I'll Follow Your Voice

The air was cool. The sun was a burning orange heatless fireball in the pale blue sky. Jason walked in the woods, a sea of brown surrounding him as he breathed out white vapor clouds. Wearing rubber boots, he made his walking in a creak, letting his mind wander. Going on walks was common for him, something he enjoyed doing. But as the evening progressed, and the sun descended behind a row of naked trees and the air grew colder, Jason stopped.

Something was calling from far away.

The sound was coming from somewhere behind. He tuned an ear to it. Strange, he thought, what could be making such a sound? Ahead of him was the sound of water flowing through a damned up area. A singular bird chirped above him. He could hear himself breathing, feel his own heartbeat. But the sound continued. It was high, and drawn out. The call dropped a few pitches, making the sound only more foreign to his ears. He gazed at the long running creak before him; flat, brown, and a clear view ahead. Jason had been walking through a different area of the woods, taking a route he hadn't before taken.

When the call carried to his ears, he turned around to the sound. There, floating over the flat stretch of creak he had previous walked through was a being cloaked in black. Jason let out a yip of surprise, backpedaled and tripped over his feet, tumbling into the creak. Ice cold water flowed into the seat of his pants, his heart racing, his breath quick, but when he looked to area he saw the cloaked being. It was gone.

Elsewhere...

A young woman, Krystal, is sitting by her mother as she lies in her death bed. Her illness has gotten the best of her. Krystal's mother has become frail, weak, and incoherent. Her skin has a yellow tint and clings to her skin like old leather. Krystal's eyes are swollen and puffy, she's been crying. Her mother has been silent all day, sleeping peacefully. But now she stirs, raising a bony hand as Krystal raises her head and stands.
"Momma?" she says.
 The mother gestures for Krystal to come closer, her purple lips moving silently. Heart beating as if she has just run a marathon, Krystal leans in. Her mother's voice comes out in a wavering croak.
"Do you see?"
Krystal looks curiously at her mother, blinking.
The mother raises her bony hand again, and this time Krystal realizes she is pointing at something. She follows her hand and looks at a corner in the room. More bemused, she turns to her mother, brow furrowed.
"I don't see anything Mama."
Her mother takes in a long rattling breath and lets it out slowly. "An..." she gasps. "An angel darling."
Krystal's eyes shoot back to the corner. Suddenly she does feel something, something watching her and her mother, and it is waiting. The lights flicker, and she can see a pale light lingering in the corner, hovering. The air grows cool, and Krystal's skin breaks out in gooseflesh. She absently rubs her arms. The light fades and cool air blows over Krystal's face, making her instinctively close her eyes. She waits until the cool air passes, and when it finally does, she slowly opens her eyes. The air is warming again. When she turns to her mother, her head is laying to the side, eyes open, mouth slightly agape, not breathing.

Elsewhere...

Night settled into a small house within a cul-de-sac. Everything was peaceful, not a single thing stirred. The house was dark, and so was the little neighborhood. Inside the master bedroom, Jamie and Matt Harris lay in bed together. Jamie was sleeping sound, but Matt is awake, his eyes are wide open. He had another horribly vivid dream. They have been plaguing him for the past week, and they have started to disturb him. But his concern over what he has been seeing was interrupted by crying.

Matt sat up.

Why was there crying? They didn't have a baby. Matt sat in the darkness, listening intently. Jamie breathed deeply beside her, the house creaked occasionally, and in the far side of the house...crying. Hesitantly, Matt threw the covers back, put on his slippers and robe, and exited the bedroom.

As he entered the living room, he realized the sound was closer, louder. He peered to the closed door leading to the basement. Sliding his feet across the white carpet, he approached the door and placed an ear against it. The crying was definitely coming from behind. Matt took a step back and grasped the doorknob, it was freezing, and pulled the door open. Pale moonlight illuminated the basement blue as it beamed through the only basement window. In front of the freezer where he and his wife store extra food and such, there was a dark mass before it. Matt squinted. The crying stopped, and Matt felt a surge of panic swell through him. He shut the door quickly.

Flashlight, he thought, I need a flashlight. There was one sitting atop the fridge in the kitchen. It was just around the corner. If he could just...

But he doesn't. The sudden panic he felt has faded and a different feeling washed over him. Embarrassment. Taking a deep breath to steady his heart, he opened the door again and peered down the stairs. The black mass was right in front of the door, shapeless arms rising into the air. Matt screamed and slammed the door.


*****

Okay, I think I've had my fun. I had an interesting walk and thought I'd share some of the things going through my mind at the time. But this does bring something up that has been on my mind lately. The paranormal. I think it's safe to say ghosts are something we all are interested in collectively. Of course, there are those who don't believe ghosts, spirits, and haunting. Nevertheless, the attraction remains.

Why?

Life is an interesting little show. I tend to think there is a lot more going on than some of us are willing to believe. People establish rules to their life so they can live in the reality they surround themselves in. When something comes along (death in family, family member, stray dog, anything) we adjust to it. However, it disrupts the things we were planning to do, or are used to doing. A family member showing up usually isn't a bad thing (unless we're talking in-laws), but we all have a routine we want to get back to so we get on with our lives.

However, when we have something interrupt our lives and routine that we don't understand, it creates fear. Fear is a irrational thought, however it is apart of our basic emotion set as human beings. When fear takes over, everything around us his magnified, the mind can't process thought like it would if the person wasn't scared. And if fear lingers long enough, it can erode the mind. But, when fear is alleviated, we look back at the moment where the fear was induced and two possible results happen.

We try to remove it from our minds.
We remember the event to be worse than it actually was.

The point I'm trying to get at here is when our lives are bothered by something that scares us, like a ghost or spirit, it becomes hard for us to believe what we are seeing, even if we are terrified and the entity is presenting itself. For those who believe in such phenomenon, they might be less terrified and are not only willing to accept what they see, but also curious about why they are seeing what they are seeing.

I think this why there is such a overall interest in the paranormal. It's that hint that something greater is going on, and we are getting glimpses of it. That ever wondering question of what happens after death driving us to chase ghosts and try to communicate with them.

Personally, I think ghosts, hauntings, and other such occurrences are real. I've had my fair share of strange events and there is something going on in this world that is beyond my understanding. Perhaps, our beliefs influence what we see. I'm not religious, but I'm definitely a spiritual person.

So, dear reader, what do you think? You think there's merit in ghosts? Do you believe a place can be haunted by a soul that cannot, or will not leave this world?

Leave the light on.

J.G.A.