This is the very first time that I've talked about anything paranormal that I've dealt with. I'm not at all skeptical, as I've had many experiences with it. I guess you could say that this dealing has made me true believer in other realms, besides the one that we physically live in.
Let me give you a little detail of what my story is about. Back in 1997, my then boyfriend and I went to a concert that was like a who's who in Alternative rock. We went mainly to see Placebo. Well, as a memento of this night, he bought me a gorgeous poster of the band. I ended up getting the poster signed by all three members.
A week after the concert, my boyfriend had a custom frame made for it in a beautiful piece of oak wood. It then went up on the wall of our living room, where it stayed (this is important to remember for later).
The whole time that we lived in that apartment, the framed poster hung there overlooking the entire living room. It was positioned about halfway up the wall. I'd say probably in the middle. Close to reach for dusting if standing on the couch, but not in arms reach for anyone sitting down.
At the time, we lived in California, near San Francisco. And many of our friends, when they would come by, would always comment on the frame and the poster that hung within it. One even went as far as telling me that he thought the framed wood seemed to be expanding itself. Which I knew was impossible because of how it was mounted. The wood was smooth and molded into a perfect fit just for that poster. No other picture could be placed in there as there was no way one could be (this is important too).
Months went by and the framed picture hung proudly above the room, overlooking the entire space and anyone who happened to come by. This beautiful piece of work with the poster inside of it, became my prized possession, even more than it had when I first acquired it.
Then in March of 2000, my entire world as I knew it collapsed around me. I received I call in the middle of the night from a childhood friend of mine that there had been an accident and that Toni, my boyfriend and a friend of his, were involved. She told me where I needed to be. My heart sank at the news I was hearing. The whole way to the area that I was to go I kept saying prayers that they would be alright, but if I were to lose Toni, to let me be by his side.
Since we had only lived a few blocks from where the accident happened, I got there pretty quick. I remember sitting with him in the back of the ambulance and holding his hand in mine, running my other hand through his dark hair. My heart was completely breaking at seeing him lying there, not moving, while a lady paramedic and her partner did what they could for him.
The moment that I knew he had passed from this life, I felt him tighten his grip on my hand, then release. As far as I knew, there's only been two times that I can ever recall of having cried in my adult life. This was the first. The emotions that I kept to myself when I first arrived at the scene, caved in on me at that point.
For several months following that night, I kept myself busy at work and stayed away from the apartment until I had to go home for the night. I even went as far as working two jobs. One at a bar and one in a clothing shop, so that I wouldn't have to face the empty place alone. Day or night.
This is were the poster and frame come in. I stayed home from work one day and decided to get caught up on cleaning. What usually was the first thing I did, to dust the frame, became something that I really began to dread. Too many memories laid forever glassed in around a frame that had been made for me.
I avoided it until I could no longer do so. One afternoon, I climbed upon the couch and reluctantly dusted the edges and the glass. Once done, I decided to go for a hot bath. Now, remember, this frame hung above the couch middle way up the wall and the poster had been permanently sealed within it.
After I finished my bath, I dressed for bed and went for some hot tea. As I came down the stairs, something felt strange within the living area. But I couldn't figure out what or why. As I rounded the open corner, I immediately noticed what it was. The framed poster was sitting on the couch upright and leaning back. Like it had been sat there. But I didn't touch it. If you know oak wood, it's heavy and takes two people to lift it above their heads. Yet this thing was sitting there.
My hand went over my mouth and I slowly walked in the rest of the way. As I reached it and turned full face towards it, I noticed that there was another image in the bottom left hand side of the frame. I thought at first it was on the outside, until I walked up to it. The image was actually a photograph of myself and Toni, taken back in 1997, the day that we had met and seen Placebo in concert. I knelt down and slowly ran my hand across the glass that protected both the poster and the photograph. This was the second time I cried.
I'm now back in New York again where I'm from, and still have these. How the photograph physically got there, I really don't know, but on other level, I would say that Toni put it there.