September 30th:
He stood outside in the cold autumn wind. Leaves flew circles around him and swooshed away afraid to land at his feet. They swirled about and came to rest in a pile far away. The ground around him was bare of grass and leaves. It was hard and dry despite the rains that washed the autumn earth. A dense fog surrounded him creating an aura of decreasing hues of gray. He never moved, He just stood there emitting a mysterious vibration of darkness and foreboding. Everywhere else you could see that fall was still in bloom. The barren land he inhabited created a contrast between the colorful living foliage that is status quo for the season and the barren section devoid of color projecting the semblance of evil lurking in a veil of death.
He looked up at my window. Not moving, just staring. He knew I had seen him but he just stood there. As for me, I couldn’t move. All I could do was just stare right back into those seemingly empty eyes. Those eyes, lifeless, devoid of expression, letting me know that I was in the presence of a dark entity. They pierced my soul and as if in a trance I felt myself being transported back in time. To a place I did not want to go.. And then he vanished. I don’t remember taking my eyes away from his cold hard stare but one minute he was there and the next… he was gone. I could feel my skin tingle as the goosebumps rose from my arms and moved to the back of my neck and down my spine.
I ran to my computer and googled apparitions, ghosts, evil spirits, demons, anything that might give me a clue of who he was, but nothing. The closest I came was to Romano, an evil cult leader depicted in the Show Ghost Whisperer. It wasn’t him. All day I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew who he was and I was afraid of him.
The first week of October:
We were preparing for the fall activities. There were pumpkin patches to visit, apple picking, hay rides, the fall foliage festival, the trick or treat trail at the local state park and Halloween. I kept busy trying to keep the creepy visitor out of my thoughts. I had not told anyone what had happened. Every so often the back of my neck would tingle and I felt as if, like a dog, the hair on my back would stand up. I would scan the area afraid he had returned. The slightest sound made me jump. I was a mess.
“Keep busy” I told myself.
So I did. But the distractions were short lived.
The second Monday of October:
I was extracting the pulp from my soon to be Jack O’Lantern when I felt a coldness in my bones. I checked the thermostat and it read seventy and then it went crazy, sixty, fifty. A cold chill invaded my body and a smoky vapor escaped from my mouth with every cold breath. Suddenly my body was not my own. I was not in control. I found myself being led to the window. I tried to fight the compulsion to go there and open the blinds that had been closed since the last appearance of the spirit but it was useless. I was powerless to resist. I looked down and there he stood glued to the same spot. It was almost like he had never left. I tried not to look but his will was stronger than mine and I found myself, once again, peering into his searing eyes. I felt sick to my stomach and my head began to whirl as once again he was taking me to a place I never wanted to return.
The house was old and abandoned. The years had not been kind to the five stories high building. The street was empty of life. I pressed my shoulder against the rusty door straining against its resistance. It flew open and I walked through. I stopped at the first apartment at the end of the hallway. The door opened and I walked in. It was a railroad apartment in which the rooms were separated by curtains. Shades of multicolored cloth dividing each section. The entrance led into the kitchen where there was a young girl, about five, sitting at the table enjoying a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows and a clump of italian buttered bread. He stood behind her looking like the vile creature I knew he was. How could I know that when I didn’t even know him, or did I? I wanted to run and save her from what was to come but I couldn’t move. I was powerless, not in control of my body. I was like a puppet on a string being led through a sequence of events. He was showing me these things and I didn’t know why. I didn’t want to know.
The movie continued, he took the little girl by the hand and led her to the bathroom. Horrified, I watched as he removed her clothes and began to wash the chocolate from her face and hands. I wanted to turn away, not see anymore, but he would not allow it. The little girl was smiling, and I thought,
“Maybe it’s just a memory, nothing to be scared of.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than that. I tried so hard to break free of this, to return to the safety of the present.
“What do you want from me?”
He read my mind and answered,
“Remember”
I shivered at the thought. Could this be like a Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol?” Was I being shown things that would change my life? Was this the ghost of my life’s past?
He sat the child on the bathroom seat and sat opposite her on a chair he must have brought in. He removed his shirt as he stared first at me and then the little girl. A sinister smile came across his face and then he laughed. A dark, howling, depraved, shriek. It shook me to my core and entered my very soul. I wanted to hold my hands to my ears so I couldn’t hear. I wanted to cry out to the little girl to run. But, I was rooted to the spot just as I had been many years ago when I was that frightened child.
Like a precious lifeline I was jerked back across time back into my kitchen, my home, and safety. But was I safe? I ran to the window to see if he was there. He wasn’t. I fell to the ground a bundle of nerves and wept.
“Why was this happening? What control does this spirit have on me? What does he want?
I prayed that this was the end of it.
The third Monday of October:
Everyday I lived in fear that he would return. I was a nervous wreck. I couldn’t figure out what he wanted and what I should do. I knew that I needed it to end. I was so emotionally exhausted that On that Monday I sat in my chair and fell into a restless sleep. I was haunted by dreams of monsters, living dead, and other such creatures that had invaded my childhood so many times. A howling dog shook me awake. I jumped up from my chair and looked around. It was the middle of the day but the house was dark. I tried to turn on the lights but they did not work. I went to get some candles and peered outside to see if other homes had lost power. There he was, looking up, creeping inside of me, and invading my source. I was tired, too tired to fight. It wouldn’t have helped anyway so I just gave up and let him come in.
I could not feel me anymore for he had possessed me in my entirety. I entered a kaleidoscope of carnival mirrors in which my essence was broken into bits and pieces. I was no longer whole but fragments of me. I spiraled down to nothingness turning and turning down a dark abyss. I felt death was near and I could not do anything to stop it. Then, everything slowed down and I was dropped back into that house. Back to where the old movie was playing. Rewinding the events as they had happened back then. I remember now. It came to me as if it were just yesterday. The man who had come to save me was my monster. The evil was alive and embedded in his every being. I stood there and felt hate and loathing. The child looked up and smiled, her innocence would be taken but she would not know it for a long time. I would not know it until this day when he came and forced himself on me once again.
“Why should I remember?” I whispered in my mind.
“It is time” he said
Suddenly he began to change. The white fedora hat with the wide brim lay low on his face. He wore tan baggy slacks and a pullover thermal shirt. Were it not for the hat and the distortion of the face he might look normal. He might look like the grandfather I once loved and trusted. He was not.
“I know you.” I whispered
Halloween:
My daughter and I decided to go to a psychic who communicates with the dead. Tomorrow was the day of the dead so we were hoping someone we had lost might come through. Teresa, that was her name, was planning to share messages from souls who had taken their lives but I hoped for more. I wanted to know about the spirit who invaded my life for the past month and to see if he would be back. She began calling out names or clues to spirits that were coming through. She mentioned someone close to me and I stood up because I had recently lost my dad but she said it was someone young and it was a while back. It was my daughter’s dad, he had taken his life at the age of 33. He was a casualty of the Vietnam War. The medium ended the session and although I was happy that my daughter was able to get a message from her dad I was upset that I had not gotten any more closure about the spirit. I feared he would still come back.
After the session we waited in line to get a signed copy of her book. She looked up at me, pensive for a minute and then said,
“I can help you.”
On the day of the dead I lit a candle and placed a picture I found of him behind it. I wrote on a piece of paper my wish for him to leave me be and placed it under the candle. I never saw him again.