Everyone starts their story with "I'm a believer", or "I
never used to believe in this junk but...". It's a good
way to start because if I tell you I have always had an
unhealthy interest in the Paranormal, something in you is
going to disbelieve what I am about to say. I ask you to
trust in me, although you don't and will never know me -
this is true.
I saw my first ghost aged 5 in Bothwell Castle in
Scotland, my next was at my childhood home in Motherwell
(also Scotland) - I got used to him. I called him Abraham
because he looked like old woodcut's of Abraham Lincoln. I
believe he was merely a recording locked in the walls of
our Victorian villa. Neither of these Ghosts were
malicious.
I moved with my mother, after my parents divorce, to
Glasgow. A superb city which I would entreat anyone to
visit. The city has a pulse, it breathes and energises all
who come here. It also has it's dark corners. One of
these is to be found in the centre of the leafy, arty West
End of my beautiful City. My mothers home is a flat
(Apartment) in a cinverted Georgian Mansion. It has a huge
ornate and heavy black door. The windows are tall as well as the
ceilings. Even in the dead of night, it feels light and
airy. This is because what lives there lives not in front
but behind our eyes.
I knew there was a presence. He was a tall, broad, absence
of light that would suck the air from my room from his
place at the end of the bed. After a while I got used to
him - he only wanted to watch. But when my friends
inevitably came to visit - things started happening.
"Gil, why did you wake me up in the middle of the night?",
"I didn't hon, I was fast asleep". I had woken Anna from a
violent dream to tell her everything was okay, only I'd
been at the other side of the house and I don't sleep
walk.
Stu and Lori woke me screaming in the night, they had both
been sleeping in the living room, sharing the self same
dream about death, they felt someone was watching them
from the cupboard, someone who was flashing violent and
hideous images at them. When I went in to see if they were
okay, they were white and trembling with terror. They
couldn't believe they'd had the same dream .
I myself dreamed that I could float and I was flying
through the mirrors of the house, floating up behind
whoever was looking at themselves and slitting their
throats. It was horrendous and still frightens me to this
day.
But it is, once again, my twin, my Doppelganger that
scares me most. As I said Anna said she woke her to tell
her not to be scared. Another time Mick, a good friend was
sitting babbling away in the back room - my old bedroom (I
no longer live at my mums). I went in to ask who he was
speaking to - he said I'd walked into the room and gone
into the walk in closet. Of course I wasn't there. Nicola
also had the same experience. I was in the kitchen when
she walked past the kitchen door from my old room to the
living room, chatting away. Only when she got to the
living room I was gone. I had never been there - I was in
the kitchen preparing dinner. Mick, Anna and Nicola refuse
to sleep there now - all three having had their waking
dream of my Doppelganger went on to have a nightmare where
I was screaming at them from the closet that something was
attacking me.
My answer to this? I had a nervous breakdown in that room
after my parents divorce - I think that all that is bad in
me is trapped in there, and she comes out sometimes, walks
around - like a recording - she won't hurt you but she'll
disturb your sleep. I have exorcised the room - performed
water, air, earth and fire cleansings but she's hanging
around. Maybe she's my madness and if that's the case
perhaps i'm glad she's not in me. Perhaps the man at the
end of the bed, the absense of light took my form from all
the fear and hurt that I was experiencing there. Either
way she terrifies my friends (to the extent that mick went
into shock and had to be calmed for hours with endless
cups of hot sweet tea). Maybe I have a more forceful (dual)
personality than I thought I did.
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