drinkswiththeunknown

"Hold your breath when you pass a cemetery, or you'll breathe in a spirit and take it home with you." "What? I never heard that before." "My cousin was a jerk to me when I was a kid and told me that and I've always done it. I'm not going to risk it." "Ok, well, this cemetery is long, and we have to take this road. It's a shortcut to the apartment." "I can do it." I held my breath as long as I could. Fifty yards before the end of Hall Street and my lungs were on fire. Lightheadedness kicked in. My eyes became watery. That large gasp of air was a relief from the pain I felt in my chest. That large gasp of air was exactly what the spirit from Greenwood cemetery needed to get inside of me. I was the vessel it needed to escape the cemetery and make its way to their new home.  Our home. Cemetery superstitions The first part of that story has some truth. When I was growing up, I had some unpleasant times with...

Nothing could stop the train barreling towards the school bus trapped on the tracks. The driver's eyes stayed glued on the three thousand-ton freight train making its presence known the closer it came into sight. Rumbling was felt throughout the bus as the train kept getting closer. Each second felt like an eternity for the fourteen children frozen in fear. Screams were muffled by the overbearing sound of the train horn warning the school bus and its passengers collision was imminent. Over and over the driver continued to turn his key in the ignition. Sweat beaded on his forehead while he prayed to every God he knew. Two children survived the crash. They were found huddled together under a seat behind the driver. Ten years after the accident one of the survivors took their life on the tracks. Survivors guilt was too much for them to bear. The other child continued to search for answers until their death. It didn't make sense for the bus to come to a complete stop as th...

I may have only been three or four, but the memory is still vivid twenty-five years later. Out of nowhere, one to three black masses appeared on the walls while I laid on the bed alone. First, they looked like clouds of smoke. After my eyes adjusted to get a better look, I could see the figures begin to take shape. Tall. Short. Thin. Wide. Always a different shape, but always appearing when I was alone. Watching. Then walking into the corners of the wall disappearing back to wherever it was they came from. Those shadows appeared enough times to become normal. My parents moved, I followed of course, but that wouldn't be the last encounter with them. They never believed me and passed them off as shadows from the people walking on the streets with passing car headlights on them. That wouldn't explain the shadows I saw on the walls with no windows opposite of them. They are shadow people and they have followed me all my life. Those memories are what inspired this blog. All m...