I Still Don't Believe in the Ghost I Saw
Cue the Righteous Brothers' "Unchained Melody"
My wife and I were sitting in bed watching T. V. and looking at our phones. A woman ghost in a torn wedding dress floated into the room through the bedroom door, hovered for a second, and then disappeared up through the ceiling.
I waited a few seconds.
I tried to think of an explanation.
It was condensation from the air conditioning. No. The air conditioning is not on. Something came out of the fire detection thingy on the ceiling. No. One of the kids is vaping, and I just busted him. No.
The ghost looked like one of the ghosts in the movie "Poltergeist." It stretched out, and its mouth opened wide and grotesque as it went up into the ceiling. It also reminded me of the ones that float around the dining room in the Haunted House at Disneyland. It was definitely a woman, and she was wearing a wedding dress, or some sort of outfit from olden times, like the 1920s or earlier.
Finally, I just had to give in.
"Did you just see that?" I asked my wife.
"Oh my god! I wasn't going to say anything, because I know you don't believe in ghosts!" she said.
"Do not say anything to the kids. We're not moving, and I don't want them scared about anything," I implored her.
"I always told you there were ghosts! And that I can predict the future, and I'm always right!" my wife said with way too much delight.
"Oh god, here we go," I thought. "I'm screwed."
. . .
"Son #2 saw the ghost last night, didn't you?" says my wife, as we're in the car.
"Yep. He was downstairs and he came up behind me. Then he whispered my name," said Son #2.
"There are no ghosts in the house," I say.
"Yes there are! You saw it yourself!" says my wife.
"The thing I saw, was a woman if it was anything," I said.
"See, there's ghosts," my wife said.
. . .
I woke up. I came down the stairs, following the smell of coffee. My wife and her brother who was staying with us for a few days were sitting at the kitchen counter.
"Tell him! Tell him right now!" said my wife, throwing up her hands, then crossing her arms smugly.
"You guys have a ghost in your guest room," said the brother.
I just stared at him pissed off.
"It tried to have its way with me last night."
"Dude, you drank a sixer of Coors Lite last night," I reminded the brother.
"Nope, nope. This was hours later. It woke me up, and held me down."
"Well, according to the "Long Island Medium" here, and Son #2, the ghost is a MAN!" I said. "So I hope He WAS GENTLE!"
© Copyright Jack Clune 2020
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