Challenge Day 13: A Ghost Story

Sir Poops-A-Lot did it again, another warm greeting in the middle of the night (the hubby found it).The temps in Florida dropped again(like I’ve got control over that). The poor pooch honestly believes I control the weather. Poor thing. But, my hubby didn’t fall for his plight and went ballistic in the middle of the night. A lot of stomping went on and few f-bombs dropped out of my little sweetman’s mouth.

As I write this at six twenty-three am, Sir Poops-A-Lot is hunkered down head first at the back of his house. His blankies are all snugged around him and he hasn’t even acknowledged my presence. He’s definitely in the dog house.

But, that’s not the point of this blog. It’s about the ghost I used to live with.

In 2000, my daughter’s and I were charmed by a man to relocate to a whole different city. He wanted me to marry him. That was not my plan. Instead, I bought a house with him and we lived in sin.

This guy searched and searched for us a house. None of the ones he chose impressed me. They were houses in foreclosure. I preferred the nice new ones but not him. He pushed for the foreclosures and won.

One of the foreclosed homes won the heart of my pocketbook.

Before we bought it, we did the walk through. From the beginning, I sensed another presence. A shadow lingered in the living and dining room area. That part of the house made your hair stand on end and chilled your bones. At the corners of each window, sat a taped Catholic Saint. Don’t know which saint but definitely Catholic. Well, I peeled them off.

My No-No felt it, too. “Mom, its creepy here.”

After we moved in, strange things happened. The phone would ring a lot. When any of us answered it, static filled the line. Our television would turn off and on through out the day by itself. My one cat acted like she’d be carrying on one of her cat-conversations with someone no one else saw. Sometimes cold chills would pass through me and a shadow would appear.

At night, one could hear wall tapping and closet doors open and close.

Some time after these first few events, my daughter No-No saw several transparent figures. Twins and an old man. They’d visit her often. They visited my dreams. We’d have picnics together. Not only did they visit my dreams but some how they spoke to my insides. Weird. Very Weird.

During all of this, I’d discovered that I ended up with a Mr. Wrong. Work was a foreign word to him and he helped himself to my checking and savings(almost lost everything because of him). Not to mention, he bullied my daughters while I was at work.

Things that belonged to him came up missing a lot. Not really. more like lost or moved to other places. The ghost didn’t like him.

Some where in the middle of all this house and jerk drama, I visited a psychic. I learned that the ghost in my house was an old man who died there(confirmed through court papers and real estate agent) and that he really enjoyed the girls being there. The twins were from the turn of the century and enjoyed my daughters as well. But the old man was in charge of everything. He still owned the house in his mind and he didn’t like the jerk. He wanted him out of his house.

One night, I believe it was a Monday night, we were all sitting around the dining room table having a family meeting. Well, the jerk could never get through one of these meetings without slamming his hand down on the table(it wasn’t long after that, I kicked him out). Family meetings were always peaceful before he happened along.

Anyway, the last night jerk slammed his hand down onto the table, a bunch of candlesticks flew off my wall and pummeled his head. Every one went quiet for a moment,and then gasps came out of each girls. All their eyes went saucer big. Me, I giggled.

“Who did this?” Jerk yelled. “Which one of you did this?”

The girls didn’t respond but I did. “Grandpa-ghost.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The old man that died in this house doesn’t care for how you treat us. He doesn’t like you and neither do I. He and I would like you to leave,” I said.

Not long after, the jerk left for good. Grandpa-ghost did everything he knew to make sure of that.

Anybody else have a ghost story to tell?

Happy reading, blogging, and writing!!!

Shelly