I'm not sure if it would be Rick's ghost or the ghost he always talked about. It was as if he talked about the ghost like he was just somebody that lived there. Nobody believed him, but ever since then I sure have wondered.
I once lived in a haunted house. Or rather, a haunted apartment.
It was a lovely penthouse apartment, overlooking the ocean. There were large, floor to ceiling windows in the living room, overlooking the sea. During the day, one could see the beautiful view. But at night, it was pitch-black outside, which turned the windows into mirrors from the inside, reflecting the contents of the room. I used to sit on a settee facing the windows, watching television, meaning I could see myself and the room reflected in the windows.
To my right and behind where I sat stretched a hallway, leading to the bedrooms. I could see down the hallway, reflected in the windows.
Not long after I'd moved into the apartment, I was watching television one night, when I became aware that someone was standing in the hallway. I could see his reflection in the windows. It gave me quite a start. Alarmed, I got up to investigate, only to find that no-one was there.
I initially thought I'd imagined it. A trick of the light, I thought. After all, it wasn't well lit in that part of the apartment. However, my friend revisited me many times thereafter. Not every night, but often enough for me to be aware of his presence.
I became reconciled to the fact that he was a spirit presence and would allow myself to closely observe him in the reflection, whenever he appeared.
He only ever appeared in the reflection. Whenever I went to look down the hallway, there was nothing to be seen.
At no time did I ever feel scared or intimidated by his presence. Nor, however, was it a comforting feeling.
As I observed him, I saw that he was a young man in his mid-20s with dark hair cut short at the nape and heavy on his forehead. He was dressed in contemporary shirt and slacks. He always stood very still, about half-way down the hallway, I guess looking at my reflection in the windows.
Was he aware that I was also looking at him in the same reflection? I'll never know.
He never moved. Just stood there, very still, looking down the hallway. If I became distracted by the television or something else, he would be gone when I looked back.
In time, the realisation came to me that he had died in that apartment. Don't ask me how I know, but I feel sure that he committed suicide there.
It got to the point where I was empathising with his plight; i.e., being stuck there in that apartment.
One night, as he stood in the hallway, looking at me in the reflection, I said out loud to him,
"I now release you to your highest good on all levels. There is nothing to keep you here. Be gone from here now. So mote it be."I never saw him again.
This is a true story.
Topic: Messages From The Heartland (Read 2149372 times)