The ghosts come out at night.
That’s what they all tell us at least. Whether it’s an old ghost story, and legend, or a talking head on a paranormal show, there’s something about a dark and stormy night that sets the table for an encounter. Reasons are sometimes provided. Pseudo-scientists, obsessed with explaining the paranormal using the idea of waves will talk about the sun’s radiation being lessened and how that allows other energies time to shine. Other will say that with the lack of light our other senses are heightened. The truth may be we’ve been told ghosts will come when the lights go out, and so we’re ready for them. Either way, there’s something about being defenseless, in your bed, that makes those shadows or creaks come alive and reveal the dead.
Maybe those sleeping moments are the reason. You’re subconscious and dream world bleed into reality and create hallucinations. Maybe you’re more awake when you’re asleep.
Over the years I’ve collected dozen of stories with two common elements; beds and ghosts. These are not moments of sleep paralysis or Old Hag Syndrome; they’ll be another post about those. Instead here are two stories of people who put their head on their pillow expecting a good night’s sleep, but something happened on the way to dreamland.
Jason is an eighteen year old son of Portuguese immigrants who have lived in the Fall River/New Bedford area since their arrival in America. Members of his family have had numerous experiences, including a ghostly kidnapping of sorts in a chapel near Isben, but Jason remembers what happened most in the second house they lived in when he was only ten.
The landlord told them the three bedroom apartment on South Main Street in Fall River had a history of “weird” things happening, but Jason’s father didn’t believe in that sort of thing. There had been reports by people living in the apartment of and neighbors had said things were found moved and there were sometimes noises coming from the kitchen when no one was in there.
For the first four months nothing unusual happened and the whole family ignored the cold spots that occurred randomly in the house. “It was summer, and sometimes you’d have to wear a coat in the kitchen sometimes,” Jason relates. He and his family were never sure what rooms would get cold or for how long.
It was Jason’s room that became the source of tension in the house. One night, around 1:00 in the morning, Jason got up to go to the bathroom. When he returned to the room the window was open. He remembered having closed it but shut it again and returned to bed. He tried to go back to sleep, but he opened his eyes again when he heard his window slowly opening again. He raised his head and there was no one in the room.
“I was too lazy to get up and close it, so I tried to forget it and went back to sleep.” He couldn’t though. As soon as he put his head back down, the window slammed shut. He sat up and watched as the window opened and closed four or five times while he watched. He ran out and slept on the couch.
Over the next few days he begged his parents not to make him stay in the room and they eventually broke down and moved his little sister in there. After a few nights she experienced the same thing and “flipped out.” Jason says he was young at the time and there might be another reason, but the family moved out less than a month later.
After arguing over where we would live, I decided in 1999 to move from Boston to Orlando, Florida, to be with my fiancé. Jenna and I were living on Park Drive in Boston with another friend of ours, Amy. Nothing had ever really happened in the apartment, although we would often have the feeling we were not alone or that we were being watched.
Also, Karma, Jenna’s cat, would attack the walls. I would photograph her when she would do this, but I never picked anything up.
After we loaded all my things into a moving truck we went to bed because Jenna and I were leaving in the morning to start the twenty-one hour drive to Orlando. Because my bed was packed, I slept on our comfortable couch. I was woken up at about four in the morning by a kiss on my cheek. At first I thought it was Jenna or Amy, but it seemed odd for either of them to come out and kiss me. Her face was right next to mine, close enough that I have kissed her back. I remember thinking my face was even still wet from the kiss. The only word I can use to describe her expression is bittersweet, like she was going to miss me but was happy for me as well. She had these intense, squinted eyes, like when someone you know is trying to send you a message without saying anything so other people don’t pick up on it. I turned to get a better look at her, and instantly she appeared across the room near the girls’ bedroom, like she was on a sliding dolly.
The girl now standing by their door was slightly shorter than either of them with her hair coming down off her shoulders. I could not make out her face, and as I was about to say hello, she turned to leave and disappeared.