Friday, October 5, 2012
Have you ever seen something out of the corner of your eye and dismissed it, thinking it was your imagination? Hoping it was your imagination?? Most of the time it is your imagination. Most of the time. I've seen those little shadows in my peripheral vision - - a split second snippet of dark movement and then it's gone. And I think no more about it. Certainly it was my imagination or something in my eye. Of course it was. Wasn't it?
My husband is not a lover of things paranormal like I am. We both believe in life after death, but I'm the one who loves to watch paranormal shows and has an EMF detector on my phone - because, well, you just never know. But his idea of a dream vacation is not staying in room 217 at the Stanley Hotel, hoping to be visited by spirits from the beyond. Nope, not him. He'd prefer Hawaii or something. My husband, however, is the one who had a "real" experience. Yes, a REAL one. Hardly seems fair, huh?
When we (my husband) was in graduate school many years ago, he worked full-time at night for the University doing janitorial work. He worked in the maintenance building, which was huge. And he was the only one there at night. Well, maybe I should say he was the only one ALIVE there. I and our children would visit him sometimes to break the monotony of pushing a vacuum all night. It was an old building which had been remodeled, but it was creepy when you were alone at night. It was big with lots of hallways and doors and stairs and machines making strange noises.
My husband worked there for five years, and during that five years he would see things out of the corner of his eye - - he could see shapes, a man and a boy. He could make out blue jeans and a white shirt. But, then, POOF! It was gone. And he thought it was probably his imagination.
On one particular night, however, he was vacuuming a long hallway, with open offices on either side, as he had done many many times before. This time it was different. Above the sound of the vacuum he thought he could hear someone running down the hallway, which was weird since he was supposed to be the only one in the building. He could hear the sounds of feet or shoes hitting the ground, and it was getting louder and closer. He turned off the vacuum and looked toward the direction of the sound, wondering who would be there so late, and why were they running? That's when he saw it. It. It was a gray, transparent shape, not quite a person . . . running down the hall and getting closer to him. The sound was getting louder and he was getting a little freaked out. He stood there, frozen, watching as the shape flew past him, not noticing or not caring that my husband was standing there. The sound dissipated as the figure got further down the hall, and then the sound and the figure were gone. Needless to say, my husband was stunned. He knew it wasn't his imagination. He had seen it. He had heard it. He looked down at his arms and they were void of color and the hairs on his arms were standing on end. That was enough for him. He came home for the night.
Nowadays, when I watch Ghost Hunters, Ghost Adventures, The Dead Files, Paranormal Witness and all the other shows like that on TV, my boys laugh and mock me.
But my husband? He just looks at me and doesn't say a word. Because he knows.