Do you believe in ghosts?

I do. I saw one in my apartment Sunday night.

Please allow me to preface this story by saying I wasn't drinking or smoking anything. I hadn't eaten any food that had gone bad, hadn't licked any toads or eaten any peyote buttons. I was on the straight and narrow.

Not that this is a good thing, but it is what it is.

At roughly 10pm central time I decided that sleeping was a better option than staying awake. Oscar was already sleeping, there was nothing worth watching on tv and I didn't feel like playing video games, so to bed I went.

If you're worried about my dental hygiene, don't. I brushed. I pooped, too, if you must know.

So there I am in bed, listening to the radio. All of the lights are off, Oscar is snoring, I'm laying on my back hoping the storms outside don't develop into a tornado; that's when I feel the tickle. A mental tickle, telling me something isn't right. I turn my head to the left and see it, floating in the doorway: A hand. Just a hand...a spectral, misty white hand, and it's moving towards me.

I was not scared. Not even a little. I was merely curious and watched as the hand approached, moving slowly closer. It reached my clock-radio, which was still on, the announcer talking about the tornado warnings, violent storms and wind alert.

The hand reached the radio, touched it, and it turned off. Then the hand was gone.

I lay there for a while, digesting what had just happened, wondering if I had fallen asleep quickly and had just dreamed the whole thing. But I was awake, there was no doubt about it. I'm not sure what it was, or who, but there are two things I am sure of:

1) The ghost (or whatever it was) really hated the radio station I was listening to.
2) Oscar cannot protect me from the undead. He didn't even wake up.

I'm more worried about the second part. I can always change the station, but I'll need help against a vampire.


M. PotPie