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Author: Deborah J. Hughes
Nowadays there are paranormal investigators in just about every town! There seems to be a wide-spread growing fascination for “the other side”. It’s not so strange that so many of us are intrigued by such a thing…why wouldn’t we be interested in a “place” (more a sphere of existence than a place) where every single one of us will eventually end up? Honestly, I don’t understand why there hasn’t been more widespread interest before now. Interacting with the spirit world should be a NORMAL thing to do, not a PARAnormal freak thing!! What better comfort are we going to get when we lose a loved one to “death” than to speak to them once they’ve “crossed over” (a common term used to describe the transition from physical to spiritual existence)? What else is going to ease the pain of loss than KNOWING that our departed loved ones are “alive” and well and HAPPY? Seriously!
My paranormal adventures began when I moved into a haunted house when I was seven. It took us a while to figure out what was going on. Being the oldest of five kids, I was often blamed for the lights being on when my parents specifically remembered turning them off, or for leaving the doors open when they were supposed to be closed. Now, I have to tell you, no WAY would I have felt safe going to bed (in my tween years I was often the last one to go to bed) with the front, cellar and barn doors wide open! Our house had a huge old barn attached to it (a great place to play during the day, terrifying at night). As for the cellar…all of us kids were afraid of it. There was a room down in that dark, dank place that looked just like a vaulted tomb! I think bodies used to be put in there until they could be buried. I tell you, for the first five years or so of living there (up until we realized that otherworldly entities were the culprits), the five of us kids got blamed for most of the ghosts’ shenanigans. I can’t tell you how often we were called to the carpet because of something that had gone missing (Dad’s tools, mom’s things). When you live in a haunted house…a LOT of things go missing. I have to wonder about this. Why? What use could a ghost have for our physical objects? Where do the things go? SOMETIMES we’d find them in some out-of-the-way place that wasn’t even logical for them to be and most times? Never seen again. Why, I remember one time when my parakeet (cage and all!) went missing for a whole freaking week! Then one day, it just showed up…food and water dishes full, cage clean (do you know how messy a parakeet is?) and as for the bird, well he looked fat and happy. What the heck? Where on earth did he go for that week he went missing?
My father often got blamed for the times our poor terrorized dog went crazy. Since we didn’t know about the ghosts, it seemed logical that it had to be his fault whenever we saw poor little Tippy go running off yelping in fear, tail between his legs, ears flat, and eyes flashing with terror. As for the house, well the constant cold was blamed on the fact that it was an old building. No matter that when it was 90 degrees outside (very hot for Maine!), the house would be cold enough to warrant a sweater! The electric appliances going crazy…turning on or off at will…was blamed on the wiring. Really, those first few years, there was a LOT of blaming going on. It wasn’t a great situation for our family to endure. The negative energy in that house was terrible. I hated all seven years that I lived there. The night we moved out, I had never felt so relieved in my life. BUT (there’s always a “but”) that very same evening while my brother and I sat together in the living room watching television and enjoying the fearless feeling of being in a ghost-free house, the dang blender on the kitchen counter came on full blast!! Dadgum ghosts…you can’t get rid of them. They are literally everywhere!... continues
Copyright©Deborah J. Hughes
Reproduced courtesy of Deborah J. Hughes
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