Freebird

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...