This is a dramatization based on actual true events.
A voice whispered my name and I awoke with a start. Wow…it’s really cold in here. I need to increase the heat. I sat up and looked around to see if my son was in the room. We’re the only two people in the apartment therefore he had to be the one who called me. Upon closer inspection, I realized there was no sign of him. I climbed out of bed and tottered slowly to his room in the dark, making sure not to bump into the furniture. I glanced throughout the living room and kitchen on my trek to make sure there wasn’t anything amiss. All appeared normal. I opened his door and peeked inside. He was clearly sound asleep. Then who or what called my name? Perhaps I was just dreaming but something stirred me from my sleep. I could hear thunderous footsteps directly above me. How is that possible when I live on the top floor? I’m pretty sure no one would be on the roof at this hour.
I jumped as a succession of raucous thumping noises startled me. First the footprints and now this? What the hell is going on? Just as abruptly as it started; it suddenly stopped. I have no idea where the commotion originated and it was over so quickly that I had no time to investigate. Luckily, it didn’t rouse my kid but then he could sleep through a national disaster.
I wandered back to my room and turned on the television. No way would I get any sleep after what just happened. I wasn’t afraid just extremely curious about the whole incident. I spent almost the entire evening trying to make sense of it all. There had to be a reasonable explanation for everything that occurred. I just needed to come up with a viable answer.
A conversation I had with my son a few weeks earlier resonated with me at that moment. He wanted to sleep in my room and his excuse was he heard weird noises at night. He was obviously frightened even though he wouldn’t admit it. At the time, I didn’t believe him. It was a new place and I just assumed he needed to get used to sleeping in a room by himself again. He’d grown accustomed to having a roommate over the last year and a half. Now, he was on his own like he’d been for the majority of his eleven years.
I gently enlightened him about the joys and pains of apartment living since this was his first experience. His entire life up until six months ago had been spent in a house and we lived far enough from our neighbors that we couldn’t hear their conversations, music, or anything else for that matter. Boy, do I miss that privacy. When living in such close proximity to others we’re bound to hear a lot, I expounded. He didn’t seem to accept my rationalization but I didn’t buy his either. We were even.
Daylight streamed into my window much too prematurely the following day. I’d dosed off for about an hour and was utterly exhausted. I gradually dragged myself out of the comfort of my bed and headed to the bathroom. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and shook my head. I looked like death warmed over. No amount of makeup could cover the bags and circles under my eyes. I turned the water on and leaned my head down into the sink to wash my face. The unexpected sound of voices coming from the bedroom stunned me into action and I rushed back in. I stared at the television like the magic of how it came on would reveal itself in those few seconds. I gazed over at my nightstand. The remote was exactly where I’d left it the night before. I don’t have an automatic timer so who turned it on? I anxiously reached for the device and hastily turned it off. It was like the longer I left the television on the more sinister it became. I noticed my hand was shaking. I shrugged it off as fatigue and tried not to question this new inexplicable situation. I couldn’t help myself though. Perhaps my neighbor has a cable box like mine and his remote turned on my television. Yeah that’s it. Never mind the fact that it hadn’t happened prior to all the other unusual stuff taking place. And never mind the reality of him getting up everyday an hour and a half later than me. I know his routine just as well as my own.
There are no such things as ghosts. There are no such things as ghosts. Maybe if I said it twice, it would make me feel better. Uh…no. I’m just going to go with my initial justification – it was the neighbor’s remote. That was a good enough excuse as anything else. It’s not like I could call my friends and say hey, some strange things are going on in my apartment; what would you do? First, they’d all laugh hysterically and call me nuts. Second, they’d tell me I’ve watched one too many horror films and that it was finally getting to my head. They all think I’m crazy anyway for liking these types of movies…I would just be proving them right with this tale. And forth, only after I insisted that these events were real, they’d tell me to get the hell out…asap.
Black people don’t play with ghosts…the end. No blood on the walls, no objects moving on their own, no possessed kids, no zombies, no vampires, no Jason, no Freddie, no Michael…nada. And definitely not spirits telling us to leave immediately because guess what…we would. We don’t need to know why the house is possessed or by whom. We don’t care. If it makes no sense we’re not going to stick around and wait for it to get more intense. That’s why black people never make it to the closing credits in horror movies. Kill us first because we’re not foolish enough to see how it concludes even if that means leaving behind friends and loved ones. lol
If I lived with Damien, I would have done what my mom did when I was a kid with our dogs. #dontjudge I’d take Damien out for a long drive to the boonies and leave him somewhere on the side of the road. Of course, he’d find his way back like most of the dogs did but the difference would be Damien’s temper. He’d be pissed and kill everyone. I’m not advising you to take your kids for a ride but I do know a couple of children that might need to be checked for three 6’s. Just saying.
The minute Regan’s head spun around in The Exorcist and that green stuff flew out of her mouth, I would have been on the phone with child services telling them to come get her. Priest my ass…she would have been put up for adoption. When the courts asked why, my answer would have been simple…she was yelling obscenities, elevating, and she had the nerve to spit at me. Nuff said.
That’s why in recent movies those evil little kids have come from orphanages because their parents were like me; come get them…now.
This has been a free Black Culture101lesson so if you didn’t know; now you do. You will now be returned to our regularly scheduled program.
If I decided to leave my apartment that would mean breaking my lease and paying a lot of additional money. I couldn’t even contemplate doing that when it could all be a fluke. I guess my friends would take away my black card (and I don’t mean American Express) if they found out I didn’t go. Well, I never was a big fan of watermelon and fried chicken anyway. Uh…and that would be a big lie. I couldn’t even keep a straight face typing that. I just love how this story is brimming with stereotypes. lol But again, I digress.
I was so drained at work it was a miracle I didn’t have my head on the desk. At least it was Friday and my son was going to a friend’s house for a sleepover which meant I could get some much needed rest. When I got home, I cooked dinner, dropped him off, and eventually closed my eyes. I’m an extremely light sleeper and even though I was tired; I tossed and turned all night. My skin tingled; I felt like there were things crawling on me but I refused to acknowledge any paranormal activity. It was nothing more than my active imagination. I was not going to let the supernatural win. Ghosts are not real. None of this is.
The lights in my room flickered unexpectedly and out of nowhere something cold touched my cheek. I instantaneously popped up like a jack in the box. What the hell was that? It felt like someone’s fingers. I heard my name whispered in the distance. It echoed repetitively from the living room. I tentatively hopped out of my bed and followed the reverberation. I turned on the light in the room and the first thing I noticed was that the closet door was wide open. It was definitely closed before I went to bed. I became conscious of the fact that it was also opened the previous night but I assumed my son was the culprit. He wasn’t there with me now so it couldn’t have been him.
Without warning, the room went completely dark. Something grabbed my arm from behind and I turned but nothing was there. I am not afraid. The lights flickered and then came back on along with the television in the bedroom. The volume was so loud it was deafening. It was just a power surge. Nothing more.
I’m an old movie buff so the last channel I watched before I turned the TV off was AMC – American Movie Classics. The movie that was now showing was Ghostbusters. I could hear the theme song playing. Coincidence? I think not. Great, a ghost with a sense of humor. Well, I’m not laughing. I went back into the bedroom and tried to turn down the volume but it kept rising on its own. So I’m battling some entity for the remote control now? Seriously? After the fifth time, I lost it and yelled, “Stop It!”
And just like that, it did. A door slammed, the TV went off, and there was total silence in my apartment again.
I walked back into the living room and realized that the closet door was now closed. That was what I heard shut abruptly. I ambled over and stood directly in front of the door. I took several deep breaths. I put my hand on the doorknob and turned slowly. It squeaked loudly as I cautiously opened it. I peered inside. Nothing. Whew. I released the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Maybe this thing is over.
I haven’t seen any signs of bizarre behavior in the last two weeks but I’m not delusional enough to think it’s disappeared. I guess if it returns, I’ll have to cue the music…“if there’s something strange in your neighborhood, who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!”
Over the music playing in my mind, I could hear obnoxious, menacing laughter. Uh…I think I ain’t afraid of no ghosts? The laughter got louder and creepier. Err…perhaps I need to put Uhaul on speed dial just in case…
