As most or all of you know, I waver in my beliefs between agnostic and atheist, but lean more in the atheist direction. Therefore, I have been holding off on writing this particular post for quite a while. Not out of fear of being ridiculed (because I'm quite used to that,) but because I have a hard time making my beliefs correspond to my experiences. Finally, I decided "the hell with it, this is interesting," and started to type (which is what I'm doing now.)

In December of 2006, I moved into a small rental house. One bedroom, one long, extremely narrow bathroom, a small kitchen and dining area, and a living room that was long enough to bowl in. I'm not kidding.It was insane the way this house was laid out. In any event, it was well within my budget, the landlord was a good friend of mine, and it was conveniently located. It also had a enormous backyard, perfect for throwing the types of outdoor parties that I love so much. A Turkey fry, Low-Country Boil, or Pig Pickin', just to name a few.

In short, it seemed like the perfect location for me. I settled in, and nothing unusual (other than drunken debauchery) happened for a bit. One night, I woke up, certain that I had heard footsteps, starting in the side yard and continuing up the steps to the front door. I peeked out of the window, but nothing was to be seen. This would happen more and more frequently over time, and I just got used to the sound and ignored it. One night some friends were in town to visit nearby relatives and stayed at my house. I had a futon that expanded into a queen size mattress when laid flat. Kelly had long since been asleep while Ian and I sat up playing video games. We finally called it a night and turned in, me to my bedroom, and Ian to the futon.

I woke up the next morning and walked out to the living room, to find Ian and his wife Kelly in a discussion. It seems that Ian had taken off his shirt and pants, thrown them over a chair, and gone to bed. When he woke up, they were neatly folded on the chair. He assumed Kelly had done it, she insisted that she had not. He then asked me if I had folded his clothes. Hell, I don't even fold my own clothes. That's what Melissa is for (kidding, just kidding.) One more odd circumstance in the house, but I didn't think too much of it.

A few weeks later, I had an oyster roast at my house. Kyle and Brett had a bit much to drink, so they stayed at my house on the couches. I had also had too much to drink, so I stayed at my house in my bed. The next morning, one of the two of them (I can't remember which one it was. All white people look alike to me,) asked me why I was walking around the house all night. I hadn't left my room all night, as there was a Perfect Strangers marathon on TV Land. Not really, but I still hadn't left my room.

A month or so later I moved out. Not because I was driven off by demons from the netherworld, but because Kyle and I bought a house together and began our current stint as Domestic Life Partners. About two months ago, my old landlord, Guy, called me. He vaguely remembered me telling him about the footsteps in the middle of the night. Honestly, I had forgotten that I mentioned it to him. It turns out that his current tenant was having the same sort of experiences, except they frightened her greatly. The more scared she became, the more intense the occurrences. It went from footsteps to feeling a presence next to her bed, to feeling as if she was being held down on the bed. She claimed that this presence was also causing her to have terrible nightmares and she feared for her safety.

The most interesting part of this is that I had never spoken to Erica about my experiences at that house, and Guy had forgotten that I mentioned them to him until Erica brought it up. On the other hand, I have met Erica, and she is a bit, well, overdramatic. I have also heard scientific explanations of "being held down" by ghosts while you sleep, such as sleep paralysis. While I'm not sure what I believe about the existence of spirits, I do know that I always felt 100% safe in that house. In fact, I considered buying it at one point.

Another event that happened Sunday night kind of spooked me. Brian has always maintained that the Village Idiot is haunted. Not by malevolent forces, though. In fact, he is fairly convinced that he has it narrowed down to one of two regulars who have passed away in the past few years. Whoever it is, they just sometimes make their presence know by turning on the water, or voices in an otherwise empty bar after closing. I had never experienced this until Sunday night.

I was standing by the oven, when I distinctly heard a man's voice that I didn't recognize over my right shoulder say "You've gotta be kidding me!" When I turned around, there was no one there. The closest person to me was E-Rock, and he was about twelve feet in front of me. Later, at about 10:30, I was the only person left in the kitchen. Suddenly, the oven door fell open with a loud thump. No one had touched it in ten minutes. While this seems like it could be commonplace, let me remind you that I have worked at the Idiot for well over a year, and have never seen this happen. This kind of spooked me, especially after all of the stories Brian has told me about things that have happened with him.

The thing I find the most interesting about all of this? I'm a supernatural skeptic, and all of this is starting to happen around me now when I'm more stressed out than I have been in years, between finances and two jobs. I wonder if it's my nerves playing tricks on me, or some type of vibe that I'm giving off attracting ghostly attention?

One way or the other, I know one thing...I'm ain't 'fraid of no ghosts.

JT out.