I have those “weird-in-a-fun-way” friends. A couple of them were joking back and forth yesterday, and one of them said, ” What if, every time you yawn, a ghost puts his dick in your mouth?” That reminded me of a story…
Once upon a time, I was living with this married couple. Yeah,it was like that, although I was mostly only fooling around with her. But that’s another story altogether. They’d moved to Indiana a few months before me, and drawn by the appeal of there being anywhere but here, I followed along.
My girl had a rich uncle who rented them a really cool old two bedroom,two-story, and I had my own large room connected to theirs. It was just a mattress on the floor and a dresser, but it was fine. I mostly slept with them anyway,so,whatever.
The house was nice, but the upper floor and stairs creaked like a motherfucker. You literally could not take a step on those stairs without it reverberating through the whole house, which was pretty annoying when you were trying to sleep while everyone else was up and about. And if you heard the stairs creaking like that when you were the only person in the house, well, old houses creak. And if you heard the disembodied voice of a man whispering in your ear in the middle of the night, it was probably just the neighbors. Or the wind.
I kept getting woken up when I slept in their room by a voice. Specifically, a man’s voice, laughing and talking really loudly. They had this wrap around porch balcony deal off their bedroom, and they kept the doors open so the night air could get in, and we all just figured that someone outside was being noisy, and I’m a light sleeper. So I mostly just started going back to my mattress on the floor at night in hopes of getting some actual sleep, which I did. For a while.
One night, the three of us were downstairs playing video games. It was pretty late. Their toddler had been asleep for hours, and we were all getting pretty tired, but my girl’s husband and I were right at the end of Super Mario Bros., so we stayed up, and she went to bed. We finished our game maybe twenty minutes later, and I went on up to bed while he stayed downstairs to play another game.
*Creak,creak,creak!* up the stairs I went, and straight to my room, where I pretty much face-planted into the mattress, exhausted.
There was no way to sleep through those fucking creaking stairs, and the baby didn’t. As soon as I closed my eyes and started drifting off, she started screaming her head off. Generally, I tried to be a good little helper with the baby. I changed diapers, and fed her and since my room was closer, if she woke up, I’d go and see about her, but that night, I just could NOT make myself get up. I lay there,listening to her crying for like a whole minute, just trying to gather up the energy to crawl off my mattress. No dice.
A few seconds later, my girl came stomping through the door that connected her room to mine, and flitted by my bed in a huff. I watched her until she left my line of vision, but I didn’t have the energy to move or say anything. So I lay there and waited for her to come back by and bitch at me for not getting up. I could hear her in the baby’s room, soothing her back to sleep, and then a few minutes later, she walked back through my room.
She stopped a few feet from the foot of my bed, and I was on my side, pretending to be asleep, having little interest in starting a midnight argument over what my duties were and weren’t as the live-in side piece. She stood there for a couple of minutes, and I figured she was debating over whether or not to wake me up and yell at me, so I said nothing, and waited quietly for her to go away like the thunderstorm she was. I was hardly surprised when she called me at work the next day to tell me we “had to talk”, which of course meant that the next time she saw me, she was going to bitch for twenty minutes, IF I was lucky and kept quiet during her tirade.
The thing that I loved and hated about her was that she ALWAYS spoke her mind. Always. So when I went to the diner where she waited tables after work to get free food along with my ass-chewing,I was pleasantly surprised and mildly befuddled when I asked her what she wanted to talk about, and she just brushed it off, saying it was no big deal. Nothing was EVER “no big deal” to her, but I wasn’t about to question the gods of fortune when they gave me the opportunity of a free cheeseburger WITHOUT the ass chewing. In so many ways, I really am just a typical dude, except that I have a vagina and pretty spectacular pair of tits.
Weeks went by, and I’d all but forgotten those events, until the day we decided to take a two hour road trip to Louisville. She was driving with me sitting beside her, and hubs and baby in the back, and I was complaining about hearing weird noises and talking again. My girl went quiet for a second, and then she said, ” Yeah, I used to be able to make excuses for all that weird shit, but after the other week, I can barely sleep at night.”
Her husband, who was generally a pretty laid back and quiet guy, scolded, ” SHUT UP about that! I TOLD you not to say anything!” Normally,if either of us ” silly women” even hinted that we thought the weird noises in our house were of supernatural origin,he would have a field day, mocking us and teasing us about being big scaredy-cat girls. The fact that he was actually angry this time was pretty telling.
They argued back and forth for a few minutes, with her claiming that I deserved to know, and him asking what good it would do for me to hear it, until I finally forced her to just fucking tell me already.If old age and dementia claim all of my mind, this conversation will be one of the last things to go:
Her: You know that night we were playing Mario, and I went to be first, and then the baby started crying?
Me: Yes, and you got mad at me because I didn’t get up and go get the baby right away.
Her: I wasn’t mad that you didn’t get up to get the baby; I was mad because I thought you and (husband) were in your bed fooling around, and not only were you both cheating on me with me right there awake and watching, but you didn’t even stop to check on the baby.
Me: Yeah,no. That didn’t happen.
Her: (exasperated) I know that NOW. That’s just what I thought before I went into your room and actually saw the guy in bed with you. THEN I thought you were cheating on me with some random dude you’d snuck into the house.
Me: (Internally pissing my pants) No one will ever sneak up those stairs.
Her: Yeah, I know. I was awake when you came up, and I watched you and some tall, skinny guy walk into your room and lay down in the bed, and I thought it was you and (husband). Then when I got a good look at him, I realized he didn’t look anything like (husband). He had black hair, and dark eyes, and he stared at me like he hated me. Scared the hell out of me, so I left to go see about the baby, and when I came back, he was gone, and I knew he couldn’t have gotten past me on those rickety stairs without me hearing him. I looked all over the top floor after I left your room, and he’d just…disappeared.
I never saw the guy, but the voice that had been waking me up for months only got louder, and I’ll never know if it was just my paranoid imagination that made it seem like the voice had gotten closer, until I could occasionally feel the huff of warm breath in my ear.I moved out shortly thereafter, much to their profound unhappiness. I’d been ready to end things with them for a couple of months, and having the boogey man for a bunk mate was just another reason to go.
I wouldn’t say that I was traumatized by all that weird shit. I mean, it was scary at the time, but not exactly “Amityville Horror” level by any stretch. Clearly, if that ghost/demon/spirit was trying to seduce me, he did NOT bring his A game. After a few months, I pretty much just relegated it into the category of an interesting story that I occasionally like to tell to freak people out.
But my weird friends’ conversation reminded me of it, and so then I did five whole seconds of internet searching, where I picked the most reliable and interesting news source I could find on the subject. That’s right, Buzzfeed. It’s actually really funny and informative…
I’d like to know more, and maybe I’ll do a follow up one of these days, but it’s 5pm, and I’m thinking Arby’s right about now. I would, however, LOVE to hear your ghost stories. I find that shit fascinating.