Boring alert - I got nothing. Today was a mind fuck but not in a good way. I went from checking out a potential new art space to work meeting to the emergency room to work meeting to porch to the haunted house. So here I sit waiting for the ghosts to start messing with me, but nothing. I've even managed to bore them. I didn't bring my laundry and I already did all the work stuff I brought to do. I zipped up things on my virtual farm which is possibly the most embarrassing I could have ever admitted. And I don't even care. I'm numb. There's no way I'm looking up anything questionable on my boss's computer and, anyway, I'm not in the mood. I guess I'll go back to finger weaving stupid scarves no one wants pretty soon because it's totally mindless and it helps me feel like I'm accomplishing something. I can't drug myself into sleep or drink until I pass out because I'm in charge of another human all night. I tried to sleep because I am so so tired but my brain is a dumb jerk and is all:
Hey, don't forget that your brother-in-law is dying. That he is in pain that is unimaginable all the time even though he smiles and says he's okay. Don't forget that he has to fight against his body to breath. Think about your sister who has had so much pain and hardship piled on to her over and over for years. Think of her son, your precious little Z-man, spending his golden birthday in a terrible place he shouldn't even be. How about Michael? Your sister's twin and your hilarious big-mouth brother who died nearly 14 years ago - that day is coming right up. Worry, worry that your brother-in-law goes on Z-man's birthday in two days or on the anniversary of Michael's death a week later. Yeah, worry about that one even more. Worry that this 36 year-old-man who has laughed every day of his life and took such great care of your sister might live 9 more days in pain, tired, and just wanting rest but holding on because he wants to comfort us. Doesn't want to hurt us. And if that's not enough to think about, worry about crap that is actually arbitrary, like how you're bringing people down being all sad and deep and scared and stupid. Worry about your mind breaking again like it did 14 years ago. About losing all your friends, your job, your apartment, your ambition. Imagine that the panic attacks come back and you get depressed or, worse, super mean again and ruin everything good that you have.
So, yeah, I'm going to go finger weave the ugliest fuggin' "scarf" I can with two entire wads of yarn and watch Married With Children until the sun comes up.
Pleasant dreams, everyone.
Showing posts with label Ghosts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ghosts. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Thursday, August 8, 2013
It's Official - Not Falling Asleep Tonight
I'm babysitting overnight for a child that I recently quit taking care of on a daily basis. Once a job is over, you tend to forget certain things about it; for instance, just how terrifically fucking haunted this house is. And then there's the dogs.
In the beginning, on the occasions that I spent the night here, the Boss Mother would insist I sleep in her room. I tried that first night...for about 12 seconds. The rest of the nights I just messed up her bed and made sure I was awake and had put away the blankets I used on the couch before she'd get home. I finally had to tell her that I couldn't figure out how to work her TV so I was just going to stay downstairs. I can't sleep in that room and here's why: Besides the fact that there is an old-timey spinning wheel, prison tower style, in the corner and that all surfaces and windows are covered with white lacy stuff, there is a wardrobe with a mirrored door in there. It's like an exact copy of one that I saw on one of those TV shows where people recount their experiences with ghosts and demons and all other type of shit that will straight ruin your night brain forever. The wardrobe in the show had been in a little boy's room and he started getting freaky and violent and scared about "The Dark Man in the Mirror" and all this other blizz. They had to get rid of it in the end before their kid got his shit back together. Apparently, Boss Mother bought it not knowing the real history - but I will not be fooled. No muthafuckin' way am I sleeping in a room with a cursed mirror that is possibly a gateway to demonville. Also, when you're downstairs at night, her bedroom is where all the creepy-ass pacing noises come from. So, yeah, no thanks.
HOLY MOTHER OF CRAP! THIS IS TRUE AND JUST HAPPENED. I'M ABOUT TO POOP MY PANTS. The girl, let's call her Penelope, just called my name softly, at first I thought it was the other voice I heard earlier when it became apparent that I was not going to fall asleep, but it was Penny. She called my name again and I went to stand by the stairs. She was leaning over the side and said, "I just had ghost dream. It said, 'Get out' or 'Help me' or something. Can I go sleep in my mom's room? The mean ghosts don't live in there." Ummmm....what?! Seriously. I've got 2.5 hours to go and I don't know if I can make it.
I was going to write about all the other shady business that goes on here, like the landline doing a punctuated half ring sometimes, or the basement door opening forcefully and randomly, or the dogs barking madly at nothing, and how Penny ALWAYS talks in her sleep to people who are dead (there are A LOT of dead people this kid knows for only being 10), and the grandfather clock that Boss Mother said hasn't worked in 15 years chimes sometimes when I'm here. And the fucking voices! I can't understand the words but there are at least three different voices. The one that really gets me is the giggling girl who seems to answer Penny when she talks in her sleep - only her voice comes from the basement instead of upstairs. I wish I wasn't so totally broke because I'd have said hell no to an overnight shift.
I've heard that I'm supposed to verbally acknowledge entities like this because they're not all bad and all they want is someone to notice them. I can't do it. I'm too chicken shit. In fact, I better stop typing now in case they can read and I'm offending them. I'm going to see how many channels Chef Ramsey is on right now and try not to piss myself.
Maybe someday I'll write about the idiot dogs that live here.
In the beginning, on the occasions that I spent the night here, the Boss Mother would insist I sleep in her room. I tried that first night...for about 12 seconds. The rest of the nights I just messed up her bed and made sure I was awake and had put away the blankets I used on the couch before she'd get home. I finally had to tell her that I couldn't figure out how to work her TV so I was just going to stay downstairs. I can't sleep in that room and here's why: Besides the fact that there is an old-timey spinning wheel, prison tower style, in the corner and that all surfaces and windows are covered with white lacy stuff, there is a wardrobe with a mirrored door in there. It's like an exact copy of one that I saw on one of those TV shows where people recount their experiences with ghosts and demons and all other type of shit that will straight ruin your night brain forever. The wardrobe in the show had been in a little boy's room and he started getting freaky and violent and scared about "The Dark Man in the Mirror" and all this other blizz. They had to get rid of it in the end before their kid got his shit back together. Apparently, Boss Mother bought it not knowing the real history - but I will not be fooled. No muthafuckin' way am I sleeping in a room with a cursed mirror that is possibly a gateway to demonville. Also, when you're downstairs at night, her bedroom is where all the creepy-ass pacing noises come from. So, yeah, no thanks.
HOLY MOTHER OF CRAP! THIS IS TRUE AND JUST HAPPENED. I'M ABOUT TO POOP MY PANTS. The girl, let's call her Penelope, just called my name softly, at first I thought it was the other voice I heard earlier when it became apparent that I was not going to fall asleep, but it was Penny. She called my name again and I went to stand by the stairs. She was leaning over the side and said, "I just had ghost dream. It said, 'Get out' or 'Help me' or something. Can I go sleep in my mom's room? The mean ghosts don't live in there." Ummmm....what?! Seriously. I've got 2.5 hours to go and I don't know if I can make it.
I was going to write about all the other shady business that goes on here, like the landline doing a punctuated half ring sometimes, or the basement door opening forcefully and randomly, or the dogs barking madly at nothing, and how Penny ALWAYS talks in her sleep to people who are dead (there are A LOT of dead people this kid knows for only being 10), and the grandfather clock that Boss Mother said hasn't worked in 15 years chimes sometimes when I'm here. And the fucking voices! I can't understand the words but there are at least three different voices. The one that really gets me is the giggling girl who seems to answer Penny when she talks in her sleep - only her voice comes from the basement instead of upstairs. I wish I wasn't so totally broke because I'd have said hell no to an overnight shift.
I've heard that I'm supposed to verbally acknowledge entities like this because they're not all bad and all they want is someone to notice them. I can't do it. I'm too chicken shit. In fact, I better stop typing now in case they can read and I'm offending them. I'm going to see how many channels Chef Ramsey is on right now and try not to piss myself.
Maybe someday I'll write about the idiot dogs that live here.
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