Ghostly Nighttime Visitor
Does life exist beyond the physical realms that we are accustomed to? Is it possible that perhaps another superimposed world lay on top of our concrete world? The following event occurred to me when I was a youngster in our upper west side, New York apartment. This happened during one of the more active of paranormal times in my life.
One late school night as time was of the essence, sleep wouldn’t come for me. As I tossed and turned trying to find a restful place in my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something or someone was watching me. At my young age I feared many things as well as challenged many others. But this was an entirely different feeling all together. Having collectable items in my room as most children have, began to take on a life of its own. Suddenly, a coin can began to rattle then shake uncontrollably. Without looking I knew exactly what was making that noise. I buried myself under the covers hoping that whatever it was would just go away. But it only worsened. Had my father brought something home that evening while out and about on a paranormal investigation? Thoughts rang ramped though my tiny mind. Amidst all my erratic thinking, my body suddenly become frozen. I couldn’t move, and each breath I took was as silent as could be. I began to feel an impression of hands slowly gliding over my entire being almost as if I was a can of beans scanned at the grocery store. The strange thing was as frightened as I should have felt at that exact moment, was not in fear at all. I wanted it to desperately leave, but I knew I had to wait it out whatever it was . When the impression faded away I was still buried beneath my seven layers of covers. Thank goodness it was winter as I had much protection in hiding at that moment. If it were summer I’d be between a thin layer of a sheet and that ghost!
I surmised it to be a ghost moving about my home. I didn’t feel it meant any harm to me, but rather curious as to who I was. In my family the ghost business was taken very seriously and perhaps this one ghost felt obliged to accompany my father back home just because it could. Perhaps it was looking for a “friendly” place to stay. The room’s temperature was uncommonly frigid until the impression left my body. When you live in a high-rise building that is dating back to pre-war times, those heaters get very hot indeed. So, there was no mistaking the room’s temperature drop. In today’s modern techniques, you would use a device that shows you readings of temperature changes when investigating a haunting or paranormal disturbance. What seemed like hours upon hours was only a few until light poured into my room. I pulled back the covers and a sigh of relief escaped my lips. I cased my room slowly looking at everything to see if anything had moved or was still there watching me. When I looked up at the coin can, it wasn’t there. Frantically I got up and looked on the side of the bookcase which held it and I found it was laying on the floor. I knew then that there was an entity visiting my room earlier that evening and only could hope it was not going to re-join me again for the next night.
I knew I wouldn’t get hurt, but I still was afraid because what I could not see was what I feared most. The unknown was too close too home. I learned to accept my fated path with ghosts but as a child saw them differently as they knew who I was but I didn’t always know who they were. Had I disturbed something being a huge fan of horror films and dressing up each Halloween as a witch? I began thinking maybe I conjured something up through my love of the creepy and fantasy-oriented world I’d imagine. Without a medium to get names and information (which I didn’t have) I wasn’t really going to know. Don’t get me wrong, as there was a plethora of mediums circulating my home as a child, however, I didn’t make that connection and did not feel the need to speak of such things at that time. Although my father would have been the best person to understand, it wouldn’t be until I was older that we could have those fuller conversations. As a child he would say things like, “Some of my best friends are ghosts,” laughing and walking away into the kitchen for his daily cup of Joe. In any case, I chalked it up to a night that I would hope would not occur again for at least fifty years.
