Darkfire75
Runner up for Most Frightening '03
My Encounter with the Paranormal
By Darkfire75
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Okay, look, I know Sapphire already wrote a story that was something like this, but well, this one is a little more…I don’t know…nerve-wracking. KewlGurl is in this fic as well. Also, some of the dates are wrong. I forgot them, 'cause my mom threw out my old spiral where all the info was. Anyway, hope you like ghost stories!
I don’t remember the exact date, but I know that I was in seven grade when my first "ghost experience" happened. My best friend, Erin (KewlGurl to you people), was over my house. We were watching some of those stupid "Real Scary Stories" episodes on TV.
One of the episodes had this woman who used these two sticks to find spirits. If they crossed, it automatically meant that a ghost was there. Now, Erin and I picked up the pool sticks and began playing around with them in my cellar. I was over by my father’s drums, when the sticks crossed.
Now, this scared me at first. I felt a strange feeling in my upper arms and I stuttered to Erin, "E-Erin, t-they crossed." She quickly came over to see. My little brother came over and screamed. He ran upstairs and didn’t come back down.
Erin and I decided to try the stick thing again. We did it all around the cellar and every time the sticks crossed. We decided to go upstairs and try it. I opened my closet (which is scary, in my opinion). I stood in the entrance holding the sticks apart.
It took a few moments, but I felt the pulling sensation in my arms again. I resisted to let them cross, but the force grew heavy and they eventually crossed completely. I called for my mother, but she didn’t believe me. I told her that I felt some strange force inside the closet. Erin agreed and my brother stayed in his room.
The next place we went, was the backyard. I figured that if there was a ghost here, it might have a stronger force outside. So we took the sticks out with us. I checked all around the yard. They crossed right in the middle of the yard. Erin gasped.
"What if there’s a dead body below us?" she wondered. Okay, that’s not exactly what she said, but it’s been a long time since this happened, so work with me.
Not wanting to see anymore, we rushed inside and ran downstairs. My brother owns this little chalkboard that his teacher gave him and as Erin and I walked over to the computer, we saw, quite messy and clear the words on the board "HELP". Well, I don’t have to tell you how scared we were. There had been no one downstairs. My parents and brother were all upstairs and that word had not been there before.
I quickly looked at it and realized that the writing was very messy, like ghost handwriting. The "H" was fairly normal. The "e" was lower case and it looked like a balloon on a string. The "l" was normal, but the "p" curved in a way that I knew no one in my house could have done. To take our minds off the "ghost", Erin and I began to type on the computer.
That’s not all, folks. The weirdest stuff began on the next day at school. During Reading class, Erin was holding her pen a different way. She held the tip and I noticed that in her Vocabulary book the words "HELP ME" were written. She stared at me.
I decided to try the same thing. It was frightening at first to feel the spirit’s hand on mine. The pen began, ever so slowly, to form the letters "HELP." I kept my fear inside me. The teacher wasn’t paying attention, so I continued. The next second I knew, the word "ME" had been spelled. During Science class, I decided to try and contact the ghost. I held the pen in my hand over my spiral.
I closed my eyes, because Erin said to. I felt something grip the pen and my hand tightly and make the pen write. Again, the words "HELP ME" appeared. I decided to ask it a question.
I wrote down: "What is your name?"
I grabbed the pen and set it on the paper. Right underneath the question, in messy handwriting, came a message. When I opened my eyes again, a name was spelled out before me. It was "ARTHUR LHULP". I was terrified and excited at the same time.
I then asked: "Are you bad or nice?"
I was relieved when he replied "NICE".
The next question I asked was: "When were you born?"
Now, I got a strange answer the first time. He said "1196" and I knew that was impossible. So then I asked: "How old are you?"
He said: "58." Then it suddenly switched to "85". So then I realized that his birth date was wrong. Again I asked: "When were you born?"
Arthur said: "JULY 17, 1679."
Okay, that was weird. I then asked: "When did you die?"
He said: "SEPTEMBER 25, 1758."
I then asked: "How did you die?"
He gave me a brief description. "WIFE MARTHA KILLED ME IN LIVING ROOM WITH KNIFE."
I asked why she killed him. He responded: "BECAUSE I WAS CHEATING ON HER."
Okay, how can an 85-year-old man cheat on his wife? I didn’t ask that, but I wanted to. I asked who he was seeing and he mentioned a name, which I can’t remember at the moment. I think it was "Molly" or something like that. Anyway, this scared me.
See, there were these people that lived in my house before me. They moved to Florida when my dad bought the house. I asked Arthur: "Why didn’t you contact the other people?"
He said: "BECAUSE THEY DID NOT BELIEVE." Well, that made sense. I found out that he had been a miner and a father to three children. He told me that his wife buried him in the backyard of his house. It all seemed very gruesome. I really wanted to check the name "Lhulp" at the cemetery across the street, but my parents forbade it.
So I talked to Arthur all through the rest of the school year. He told me his favorite color, what he looked like, and if he was there or not. It was really quite interesting. Then I asked him if he was trapped. He said he was, and so I begged my mother to call an exorcist.
She yelled and screamed at me to stop this none sense. She thought I needed a therapist. I said, "Fine, bring me to a therapist. Let them figure out my sanity."
I secretly asked Arthur to tell me the address of an exorcist. He wrote, if I remember correctly, "NEW YORK." He gave me a street and a phone number. I longed to call the number, just to see if it was real. Erin and I played around with his mind as well. We asked him if he could tell the future and read our minds.
He read Erin’s mind quickly and she was astonished. He told me who I would be marrying once I was older. That, I thought, was weird. One night, right before I would go back to school on Monday, I saw a ghostly, white figure float, not walk, FLOAT by my window. At first I thought it was a dream. I went to the window slowly and gazed into the night.
I was scared to death. Had I just seen Arthur float by my window?
The next day, Erin told me that she had a dream about Arthur talking to her. Then, when she woke up, she saw his ghostly stature looming over her. I freaked out. While she was over again, I clearly saw something in my wall in my room.
I looked in the mirror and saw, grinning at me with a top hat, suit, and bow tie, Arthur. His face was in my wall and he was grinning or smiling at me. He had a top hat on along with a bow tie and a formal suit. Erin told me that was exactly what he looked like when she saw him. Well, the school year ended quickly.
Erin and I soon forgot about Arthur. We grew too distant and he began to dislike us, until he finally scribbled down "I DON’T LIKE YOU."
I asked why. He said: "BECAUSE YOU HAVE NOT CALLED EXORCIST."
I felt horrible. But it was true. He hated us now. Erin still tells me that she sometimes writes in her sleep. I often say it’s Arthur. Besides, she’s got a haunted house right across from her own house. Arthur once told us the name of the ghost woman that dwells in it.
Even now, as I wrote this, I asked Arthur a simple question. He said, as usual, "WHY?"
I repeated the question, but he seemed to get angrier. Then he wrote "I HATE YOU." That scares me to know that a ghost, supposedly friendly, hates me. I don’t feel safe at this moment and I don’t think I ever will. Arthur still remains in my house, although I never speak with him. I was afraid that he would throw something at me, like one ghost did to another kid. If I had a Talking Board, as people call them, maybe I could have gotten more answers, but I didn’t. I hope no one was too…frightened of this. Erin and I still can’t get Arthur out of our minds.
When I had known Arthur, I never missed a ghost show on TV. Now, they’re a thing of the past. I don’t care for ghosts anymore. They terrify me still and I believe in them, but I don’t wanna still believe that there’s one inside my house, watching my every move…
~Darkfire75