a ghost story from sharon

finally!
people are finally starting to send in their stories of
the strange and unexplained! todays special guest
blog is a pretty creepy ghost story from sharon b.--

here it is;

Todd,

I have to say I love the Perhapanauts. Especially Choopie. He’s endearing, in a creepy kind of way. I’ve no tales of Chupacabra, but if you are interested in a good old fashioned ghost story I believe I’ve got one.

It was the fall of 90 and the spring of 91. It was my first year away at college. I was living on the 10th floor of Indian Tower. Rumor had it that years ago a girl who lived in my room, on my side of the room, had died suddenly. No details were given, but the fact of her death was confirmed by the floor RA. The room was rectangular. My bed was on the short wall with my desk, my roommate’s dresser and her desk on the long wall. The only window was above the head of my roommate’s bed which rested lengthwise on the other short wall. A double closet, my dresser and the door were the last wall. Little things, strange things started happening. The lights would be on when I came home. The chair would be pushed away from the desk. Items on the desk were moved from one side to the other. At first I thought my roommate was absent minded. Then it occurred to me that only my desk was rearranged and only my lamp was on. Why would she be using my desk and my lamp? She insisted otherwise. When the lamp began turning on in the middle of the night, we were both concerned. I started unplugging it before bed, it made no difference. Two or three times a week we would wake up blinded by the light. For the next four months my roommate slept with a pillow over her head. Then it was the radio, my radio. Did I leave it on? Maybe. But not every Thursday in the months of November and December and definitely not on the 60s station. Again I accused my roommate of playing tricks. She laughed saying she would have picked a better station. Then pointed out that on Thursdays she left before me and did not return until after soccer practice, long after my last class.

In February I displayed Valentines on top of my dresser. From an admirer I received one of those jumbo cards, at least two feet tall. This one I placed in the back as not to block the view of the other cards. I can’t count the number of times I found that card and that card alone on the floor. Some would say it was the wind. But anyone who has ever lived in Albany, in February, knows it is much too cold to have the windows open. I experimented with opening the door quickly and slamming it shut. My best attempt at creating wind managed to knock down the little cards, but the big one never budged. The following Saturday I came home early from a party two floors up. When I say early I mean I was among the first to leave. It was about 1am. I’ll admit to having a little buzz, but mostly I was just tired. I was lying in bed just about to drift off to sleep, when I got an overwhelming sensation that I was not alone. But I was alone. My roommate had gone home for the weekend, some family event. So I opened my eyes and glanced around the room which was dimly lit by a full moon. I saw a shadow by my dresser and then the giant Valentine lifted up. It rose slowly, almost cautiously. The card hovered above the dresser until it cleared all the other items. Then as if it had been thrown, the card crashed to the floor & skidded under the bed. At that moment I was very awake and frankly a little annoyed. I had been picking up that card every day, several times a day, for at least a week. I remember speaking out loud. “I understand that you were here first, but I was assigned to this room. And I don’t mind if you want to share this space, but I’d appreciate if you stopped touching my stuff. If you hate the card so much, I’d be happy to put it away.” I picked the card off the floor, placed it in the closet and went back to bed. When I woke in the morning, the card was displayed prominently on my dresser.

The last incident occurred in late May. My roommate & I were both studying for finals. Each of us sat on our beds buried in books & notebooks. Besides the rustling of pages turning the room was still. Suddenly the chair at my desk began rocking. The base was made of aluminum and shaped like a three sided square. It made loud clanking sounds as it moved against the cement floor pushing away from the desk. Then the door creaked as it opened a little wider. My roommate meekly asked if I had kicked the chair. From her view point it was clear that no matter how I stretched my feet could not reach. After a long moment of silence I said “maybe she went to get a drink or to use the restroom”. Two days later my tests were over & I went home. I attended that school for another year & a half, living with the same girls, but in a different dorm. Nothing weird ever happened again.

Hope you enjoyed my tale!
Sharon

thanks so much sharon, great story!!

anybody else?

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complaints, whatever to
todd@perhapanauts.com