Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Someone grab the rock salt...

I have a ghost.

We've known about our little friend since I bought the house. It's an older place, having been constructed in 1920, so I'd figured it had a little bit of history. To tell the truth, it was one of the reasons that I bought the house. I'd much rather live in a home that feels as though it has a story to tell than live in a cookie-cutter, brand new home in a sprawling develop. That, and the kitchen is the same size as the living room. I can throw entire parties in the kitchen alone. After having tried to cook in cramped, closet-sized apartment kitchens for 10 years (some so small that if the oven was open, you couldn't leave the kitchen), I needed a bigger place. But I digress.

For the most part, Casper's been a friendly ghost. (I don't know if it's male or female, I just like the idea of a cute little floating Devon Sawa hanging around. Shush. Don't judge me.) Things will creak and go THUNK in the back hallway when all pets are present and accounted for, and there's nothing to justify the noise. He likes to play with the cats, and it's very obvious that they can see him when he's roughing them up and tweaking their tails.

Then there's the objects that will randomly disappear and turn up again. I tore my world apart, looking for a Photoshop disk. It disappeared out of the cd holder for the computer related disks. I went through the desk. Not there. I went through the bookcase where computer books are stored. Not there. I rifled through the random boxes in storage, and of course it wasn't there, because there was no reason why it SHOULD be there, but I was ruling everything out. Finally, after days of frustration, I gave up. Somehow, though I don't know how, it had to have left the house. Maybe someone at the video store or redbox had gotten an exciting surprise.

Two weeks ago, as I was crawling into bed, I noticed a CD case on my headboard. Odd place for a CD, I thought, as I turned it over.

It was Photoshop.
I swear, I heard Casper giggling.

But now, our little ghost boy has started to get destructive. A few nights ago, we were all gathered in the living room catching up on Ax Men when there was a loud CRASH from the kitchen. The sound of glass shattering was so loud, it made two dogs, two cats, and two humans jump. I ran to the kitchen to find the remains of a wine glass more closely resembling sand than a solid object. My mind exploded.

The glass had been in the rack with a bracer that went all the way up the interior of the cup. For it to have made it all the way up and off the bracer, across the counter, and crashing to the floor would have required help. Of the ghostly kind.

Now, I might have let Casper off with a warning. That is, if it hadn't been an irreplaceable glass from a Wine Walk. He couldn't have shattered one of the cheap glass goblets I got at a discount store, oh no. He had to go for the one that had sentimental value.

But here's the question; apart from going all Sam-and-Dean-Winchester on the spook, how exactly to you get back at a ghost?

No comments:

Post a Comment

I love comments!