In the early 90's I left the army and lived with a friend. He was a good guy who always loved a good joke. He was tall and thin with long hair (that's important). We moved into a one bedroom directly behind Houston's Hollywood Cemetary. He slept in the bedroom and I took the couch because I always got up before him for work.
About a month or so living there, I wake up to him standing over me in the dark. I assume he is trying to scare me and tell him, its late and he should go F-Off. Thes next morning I read him the riot act. "Don't bother me when Im sleeping. Jokes are fine but not when Im trying to sleep". He insists he didn't do anything and Im just delusional. It happens again a few nights later. Hes just standing there in the dark looking at me. I flip him off and turn over and go back to sleep. Next morning again I confront him and tell him I going to give him a sound thrashing if it happens again. He swears its not him and that Im having nightmares or something. A day or two later I wake up again to him standing there. Now Im pissed. I sit up and yell,"punk bitch didn't I tell you to stop fckin with me?" From the bedroom I hear his voice. "Sesh? what are you yelling about? Are you ok?". Without missing a beat I yell back, "Yea, but you in here...." As I trail off Kenny comes thru the bedroom door. We both are looking at a silhouette of a woman standing between us. We screamed like little school girls. the spirit or whatever she was just evaporated away as we watched and screamed.
We both sat up drinking coffee and talked about what happened. I skipped work and we talked until we fell asleep. That was the first time I knew I was not crazy or dreaming things up.
Reddit user
u/SESHPERANKH
No comments:
Post a Comment