Just Imagine

Just Imagine

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Welcome to my blog! Pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee and read what's on my mind. I've a vicious sense of humor, an apprecation for romance and a mad addiction to writing.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

My Victorian. My True Ghost Stories. SEGMENT #2. Chance to Win.

Two days and counting. All Hallows' Eve is nearly upon us and I’ve more ghost stories to share. But first, I’m reminded of one of my favorite historical truths, that being the carving of pumpkins. No matter what anyone tells you, the tradition began with the ancient Celts. Here it is…

The early Pagan Celtic peoples used hollowed out turnips, gourds, or rutabagas to hold an ember from the sacred bonfire, so they could light their home fires from the sacred bonfire.

Why did they every start doing such a thing? Well… "Stingy Jack", who was a swindler and a drunk, asked the devil to have drink with him. Jack convinced the devil to change himself into a coin so he could pay for the drink, but Jack put the coin in his pocket next to a silver cross, which trapped the devil, preventing him from changing himself back. Jack agreed to free the devil on the condition that the devil would not bother Jack for a year.

Next year, Jack tricks the devil into climbing a tree to fetch a piece of fruit. While the devil is up the tree, Jack carves a cross into the trunk, preventing him from climbing back down the tree. In order to get out of the tree, the devil promised Jack not to seek his soul any more. When Jack died, he was not allowed into heaven, because of his drunken and swindling ways, but he was not allowed into hell either, because the devil kept his word. Taking pity on Jack, the devil gave him an ember to light his way in the dark, putting it into a hollowed out turnip for Jack to carry on his lonely, everlasting roamings around the Earth.

People from Ireland and Scotland would make "Jack o'lanterns" during this season to scare away Stingy Jack and other evil spirits wandering about. When many immigrated to the States, they found the pumpkin a much larger and sturdier vegi to carve. (That bit o’ history was in the original version of my Fate’s Monolith *winks*)

If you’re arriving at this blog for the first time, let me fill you in. I’m spending three days sharing with the public things I’ve never divulged. Stories about the paranormal activity I’ve experienced in the Victorian house I’ve lived in for a decade. Why am I sharing now you ask? Well… why not? Either you think I’m crazy or you believe the things I tell you. No matter, these things did happen and I’m ready to share. To check out the first ghost story I told and learn more about my Victorian click HERE.

Alright, the next remarkable event I’d like to share happened in 2006. I like this event because it can be validated. Two people witnessed it. Me and my husband (A skeptic by nature). Again, this happened near the end of the year. My son was two and still in a crib. My husband and I had put him to bed about twenty minutes prior and were downstairs fixing dinner.

We were standing in front of the oven talking when we heard footsteps above. (The kitchen was right beneath his bedroom). At first we thought it must be the cat. Nope. Within a few seconds we clearly heard small feet scampering across the floor above. We looked at the ceiling and frowned. The feet (clearly two small human feet) ran back the other way, as though a child were running around. It happened one more time before my husband and I hightailed it upstairs.

We entered the room to find our son sound asleep.

A few weeks later. Christmas Eve…

I was sitting on the bottom stair to the foyer late at night admiring the Christmas tree. Pretty much lost in thought as we writers have a tendency to do. At last, I headed up to bed. Halfway up the stairs the air cooled considerably. “Someone” passed me on the staircase. That someone was a man and clearly whistling away. Yep, I ran for bed at that point! (I know, I know, he was obviously happy. Still. Creepy.)

Two months later…

Woke up in the middle of the night. My son was crying. I went into his room. He was standing up in his crib. I walked over and soothed him as best I could. He still wasn’t speaking at that point. Regardless, I asked him what was wrong. He raised his arm and pointed at the far corner of the room. I’ll never forget that moment. Every hair on my body stood on edge. I’ll bet you’re wondering if I turned around and looked. Yep. But slowly, like something out of a horror movie. Did I see anything? No. Do I believe children can see things we can’t? Yes. That particular sort of event never happened again, thank God.

Random events…

Nightly occurrence in this house. Always between 10:30 and 11:00. Someone walks across the 3rd floor. Furnished attic. The footsteps are heavy, like a tall or heavyset man. We just tore up the carpets. Original hardwood floors. Louder now!

I was up fairly late one night writing. My husband was up as well working. I finally called it quits and headed for bed. I was about two feet from my bed (Our bedroom is now my sons old bedroom. Remember story of child running around) when I literally bumped into something that was about 3 feet tall. It felt human. Solid. Very much there. I wish I could correctly explain what it feels like bumping into something solid when there is clearly nothing between you and your bed. Yep, in this case I screamed like a girl and went running back to my husband!

Another late night writing tale. It was probably around midnight one night in 2010 when this event happened. My office is on the third floor and at the time, carpeted but creaky stairs regardless. I was typing away when I heard a large dog lumber up the stairs. (Two things of note. Decorative curtains separate the three rooms. We have a 100 lb. German Shepard.) The Shepard wouldn’t be on the third floor unless he was desperate to go out. (bad hip). I instantly went to go to him. Opened the curtain. Nothing. He wasn’t there. I shrugged and went back to my computer. Must have been my imagination.

Started typing away again. Heard my husband trudging up the stairs. All twenty of them. Sounded a bit heavy footed but I figured he’s tired. Must’ve come up looking for something. So I yelled, “Hey hun, everything ok?” No answer. Okay. I heard him walk across the room next to mine. “Hun?” I yelled again, kinda irked he wasn’t responding. Heard him trudge back across the room. Enough, I thought to myself and headed over. Moved the curtain aside. No one was there. Okay, I’m going insane. Headed downstairs. He’s sound asleep in bed. Headed down to the first floor. The dog’s sound asleep too.

Aye, just another night in my Victorian!

I think I’ve rattled on enough for one day. Just wait until tomorrow, Halloween. We started construction on this house a few years ago. Anyone who’s interested in the Paranormal knows exactly what that means. The best stories are yet to come.

Hope you’ll join me as I share what’s been going on in my Victorian lately.

See you then.

Sky

6 comments:

marybelle said...

Loving the stories!!

marypres(AT)gmail(DOT)com

aurora M. said...

I so understand the "creeps" that happen in a old house....I grew up in one and some say I just imagined it all....but I know and I believe.
Thanks for the great post.
veltara(at)yahoo(dot)com

micheal Rivers said...

Now you're talking my language. Love the story. Break out the pen and set down another while I grab a drink and find a chair. "Be the Host to your Ghost"

Sky Purington said...

Thanks, Marybelle! :-)

Sky Purington said...

Gotta love the skeptics, Aurora. I suppose they have to experience it to believe it, eh? Thanks for joining me!

Sky Purington said...

*Grins* Glad you're enjoying the tales, Micheal. Enjoy that drink & Happy Halloween!