Ghosts I have known (Part 1)

When I was younger I never thought about ghosts or the supernatural or anything like that. I did not believe or disbelieve, I just never really thought about it much.  It is said that seeing is believing, and in this case especially I think that is true.

Although I had many strange experiences when I was a kid, I don't know if any of them can be attributed to anything other than my imagination, so I will leave that out.

I got married the first time when I was 19. Dumb, I know, but that is another blog. We moved into this ancient and barely inhabitable farmhouse in McCammon. There was an old wooden staircase, and when you walked on it, your footsteps made a very distinct clunk clunk sound. Days when I did not have to work and or go to school I would stay in this creepy old house by myself while he went to work. Believe me, you have no idea how quiet quiet can be when you are sitting in a house all alone in the middle of no where.

I would be sitting in the living room studying when I would hear it ... "clunk, clunk, clunk." The very distinct sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.It would come all the way to the bottom, stop, and then go all the way back up. I was alone in the house, but thinking someone was playing a trick on me, I went to the stair, and of course, no one was there.

The tank lid on the toilet upstairs did not sit on the tank evenly, so that if you put something on it and the weight shifted it would make a clunk sound. There was a tree next to the window in the bathroom, and our cat liked to jump onto the tank lid to watch the birds. We would hear the clunk sound when she would jump onto the tank.

One day I was downstairs, home by myself again, I heard the clunk sound of the tank lid shifting positions. Now keep in mind that those tank lids are heavy, and the sound they make when put on or moved is  very distinct one. Moments later I heard the sound again. Then again and again really fast as if the cat was jumping off and back on really fast. I decided to investigate and went upstairs. The cat was not there. Ok, so she heard me coming and got spooked and went in the other room, right? As soon as I got back downstairs it started again. Clunk clunk clunk clunk over and over. K, what the hell is going on? I turned around, getting ready to go back upstairs, and when I turned around I saw the cat, sleeping peacefully on the living room floor....

My wedding ring only came off my hand when I washed my hands or rolled cookie dough or something. One day it simply disappeared. I could not find it and had no idea where I had left it. We literally tore that house apart for the next few weeks looking for it. We even tore apart the sink drains looking for it. Months went by... then one morning when I got up and went into the bathroom, there it was, sitting on the lid of the toilet as if someone had carefully placed it there for me to find. My hubby at the time swears it was not him, and I believe him. Why would he want to hide my wedding ring for that long?

But this is where it gets crazy.... and no one will believe me . . .

I woke up in the middle of the night, but it was not a gradual waking up, it was like something woke me up. I felt eyes on me, so I sat up in bed, and I swear on a stack of Bibles, at the end of my bed there was a male figure standing with his fists clenched as tight as they would go.

He was wearing blue jeans and a denim jacket and a white T shirt. He had sandy blonde hair. Where his face should be there was like a mist, a fog, but it went back forever. What I remember the most is the absolute anger. I have never felt anger like that, it filled the room, it made the air thick and it was hard to breathe, it was like suffocating.

I did the only thing I could think of, and that was to hide like a child. I curled up in my head and pulled the covers over myself and froze. After a few moments I felt the air lift and when I got brave enough I looked out from my little cotton cave, and he was gone.

Later on I found out that the people who had lived there had a son who had been killed in a motorcycle accident . . .