i see dead people


It was four in the morning when she woke me.

“They’re there. They wont go away. They’re so mournful and sad.”

Turns out two Edwardian chics were standing in the corner of her room. Crying alot. She could feel their pain. It was killing her. I asked if she was on crack and handed her the bottle of scotch I kept under my bed. She drank it and fell asleep in the floor. The next morning she explained.

“Blah blah blah. I see dead people. Blah blah blah. ”

I was late for class and didn’t care. My flatmate was a flake and I knew it. But I still had to ask.

“What? Like that kid in Sixth Sense?”

“I wont have you belittling my kind.” She said it like she was serious.

“Your kind? What are you, a wookie or something?” I was just kidding. “I’m just kidding.”

She didn’t think it was funny and left.

Two nights later, pretty much the same thing. She tore the front door open, half-ran-half-crawled up the stairs, and started tearing her room apart. This time it was a kid from the seventies. Dead as a doornail, just like the girls in her room. Followed her around all day.

“My crystals! I need my crystals! I cant take this anymore. I have to seal my aura!”

I should have ignored her. She was pretty insane that night. But she was making a mess of her room and I cant stand when people do that. It’s like on Sweet Home Alabama, when Dempsey covers Witherspoon’s apartment with rose petals. She’s looking all happy and I’m like ‘You know you have to clean that up, right’. So I couldn’t just stand by without a word.

Here’s me being clever. “You ever think maybe they just need your help.” You know. Like in the movie.

She screamed at me. “Thats not how it works! Don’t you know anything at all!”

“OK.” Here’s me being cleverer. “Maybe they’re just after you.” You know. Like to GET you.

I made a face when I said it. She passed out. Cold.

Her father collected her later that night. Took her home to their 500 year old manor house where the ghosts were more docile. She came back on Saturday to apologise. Off to Tibet. Something about ancient temples and finding her place in the universe. She would see me in a month. In the meantime she was sorry. She didn’t mean to cause upset. I told her it was ok. I didn’t care about her fits or her ghosts. As long as they stayed out of my room.

I really didn’t.

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3 Comments

  • Trish
    Apr 1, 2006 at 8:59

    “Maybe they’re just after you”

    That’s so MEAN! And yet, I’m laughing! Laughing at the image of her passing out.

    I’m thinking the ghosts left you alone because they just really liked your style.

  • Cranelegs
    Apr 12, 2007 at 17:10

    the last time i saw dead people was on a cruise in alaska. they tended to wear nightgowns and use the elevator and eat gelatinous stuff.

    your fan,
    cranelegs
    http://cranelegspond.blogspot.com/

  • Al
    Apr 12, 2007 at 23:32

    I’m halfway through “Savannah Spectres and Other Strange Tales,” by Margaret Wayt DeBolt. I’m not a “true believer” but if ten percent of the stories have any truth to them, Savannah, Ga., is one spooky city. In her stories, the ghosts are not “after” anybody – usually. My father had a brief encounter with a “presence” when he was a young man in Kentucky, and he was not the kind to make up such stories. If I ever have such an encounter, I will not be laughing.

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