On November
19, 2012, a ghost impersonated my wife’s voice and haunted me in my own
home. Yes, it is true. But let me give you the full story…
I was home
alone on a Monday afternoon. My wife
Sarah was about twenty minutes away at her day job, while I was doing computer work for an apparel
company I recently started. I had just
received new product samples, and needed to take pictures for the website. However, I faced a problem. I did not have a high quality camera to use,
and needed one desperately. Being
religious, I offered a prayer and asked God to help me find access to a high
quality camera. About fifteen minutes
later, my cousin Mark, who lives in the front part of my duplex, knocked on my
door. He wanted to show me his new, high
quality camera! As you can imagine, I
was stunned and promptly rejoiced. Together,
we took the ten second walk to his side of the duplex where he showed me some
of the awesome features of his new toy. Because
of his kind nature, I was not surprised when he said I could use the camera for
my company needs. I was so excited and
grateful. Don’t worry, this information is
important to remember for later.
After about
ten minutes of talking with Mark, I left and walked back to my house. I then realized it was time to go to the gym,
but I needed some food-fuel first. Time
for a pre-workout PB & J! With new
life inside me, I briskly entered my living domain and headed straight for the
kitchen. I remember noticing how dark
the house had gotten. Crazy how quickly
the sun goes down this time of the year.
Anyway, the house was absolutely dead quite, and I was still alone. Or so I thought.
Now in the kitchen, with my back facing the shadowed
hallway, I started to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The light from the kitchen seemed to make the
strawberry jam sparkle with awesomeness.
What a beautiful sight to behold!
Okay, so maybe I was just hallucinating due to the giddy feelings of happiness
and astonishment from the whole camera situation. Regardless, the sandwich was looking super good to my hungry eyes. I can still feel the saliva pooling up in my mouth.
Anyways,
this part of the story now forces me to reveal a personal habit that some would
consider to be embarrassing. But it is a habit that becomes an important key to the haunting that will soon take place. The habit is this: I often talk
to myself out loud when I am alone. Yes,
that is correct. No shame. And like the ever wise Professor Dumbledore
from Harry Potter once said regarding this very same habit, “I find it
extraordinarily useful.” Like good ol’
Dumby, I too find it useful to express my feelings through the spoken word, and
I indeed had some powerful feelings of joy to express in that moment. So, without surprise, I said to myself out
loud while thinking about the camera,
“What an
answer to prayers.”
The words echoed throughout the lonely house
for only me to hear. But then suddenly,
the voice of someone else floated into my ears from off in the distance. A faint, high-pitched voice that seemed to
repeat exactly what I had just said, but in question form,
“What,
is an answer to prayers?” The voice
asked.
Confused and
a bit startled, I tried to make sense of what I thought I just heard. But I could not pin point from where the sound
originated, nor was I certain as to what was actually said. Even stranger still, was that the voice sounded very
much like one of the many voices my wife does. I looked around in confusion. I found myself in unchanged solitude; totally
alone. No wife in sight. Of course not. Sarah was still at work, and would not get
off until 5pm. The microwave clock read
4:27pm. Considering the drive through
rush hour traffic, it would be at least another hour before she got home. Ok, so
it is obviously not Sarah. I then thought
it was the next door neighbor’s kids yelling like they always do when they play
in their back yard. That would explain
the faintness of the voice and the high-pitch frequency. Yes of
course, I thought. And, if it was
the kids next door, then more yelling is a guarantee, and will be the
supporting evidence I need to rest the case.
I paused to listen for the continuation of children’s voices; but
nothing. No yells. No cries.
The neighbor’s kids were definitely not outside. This realization ushered into my dazed
mind a third possibility. A scary
thought that, at first, I only half-way took seriously. A ghost
could be impersonating my wife! A
couple hairs stood up on the back of my neck, but I chuckled out loud at the
same time. A ghost! Haha. What a joke. I remember smiling as I spread another glob
of strawberry jam onto my honey wheat bread.
In attempt to entertain the idea, I then humorously thought: okay, if it is a ghost playing around with
me; trying to scare me by repeating the things I say, then it will surely do it
again. Right? Thinking I was being clever,
and would outsmart the ghost or make it feel stupid, I then repeated the same
words, in a louder tone than the first time,
“What an
answer to prayers!” I loudly exclaimed.
I
then paused. With a sarcastic smirk on my
face and butter knife in hand hovering over the unfinished peanut butter
sandwich, I waited for a response. About
three full seconds passed, and no voice sounded. In that moment I was convinced that my ears
simply misinterpreted an outside noise, causing my brain to temporarily freak
out. But life was good again, and
everything made sense. I then broke the
silence by confidently and humorously mumbling under my breath,
“That’s what
I thought dumb spirit!” I finished.
Literally
right after I said these words, the unthinkable happened. To my uttermost horror, the high-pitched
voice came back! And with a vengeance,
it practically yelled,
“WHAT is an answer to prayers?!!!!”
I instantly
jumped, my heart about stopped, and my hands clumsily smashed onto the tops of
the two bread slices. With peanut butter
and strawberry jam on my shaking knuckles, I urgently turned my head to where
the voice came from, which was definitely inside the house. It was also clear that the voice was my wife’s. No doubt about it. But she
is not home! She can’t be! I looked at the microwave clock again, which
read 4:29pm. She gets off work at 5pm! And if
she ever leaves early, she sends a notification text message. These thoughts and more raced through my
panicked brain. I frantically searched my
most recent memories, hoping to catch a glimpse of her gray, Chevy Malibu in
the driveway; but nothing. My car was
the only one there when I walked back from Marc’s.
My terrified
eyes were now fixed on the black hallway, which led to the source of the voice:
our bedroom. Absolutely no lights were
on at that end of the house. And so the “pep
talk” within my head began: Okay Kyle,
there is very possibly a ghost in your house that is crudely impersonating your
wife. And it is in her bedroom. Be brave…BE BRAVE! Now, go investigate!
At that
point, I was still only teasing the idea of a ghost actually impersonating my wife,
but was also beginning to accept the possibility. Still not convinced though. With a quick effort to swallow my fear, I
started down the long, dark hallway and towards our bedroom. I passed the closet on the right, then the
bathroom on the left. Finally, I arrived
at the closed bedroom door; exactly how I left it. One last hopeful thought insisted that it
could be my wife Sarah. It is possible that, for some crazy reason,
she is home. A sense of comfort
swept over me as I considered and hoped for this potential scenario. But I was still cautious.
In most
scary movies I have seen, in this kind of situation the victims always open the
squeaky door slowly, and force you to endure the painful anticipation. No way was I about to do that. Heck freaking no! So, with a sweaty grip I clenched the door
knob and about broke the door down with a quick burst. What
the…?! All hope that Sarah was the source
of the haunting was chased away by an empty, dark room! I scanned the area for any signs of life…or…or
for signs of death; you know, the potential
ghost that was impersonating my wife. Sarah
was nowhere to be found. My heart rate
dramatically increased, and I was now truly on edge. What is
going on?! The prospect of an actual ghost in the house seemed more
believable than ever. I decided to
investigate the remaining rooms.
I turned
around and started to tip toe back through the darkness of the hallway (still
not sure why I didn’t turn on the lights).
Right as I walked in front of the bathroom door, the high-pitch voice
thundered from the other side and unloaded a long string of words that I could
not understand. In that moment, I felt a
powerful, Justin Bieber quality scream of sheer terror erupting from within me,
but somehow I managed to suppress it. I
about completely fell over, and almost unloaded in my pants. What followed was my wife’s hysterical laughter.
The haunting
nightmare was at an end. Turns out that
my dear, sweet, and harmless wife Sarah was, in fact, home and sitting on the
toilet. Yes, it was actually Sarah; not
a ghost. But how? This is what happened:
Sarah got off work early; forgot to text me; arrived home
during the ten minute window when I was at Marc’s; zoomed to the bathroom, for
obvious reasons, and did not bother to turn on the hallway light; and I did not
notice her car in the driveway, because I was distracted by the excitement of
the camera. One would say it was the
perfect storm.
Of course, I
was a little bit angry by the needless fear, but also extremely happy that
there was not a ghost impersonating my wife after all. My wife is very special to me, and if any
ghost ever tried to disrespect her through impersonation, I would punch it in
the face! After I scream like a
girl.
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