From the onset, I could tell this wasn't gonna be your
typical "American dreamhome". Nope, no sweeping staircases
or wide porches; just a 1 bedroom apartment in a crime-
ridden section of Dallas, Texas, and I wouldn't have called
any other place home.
You see, funds were low and debts were high, and the little
money I did have was spend on nothing more than the
necessities. I wouldn't have even been able to afford that
place if the anything-for-a-buck slumlord hadn't been
generous enough to sale me a flat with a past. Don't
worry; this "past" was of no concern to a skeptical, level-
headed 19 year old bent on changing the world one senseless
theory at a time. Besides, I welcomed the chance to pay
half as much as the other tenants, and didn't even inquire
on it's history.
But, as they say, hindsight is 20-20, and, boy, was that a
mistake.
My first encounter occured only a week or so after I had
moved my all-too-few belongings into it's rooms. Some
friends and I were sitting around listening to some Lynyrd
Skynryd (you see, where I come from, Southern Rock is a
religion), when my theme song, Freebird came on. I didn't
pay any attention to the fact that Freebird wasn't on that
particular cd, and sang along. It wasn't until later that
night when I went to listen to it again that I realized
that Freebird was packed away in the very depths of my
closet. I shrugged it off, but my logic for doing so is
still fuzzy in my head.
Then the screaming started, and that was a little harder to
ignore. It was high-pitched, always followed by a man's
garbled voice, and seemed to come from the bedroom. I
attributed the noise to the neighbors, but could never
bring myself to confront them on it. They, however,
brought it to my attention with a notice from the tenants
board asking me to keep it down. Well, did I have news for
them!
It was at this point that I finally came around to the
paranormal way of thinking and got an Ouija board. My
brother, Jake, and his friend Calvin offered to help, and
the only message I could seem to get was "Im us frie us a
burd now" (Exact spelling, too.). I immediately
recognized this, and ran to my cd shelf ready to pop it
in. As soon as the famous intro-riff started, the room
became as cold as a well digger's..you know...so cold that
I could see my breath..in Texas...in June...That was enough
for me, and I high-tailed it to the door, my brother close
at my heels. I was stopped, however, by a long-haired man
in a cowboy hat standing in the hallway. His eyes drilled
into me, and I stood transfixed, only a few feet away from
freedom. There was a certain look, sadness and anger, that
has haunted me to this very day..
Well, that incident scared me enough to move back in with
my parents, and I haven't experienced anything since.
A
few years later, I ran into my former landlord in Wal-Mart,
of all places, and coaxed the story behind my ghost from
him. Apparently, the lead guitarist of an up and coming
rock band committed suicide after his girlfriend had been
raped and murdered in his own apartment...
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