The Ghost That Haunted Him

If we could only get used to the idea that ghosts are harmless. We empower them by showing them our fears. Maybe we should embrace the supernatural.





A young man was once asked if he believed in ghosts, and he answered, "No, I just see too many of them."





Many see so many horrid visitors from other worlds, that it leaves no impact whatsoever on them, but instead inspires a genuine interest. Although these creatures leave purely odd physical sensations, they mentally escape from the presence that they are tuned into.





What is it that they see? Is it a strange being with flashing green eyes, clammy hands, and long dripping sea weed as hair? Will these things rise from the floor under them?





My Friend’s Experience





My best friend told me an experience that he had. He lit a cigarette with shaking hands as he spoke of his story, exclaiming, and "It is the truth, I tell you."





It was at two a.m., when no one else was in the house, he was completely alone. Outside was a nerve-destroying storm, making him even more fearful, I think.





A manifestation materialized in his arm-chair, in the library, he told me. I will tell you some more of the story briefly, but I need to warn you in advance, that it may shatter your confidence in me.





This intruder, my friend spoke of, the one that took over his arm-chair, was the most horrible creature that he ever laid eyes on. He described it as being worse than grotesque. It grated on every single nerve in his body. My friend explained that if the color was to strike his ear, it would deafen him.





It was around midnight, when the manifestation first took shape. His family had just gone to bed. He just finished smoking his cigarette, and decided to place another log into the flickering fireplace. After this was done, he turned around, and there, fearful to see, sat this creature grinning from his very own chair. You can imagine how his hair stood on end at the very sight of this thing that sat before him.





My friend explained to me that he felt as though his hairs would stick to the oak ceiling, they were standing so straight up from fear. He said he felt as though waves of cold winds were rolling up and down his spine.





He never talked about it again, after that day, and I never mentioned the ghost that haunted him.