» Tales of the Unexplained

The ghost in the garden
I woke up early in the morning about 3 a.m. Something just didn't seem right in the house. I lay there awake for a while and then decided to go downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

It had been raining the night before and I could see outside through our sliding glass door that looks out onto the back lawn that it was a little misty or even foggy out. I poured myself a glass of water from the tap and then sat down at the kitchen table. I was looking outside at the lawn through the sliding glass doors. I could see our big sycamore tree next to the fence; just beyond it was barely visible through the fog. That's when I saw it. That's when I saw the ghost.

I could tell that it was a human figure. It was so white that it seemed to glow. It was kind of billowing, too, like seeing a person who was swimming underwater. You can see them, but you can't really make out the edges. It didn't have legs – it’s body just sort of dissolved away toward the ground. It floated there for a moment or two and then I guess it must have sensed that I was looking at it because it turned a little toward me and then... and then... it just ascended straight up into the sky.

I stood there for what seemed like an hour, just waiting for it to come back. I didn't even realize that I had been standing. I must have stood up when I saw it fly up into the air.

The next morning I was telling my mother about it and she got this look in her face. I could tell that the story had got her scared. She said "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-air"

I whistled for a cab, and when it came near, The license plate said "fresh" and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare, But I thought "Nah forget it, Yo homes to Bel Air."

I pulled up to the house about seven or eight, and I yelled to the cabby "Yo homes, smell ya later!" Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
(Thu 3rd Jul 2008, 12:20, More)

» I'm going to Hell...

In sympathy
I sent my friend an 'In Sympathy' card as a joke birthday card one time. On the front was a picture of Jesus being crucified. To take the edge off it I drew shades on Jesus.
(Thu 11th Dec 2008, 13:50, More)

» School Days

“I’m going to kill you!”
That’s what R said to me. I don’t really recall the next few thinking steps I made. I was only 12 or 13 at the time. I just recall the fear I had and the belief that I really did think he meant it. I’m not sure, looking back, if I was just shell-shocked from all the past bullying or if I just felt that I was cornered and didn’t have any ideas on how to get out.

But somewhere over the next few days I made a decision. It is a decision I still think about. A decision made in fear and ultimately, in self-defense against what I felt was an aggressive, strong person. I decided to carry a weapon to school to protect myself.

OK, here’s where you start worrying. It has led to this. He is bringing a knife to school. Well, this was the 1980s folks. I couldn’t steal a knife from the kitchen without my Mum noticing it missing and taking a knife to school was pretty much unknown. What I’m referring to is a sharp file. It had a pointed end, but was a file for filing fingernails. Now I know some of your are laughing, but it was metal and pretty sharp. I realize now I couldn’t do a whole lot of damage, but at the time, I was not thinking that. I brought it every day with me. It sat in my pocket. I was paralyzed with fear.

I decided on another strategy as well. I decided to tell R’s friends that I had a knife and if he came after me, I would use it. Well, needless to say, this back and forth between R’s friends trying to tell me I was dead meat and me telling them I had a knife went on for several days. Then, the day came that I was dreading. I had been walking the path through the woods to avoid being seen. But R had found out about that.

After a 30 minute walk around the path where I tried to hide from the bullies, I emerged at the point where I could see the road. And there, looking down at me was R. I had no choice but to walk up to the top. I could hear him calling after me. I was petrified. I reached into my pocket and put my hands around the file.

“I’m going to kill you”, R said to me, calmly, almost deadly to me. My heart was beating. I didn’t want to fight him. I was tired of fighting. I pulled the file from my pocket. At the top of the path, where it met the road, R immediately threw down his backpack and took a swing at me with his fist.

I slashed with the file. My heart pounding in my ears. I slashed and it made contact with him. I saw the surprise and then the pain on his face. He screamed out in pain. I caught him by surprise. I was sick to my stomach about having done it, but it was done. While I had the element of surprise I ran down the road for the long mile to my house.

I turned and then saw R running after me. He was angry and I assume in pain. I had no idea how much damage I had done. I just ran. I ran out of fear. I ran out of worry about what I had done. I ran because I figured if he caught me, he WOULD kill me. I was 12. I was terrified.

I ran the whole way home. There is no way I could do that today, run a mile. But I did then. He ran the whole way too. I recall my mother was at home recovering from an operation. There was a large driveway up to my house that I had to go up. I ran up that yelling for my Mum the whole way. R was right behind me. My Mother must have heard me, because the door opened just as I got to it and I ran into the house.

There was R outside the door. Yelling into the house. Yelling at me and saying I stabbed him to my Mother. He was still screaming when she told him to leave. I looked at his side and he had a rip on his shirt. There was a little blood and he had a scratch from the file. But for me, I might have well cut him deep. I never wanted to have or use a weapon. I regret having it, but the fear was too much at the time.

Well of course my Mother was freaked out. She was scared at the repercussions from the school, or police. She said "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-air"

I whistled for a cab, and when it came near, The license plate said "fresh" and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare, But I thought "Nah forget it, Yo homes to Bel Air."

I pulled up to the house about seven or eight, and I yelled to the cabby "Yo homes, smell ya later!" Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
(Wed 4th Feb 2009, 13:32, More)

» Call Centres

Someone called the other day and just went 'ng' 'ng'
Nothing else, they just wanted to phoneme.
(Thu 10th Sep 2009, 10:18, More)

» Vomit Pt2

Student days
No, this is not one of those "i got totally ratarsed and spewed blue puke lol" posts. This is a tale about MAGIC MUSHROOMS.

During a period of October whilst in my student dossing about period a number of us - friends of a chap I'll simply refer to as Mushroom King - did what many many people have done in the past, and I'm sure will do for years ad infinitum. We took magic mushrooms. A lot of them in a very short space of time. MK knew a place where they grew and he went and picked thousands of them. Every day he went and every day he returned with another box of the little fellas. And every day we boiled them up and made tea with them.

By day 6 of almost solid hallucinogen abuse things were starting to get a little strange as you can imagine, even when not directly under the effect of the shrooms the edges of reality were starting to become a little frayed - although we were young and we figured we could take it.

Each day I would venture to my friends house, where the mushroom merriment took place - think of it as a temple - the uninitiated were inducted there, usually causing small amounts of vomiting, whether it was the hallucinogenic properties or the fact that traces of cowshit were making their way into the tea I dont know.

Anyway, back to the 6th day - by this time I was heavily enjoying the effects so as normal i made my way to MKs temple. I stopped on the way at a kebab shop to pick up a large portion of donner meat and chips. Eating this en route, I arrived at the house pretty much at the same point as I finished my feast. On knocking the door and being ushered in, a cup of the potent brew was thrust into my hands, which i eagerly downed. For anyone not familiar with shrooms, the effects take a while to kick in, your body has to digest the tea of course, so after finishing the cupful I decided to pop out to the local garage to grab some fags and a drink for later. Whilst there I started to come up on the shrooms, which was a whole crazy experience in itself in an all night garage but I digress.

On the short walk back to the house I felt an odd sensation in my stomach. Not deep down, but right at the top, the bit that feels full when you overeat. Of course by this point I wasnt in my right mind, so the odd sensation, not pain, just strange, made me start to laugh. As I'm laughing, I start to vomit - i'm in the street, alone, maybe 50 yards from the house, laughing and vomiting. The real problem, is that the vomit is pretty solid since I hadnt long stuffed myself. Chunks of chewed but virtually undigested meat and chips are coming up my throat and I'm still laughing, the horror being that I cant breathe and I'm still laughing, the laughter not composed of normal human laughter but whoops of noise as my body desperately tries to suck air into its system and cant, wracked with body pains which spur my laughter on more, my throat is blocked with a solid mass of food and i start to panic, my brain screaming as my body still tries to laugh, i'm digging in my throat, pulling out chunks and rolling on the floor purple faced, digging, digging, heaving, crying, laughing, screaming. Finally, after an eternity it subsides. I'm taking great gasps of air as the blockage is finally cleared with heaves and scraping the food out of my throat.

Shakily i got to my feet and headed for the house. The trip proceeded as it normally did, and afterwards I went home. I'd like to say that was the last time I ever did shrooms. But the next night I went back for another cup.
(Wed 13th Jan 2010, 9:35, More)