I've had a few people ask what triggered my interest in the paranormal, and the honest answer is - it's always seemed interested in me.
It seemed polite - and wise - to return the favour. In the spirit of Halloween, I thought I'd share a couple of the stranger things that have happened.
One of my earlier experiences, and one which scared the daylights out of me, happened when I was a pre-teen. It's also the reason I never sleep with a mirror facing me if I can help it; I never want this particular experience again.
I'd moved schools. One of the friends I'd left behind was a girl who had long, curly black hair that fell well past her shoulders. I would have given a lot for hair like that; my own was mousey-brown and cropped short. Considering I still managed to get gum in it (don't ask - it seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do at the time), I can't blame my mom for keeping it that way.
I missed my friend; we phoned and visited each other for the first few months, but when new friends came along, we drifted out of touch.
I hadn't thought of her in months. Then, late one night, something woke me up.
I have no idea what made me wake up, shivering from cold, despite it being the middle of summer. I do know that I sat up, feeling uneasy, feeling that there was something wrong.
After a few minutes, I decided to get a glass of water, and switched on my bedside light. As the glow through the lampshade sped through the room, I looked over at the dressing table, with the fancy mirror - and I froze.
My hair was tumbling, in dark, lustrous curls, past my shoulders. It was long enough to show strands almost at my waist, swinging as I gasped and inhaled, ready to scream - and then it was gone. The glorious curls in the mirror vanished and my room started to warm up again.
Eventually I climbed out of bed to go to the bathroom, which I needed very badly right then.
I had no idea what had happened. All I knew was that it scared me badly enough to sleep with my light on for the next 2 nights.
3 days after the ghost hair episode, the phone rang. My mom sat me down to tell me that my friend had died in a car crash a couple of days earlier.
It didn't take a genius to make the connection, and I knew she'd never hurt me - but more than 20 years later, I try not to sleep with a mirror facing me. I've lost more than a few people since that night - and I have no urge to find out what else will visit me through that silver-backed gateway.
***************************
It seemed polite - and wise - to return the favour. In the spirit of Halloween, I thought I'd share a couple of the stranger things that have happened.
One of my earlier experiences, and one which scared the daylights out of me, happened when I was a pre-teen. It's also the reason I never sleep with a mirror facing me if I can help it; I never want this particular experience again.
I'd moved schools. One of the friends I'd left behind was a girl who had long, curly black hair that fell well past her shoulders. I would have given a lot for hair like that; my own was mousey-brown and cropped short. Considering I still managed to get gum in it (don't ask - it seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do at the time), I can't blame my mom for keeping it that way.
I missed my friend; we phoned and visited each other for the first few months, but when new friends came along, we drifted out of touch.
I hadn't thought of her in months. Then, late one night, something woke me up.
I have no idea what made me wake up, shivering from cold, despite it being the middle of summer. I do know that I sat up, feeling uneasy, feeling that there was something wrong.
After a few minutes, I decided to get a glass of water, and switched on my bedside light. As the glow through the lampshade sped through the room, I looked over at the dressing table, with the fancy mirror - and I froze.
My hair was tumbling, in dark, lustrous curls, past my shoulders. It was long enough to show strands almost at my waist, swinging as I gasped and inhaled, ready to scream - and then it was gone. The glorious curls in the mirror vanished and my room started to warm up again.
Eventually I climbed out of bed to go to the bathroom, which I needed very badly right then.
I had no idea what had happened. All I knew was that it scared me badly enough to sleep with my light on for the next 2 nights.
3 days after the ghost hair episode, the phone rang. My mom sat me down to tell me that my friend had died in a car crash a couple of days earlier.
It didn't take a genius to make the connection, and I knew she'd never hurt me - but more than 20 years later, I try not to sleep with a mirror facing me. I've lost more than a few people since that night - and I have no urge to find out what else will visit me through that silver-backed gateway.
***************************
J H Sked is the author of WolfSong & Basement Blues.
You can find WolfSong on Amazon, Sony e-bookstore, Nook, iTunes & Smashwords. Basement Blues is on Amazon, Smashwords, iTunes and Nook 
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