Please welcome my guest blogger, Matt from TheMatticusKingdom. Tell him what you would name your ghost, share your favorite haunting stories, visit his blog, and pass a little rawr-love his way! http://thematticuskingdom.wordpress.com
A hot dry wind is blowing outside. It’s a strong one too. (… Wind Advisory remains in effect until 3 PM PST this afternoon… A Wind Advisory for coastal areas means that winds of 35 mph or greater are expected. Use extra caution.) The foundation of the house shakes. The windows rattle. The walls creak and groan. The rafters screech…
I grew up in a haunted house.
Not this house:
I didn’t grow up in this house either, but that would have been fine if I had:
No, the house I grew up in was just your average ordinary suburban home: three bedrooms, two baths, a pool, a lawn out front and out back, and a brick wall separating our yard from the other neighbors. The inhabitants were all fairly normal too: parents, sibling, assorted pets, and one ghost.
Well, at least one ghost. There was one everyone agreed upon seeing anyway. I guess there could have been others and they just took turns haunting our home. None of us were experts in the paranormal so we couldn’t say for sure that we were seeing the same entity each time. The number of ghosts sharing our home with us is kind of beside the point, as just one ghost qualifies as a haunting. So, yes, I grew up in a haunted house.
We called our ghost George. (That’s a family joke and a story for another day.) He never tried to hurt us, he never really interacted with us, we would just see him from time to time walking down the hallway and standing in the family room. He was a friendly ghost, unlike this one:
Well, everyone else saw him and would share their stories around the dinner table. I never did.
After the first of the “George” stories surfaced and each of my parents and my brother saw the shadow and shape, felt the presence, and caught the movement from the corner of the their eyes I enthusiastically waited for my turn to catch a glimpse of our housemate. I waited and waited and waited. The years passed and their stories continued without getting to add one of my own. For a time I wondered if it was all an elaborate ruse my parents and brother had concocted to mess with me. Eventually, I stopped believing I would ever see him.
I added on a few more years and the stories around the dinner table became fewer and far between and then ceased altogether. Either George had stopped popping in to say hello or the joke had grown old. Our ghost was all but forgotten.
Then my brother, three years older than me, left for college. I was left alone for the first time in the room we had shared for my entire cognitive life. That night, that first night alone, something woke me up. I opened my eyes and saw George standing next to my bed.
It was a shape, a distortion of light, something definitely standing there while not really being there at all. And then it moved. The head, what I perceived as the head, turned towards me and then turned towards my brother’s empty bed. George then turned and walked out of the room, pausing briefly to peer into my parents’ bedroom before disappearing down the hall.
He had come to check on me, to make sure I was going to be okay. And I was. I was going to be, it was all going to be fine. I fell back to sleep.
Over the following three years, before I too left for college, I saw George off and on. Sometimes he would come into my room and sometimes he would just stand in the hall. He would stay long enough to see that I was still doing okay and then he would go on his merry way.
Wind always reminds me of George, who I haven’t seen since I left home 13 years ago, not because the howls and groans are noises I associate with him but because they are noises I don’t associate with him. Our ghost wasn’t a poltergeist, he was a guardian.
George is a friendly ghost,
The friendliest ghost I know.
He has ever been,
Our family loves him so.
(Adapted from the Casper theme.)
Now that you love TheMatticusKingdom as much as I do, check out his blog for his unique perspectives on writing and entertainment, as well as enviable writing samples, and every day types of inspiration and motivation. If I were you, I’d start here: