My daughter thinks that our house is haunted – for real. My husband and my two sons think she’s delusional. I think that weird stuff DOES go on around here sometimes. I’m hoping there are logical reasons to explain it all. I don’t deal well with the scary supernatural, or with guys coming after me in my sleep who have knives for fingers.
Let me explain to you what’s been happening, and you can decide for yourself. Am I living in the Amityville Horror house, or do my daughter and I just have REALLY active imaginations?
As I’ve mentioned in earlier blog posts, my stove seems to have a mind of it’s own. It appears that it can turn itself on. It’s happened on numerous occasions. Either that, or I’ve turned it on myself without even realizing it. This may or may not be related, but I also forget where I’m going when I’m in my car sometimes. That’s weird thing number one.
Then there was the time that my daughter’s phone randomly recorded a conversation that she was having with her girlfriend about the Illuminati, playing it back to her just-as-randomly about an hour later. I guess you don’t talk about the Illuminati and get away with it. They are everywhere and always listening, even in my rec room. No doubt, it is a place where mad stuff goes down, like we’ve been known to watch four episodes of Say Yes To The Dress in a row. Yes, we can be downright cabalistic.
A few times, my daughter has heard unexplained hissing noises. OK, so we have four cats, but she says that it wasn’t any of them. She’s sure – absolutely sure. Not that she was really looking. She’s usually glued to Facebook.
Then there’s the fact that the light outside our house doesn’t work very well. It’s always flickering on and off. When you peak out the window at it – scanning for phantom-like figures – it goes from a dull glow, to a slightly stronger dull glow, like it senses your presence and it’s trying to say hello in an evil, demon-like way. Now, it could be that its electrical connection just isn’t working quite right. Nah.
Also once, my daughter looked outside to see a bunch of men trying to fix it. They were up on ladders and everything. When she went downstairs a few minutes later – probably like ten minutes later, and this is the real “holy shit there are ghosts afoot clincher” – the men were GONE. Poof! They had just disappeared. My daughter thinks this is crazy. How could they have collected all their stuff and left in such a short amount of time? I think it’s just proof that city workers are really good at going on coffee break. When donuts or cigarettes are involved, those men with the neon yellow or orange vests can disassemble a ladder and pack their toolboxes faster than Charlie Sheen could undress a prostitute.
Furthermore, the thermostat in the basement glows a firey “I’m going to kill you” red whenever anybody goes down there, not that it’s motion sensitive or anything.
OK, so the tree on our front lawn died. The city chopped it down this past summer. Maybe it was the possible native burial ground upon which our house was built – the spirits coming alive in protest – OR it was the Emerald Ash Borer beetle that was “confirmed in Ottawa back in 2008 and whose impact has clearly been seen spreading from the St. Laurent area since then”. Take your pick.
If none of the above seems reason enough that our house could be haunted, how about this? A shadowy figure keeps trying to have sex with my daughter in her dreams. It’s happened over and over and over again, so what that she’s almost nineteen and quite possibly in the throws of a sexual awakening? Scarily, she can’t see his face, but his body looks – surprise, surprise – a lot like Ryan Gosling. If you assume that in the ghost world, people are – on average – about as attractive as they are in real life, then what are the chances? Wouldn’t most ghosts look more like Adam Sandler? She should consider herself lucky, I think.
One more thing: my daughter says that the garage door sounds like it’s breathing when she opens and closes it. Most of the time when she’s coming in that way, she’s coming home late…from a party…possibly inebriated. Yeah, that one’s a total mystery.
There was that one time when three of the cats stood at the top of the stairs and looked down like the devil himself was coming up, their tails bushy, their ears all back. Devil or no devil, ghost or no ghost, that’s exactly why I have feline protection. Obviously, the specter didn’t come past them because I’m still here – alive, not bleeding out of my eyeballs. My whiskered strategy seems to be working. You ask me why I want my cats sleeping with me every single night, by my side, under the blankets? That’s why.
So what to do about all this stuff? Well, in answering my own blog post title, nothing – there’s NOTHING I can do about it. We are just going to have to ride this torturous life out forever. It’ll probably affect generations. My great-great-great grandchildren will suffer – sadly.
If you’ve ever seen the movie Paranormal Activity, or that one with Kevin Bacon, you’d know that moving from one house to another won’t work. Being haunted is like having the flu. It doesn’t leave because you drag yourself to another location, like the doctor’s office. That just makes it worse – because you’ve gone outside and it’s cold. Most of the time, it’s better to stay put, close to the toilet, to prevent an embarrassing “stinking up the bathroom in public” scene.
Nope, the ghosts go with the people. Like car insurance. That’s just the way it is. All I can say is, thank goodness at least one of them is a sexy bad boy. Creepy and partly incestuous or not, my daughter and I will share that one. I seriously hope he likes a woman with a sense of humour.
One more question: do handcuffs work on apparitions? Please say yes.
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