Ghostly Memory. The girl with the voice of 100 trains.

It was around 2004-2005 time frame, I recently moved in with my real father for a short period. I was in middle school and had a newly found girlfriend, we were dating about two weeks at the time so it was getting pretty serious you could say. I was raised in the south (Georgia) and down there you see many old Victorian houses with the wrap porches. Well my father’s house was a mixture of Victorian exterior with the “shotgun” interior. Front door straight to the back door with rooms on each side.

I was laying on the couch in the front left room facing the window, laying some of the sweetest lines I’ve ever heard to my girlfriend. I intensely freeze with fear as I watched a women with black hair and an old style gown laid on top thin shoulder that could cut ice. I wouldn’t use the word “walked” but she more glided from the front of the house around to the side. I was hoping she’d disappear as there one the corner of the house than the windows continued around the house but she didn’t. I was so scared that I could feel my feet starting to burn and tingle.

I believe that was my body was of saying get up and run but my brain locked up and my eyes were the only thing functional at this point. Just as quickly as I heard the door across the hall open I was out in the hallway hoping it was my father looking for me. Not the case, I caught a glimpse of the tail end of a milky white gown slip into the formal dining room as the door seems to close. I could feel the sweat in my lower back at this point but I had to follow, Now there was a door connecting the dining room to the kitchen. As I opened the door to the dining room fully expecting to see something….nothing.

I made my way into the kitchen and there she was the women that I had followed for the last ten second standing on top of the island my dad had installed recently. I can not even begin to describe the terror and adrenaline running through me, I could instantly hear my own heartbeat in my ears. The “fight or flight” action in my body was ripped out and mashed into pieces. We had one of the racks that hold the pots and pans above your head and that’s what this lady was shaking so hard it sounds like four trains were on each side of my head. The tunnel vision was kicking in at this point and I thought I was going to pass out from fear but my father had heard the noise and was shaking my shoulders to knock away the debilitating hold this thing had over me.

Fast forward to 2011, my father sold the house and I kept thinking about that night. I did some research and found out that the building that was there before the house was an old railroad administration building on that section of the land and had caught fire. The girl who worked there during the summer had been found burned to death trying to climb out of the small vent in the roof but it was locked from the top. So maybe that’s why I felt trains around my head or the tunnel vision but I’ll never forget that night and I still can’t be too close to a train station.

Published by S.Oliver

In my opinion, my opinion of me has a inconsistent stable shift based on the amount of entertainment I provide to one idea of who I think I am. Foremost, I am a husband, father, artist. Followed aggressively by being a amateur thought collector and organizer. I often write myself notes of great ideas but forget where I left my notepad. I own an irresponsible amount of notepads and can not keep a pen if my life depended on it. I struggle with caring about correct sentence format (don’t care that I don’t care) and autocorrect is my best friend. I’m not bothered by the correct process because it will hinder my creativity in the most brick wall fashion. I have strong morals and values towards life and believe holding the door for someone will help to step ahead in the line to heaven. I believe a few strong drinks with an intelligent conversationist can out perform any therapist. I’ve slept under the stars and felt the rains in Germany, I’ve swiped the dust from my notepad in Djibouti. I’ve stood in aw of the St. Louis Arch and the simplicity of the design. I had a heart to heart with a 6’5 bouncer at the Coo Coo’s Neat in Queens. The state trooper in Dallas didn’t believe me when I told I identified as someone who doesn’t obey the speed limits. I still do not believe you can see Russia from the mountain tops in Anchorage no matter what my sister in law says. I love with my whole heart and feels with every sense in my body.

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