man in the field

I thought I had posted this before but couldn’t find it in my history. I’ve always had this vision of a man, helpless or dying in a field. He can hear the traffic going by and voices from the buildings across the street. He might have been beaten and dump there. No one can hear him yelling for help. I picture him in a white wool suit. This was around the late 1940’s maybe early 50’s. While I was on Facebook I joined the Columbus, Ohio history group. A photo they posted is exactly the vision I’ve seen with this man. The color of the sky, the cars, everything is exact. The red X is where this man laid only he’s hidden by tall grass and weeds as seen on the other side of the road.

maninthe-field_x

They’ve Never Left

As I mentioned before I work with the elderly. It’s hard not to get close to them no matter how thick of a wall you’ve built. You get close enough you can tell who they are just by their sounds and odors. I can tell who’s close by without ever seeing them. That’s until they yell my name. This never stops, it’s like the “All-Mike Choir” and it’s nonstop.  By the time I’m ready to go home I hate my name. Depending on their healthcare coverage some get aides and assistants to help them with their daily needs. Some get or want very little so they come to me.

The manager says I’ll get use to them passing away, but I haven’t yet. Since the first of the year two of my friends are gone. One day they’re perfectly healthy and happy then they’re gone. I’m cold to it but I’ll never get use to it. I’m typically alone through out the day taking care of running the building and making 50 people happy. Happy as in being quiet for a few days so I can get other things done. Early morning and mid-afternoon are the times when the building comes alive. While the living residents are still asleep, or resting or what ever they do, my friends come out. The building gets so quiet you hear yourself breathing, but that’s when Mr. Brown will clear his throat. Or Ms. Piper comes down the hall pushing her walker with the worn out skids on the carpet. Nellie will sing off in the distance. Then there’s the smell of incense Nicki used to cover the odor of the cigarettes they’re not allowed to be smoking. These are just a few of my friends who’ve died several years ago but never really left.

cold winter voice

Five degrees, several inches of dry snow, wind, and sun. That’s today. I like cold winter days. Sunny ones especially. I didn’t dress warm to go to work today, but while I stared out the windows all I wanted to do was be outside. To me the building is warm but to the elderly its never hot enough. This keeps them in their rooms and keeps my sanity in check. The quiet afternoon in the building was a perfect time to watch outside. Maybe catch the deer or a coyote while I spent a moment staring out the long row of paneled glass. While checking my email a few swirls of dry snow caught my attention long enough to lose my place I had read. I check Facebook then over to Reddit. Once again a larger swirl of snow caught my attention. It seemed it was whirling around a figure. I pulled my glasses up to see farther and to focus. It was a figure. It resembled an inverted shadow person. The glistening outline was obviously facing me. It was a female shape but no real detail. I went back and got my coat. Now I have to go out. The back door was closer so I exited through the back making my way around to the front to greet my new visitor. This is a long cold walk. The sun was in front of the building and the sharp wind was coming at me quick through the forest. Still struggling to get both my coats on and the hoodies pocketed inside each other, there walking beside me was the iridescent figure. Seemingly cold herself, she wouldn’t look up while I tried to grasp who or what I was looking at walking beside me. I got my hoodie’s situated, my gloves on and coats zipped. The apparition wasn’t talkative but seemed to just enjoy the company as I did.  My little slip on the ice jolted my body. The words, spoken as soft as the sharp cold breeze filling the air, “be careful”, came from beside me. My first thought was to wonder what would happen if I had slipped and fell. Would she help me up? Laugh? Even though the swirling figure was beside me I kept walking towards the front of the building where I first saw the her. The closer we got to the spot she originated the quieter it got. The wind slowed to a few dying gusts. The 3:45 pm winter sun shining hard into my eyes, there is where she said “good-bye”…

mom says

Twice in the last 24 hours my stairsmom has communicated to me to visit my dad for Christmas this year. There’s two things stopping that; I don’t celebrate Christmas and he made it clear for me not to contact him.

Just as I sat down to write this there was movement across the upstairs hall and stopped at the top of the steps. The air is heavy in here now and I’m unsure who’s visiting. Sometimes you can feel when something’s about to happen.

Scream

Around 4:00 am I woke up with the feeling someone was in the room with me. The TV still on, it lit up the room as I cautiously rolled over to see if any one was there. No one. I was awake and turned the TV off thinking I was going to get up for the day. Slowly I fell back to sleep. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when a loud ominous scream tore through the silence. I shot up in bed, the scream is still in the air, almost in my face I could feel the vibrations from the sound. As I sat up a shadowing figure of a smoke-like cloud, almost like cigarette smoke, moved out into the hall and dissipated. hallThe hall, lit up from the light on my drawing table, seemed unfazed by what just happened. Sitting up, I listened. I listened so hard I could hear my heart beating. Nothing but the fan downstairs. It took a few moments to gather myself. I got up and walked through the house. Nothing was out of place.

I think this started last night when I was ignoring the energy around me like I’ve done the last few months. Luckily I was drawing in pencil. I could hear the background sounding off. They were getting unusually loud when the table was bumped hard enough to jerk my pencil across the paper. “GAWDAMMIT!” I said and the activity went quiet.

 

call from lock up

My manager has taken a leave of absence from work, FMLA. It’s been a few weeks and I thought I would text her to see how she was doing. It’s normal for her to not answer me, most of my texts are just statements that don’t need answered or just an emoji. This was about 3:00pm Friday afternoon. At 5:30pm her ringtone I have set just for her on my phone goes off. When I answered it was silent. A strange silence like the phone was being covered but I heard a faint undecipherable whisper. I hung up and called her right back but I got the recording saying “the number you have dialed is either turned off or out of the service area”.

Just a few minutes ago her husband called me. He told me she had been in surgery and is in ICU this morning for blood clots in her lungs. He was able to get her belongings out the hospital lock up where they had been stored since Thursday evening and saw I had called her number. We talked for a few minutes to get caught up. But who called my number?

They’re in my wall

When I first looked at this place the owner looked back into the woods as he unlocked the door. It wasn’t a glance to look at the scenery, more of a “should I hurry and unlock this door” kind of look. You can tell when someone knows something. The place gave off a hollow silence waiting to be awaken. It felt like someone was there or had just been there. Two and a half years later and everything I’ve encountered here tells me I was correct remembering the look he gave into the woods.

My bedroom sits next to the bathroom. The rooms share the wall where my headboard was situated. The first few weeks the new sounds took a while to get use to. Watching TV one night, my head was against the headboard. The first few thumps I blew off as the TV. After a while it sounded like a hallway inside the wall. I pressed my ear up to it. That’s exactly what I was hearing. A busy hallway inside the wall. Echo’s of walking and doors shutting. I examined the wall between the rooms. In the bathroom is a wall heater, in the bedroom is an outlet. No plumbing or air ducts or anything that would give off obvious sounds. The tub is metal, it shouldn’t be flexing like fiberglass or plastic surrounds. At times it would sound like there’s someone right up against the wall with me. I would knock and all the sounds would come to a halt. Slowly they would pick back up to the steady pace they normally are.

A few months ago I moved my bed to the opposite wall just so I could face the doorway out into the hall. Occasionally I could hear sounds in the wall if I laid still enough. Friday morning I was slowly getting up. Work doesn’t start until 10:30 or 11:00 am. When ever I get there. I sat in the bathroom getting ready for my shower. Just sitting there half awake I heard a scuff inside the wall. I looked at the wall heater directly in front of me and felt the sensation I was being watched. Right above the towel bar was the nail that held the picture I had knocked off the wall Monday when I pulled my towel off the bar too fastnail_2rs. The nail slowly moved up and down as it pushed it’s way out from the wall and stopped. That was the fastest shower I ever took. Before I left for work I sat the Digital Voice Recorder on the dresser and taped it to the wall. This ran for seven and a half hours. When I got home the first thing I did was listen to it. Within the first half hour the sounds started. These will take a while to listen too and I have to get the file off the recorder and onto my computer. There’s more coming…