woman was sitting right next to me singing Time in a Bottle. The song was popular at the time (and yes, that dates me) but I didn't know the words. At that point, I did what any kid would do if they weren't compelled to run away screaming. I politely sat and listened until she finished. Afterwards, I went back to bed and had the worst nightmare. I dreamed that there was a naked, young woman wrapped in a shower curtain in our bathtub. She was blonde, had a bullet hole in her head, and was quite dead. It was a graphic nightmare for a 10-year-old, I never watched television and rarely had nightmares. I had it for weeks until we finally moved. Each time, it became more intense—it had gotten to the point where she was clawing her way out of the tub and trying to speak to me through the shower curtain. Needless to say, I was a bit of a wreck by the time we moved. Years later, I found out from my parents that there was indeed, a murder at that house. They didn't elaborate, but I always wondered of the details. Parents, tell your kids these things ahead of time, because if they ever experience anything weird, they will always wonder.

Now, I know what you’re probably going to ask me. Do I make stuff up because I write paranormal fiction? No. I’m a writer. I write fiction and draw the line between fiction and real life. However, the best fiction is when writers “write what they know” and a little of "what I know" creeps into my novels from time to time.

Next Wednesday, I'll share Part Two of my Little Ghost Stories.