Haunted Houses in Town

Last week I was at the beauty salon getting my hair done (yeah, I’m not a natural blond), telling the beautician who does my hair about when my parents were UFO investigators. I didn’t go into the UFO stuff and only briefly mentioned about when my dad used to hunt for Big Foot. I did tell her about the mysterious stain Dad had investigated, which propelled our conversation into haunted houses.

At the beginning of our conversation, I’ll admit, I did silently wonder if I should continue to open up to her about the paranormal and how my life had been deeply entrenched with it while growing up.

I mean, what if she thought I was a nutcase?

But then I thought, you know what. Screw it.

Yeah, I live in a small town and rumors spread quickly around here, but I’m not going to change who I am in fear of being ridiculed or ostracized.

I know I’m not a freak, and I don’t live in fantasy land. I’m like my dad who needs solid evidence, not bullshit. I need to see it with my own eyes and the experience has to be tangible, leaving no doubts in my mind. So if people think I’m a nut because of my family history, what I believe in, what interests me, and what I write. . . .

Well, so be it.

And that was what I had said to myself, punctuating it with a mental shrug, right before I launched into a paranormal conversation with my beautician.

When I told her the story about the blood stain, she surprised me when she shared a story about a haunted house here in town. She told me there was a murder suicide in a two-story house about a mile from where I live, and the people who live there swear it’s haunted.

I wanted to know more, but she didn’t offer up more details about it. Maybe because she didn’t know much more than that, or maybe she was concern I might think she was a nutcase.

Nah, that couldn’t be it, considering I had already confided in her about my family.

I told her when Kevin and I moved here, I had wondered if any of the houses in town were haunted because most of the houses here are old, like a hundred years old.

Not ours though, our house was built in the thirties, and it’s not haunted.

Anyway, as I was leaving, a client came in to get his hair cut and my beautician asked him (to my surprise) if he believed in ghosts. And, again to my surprise ( I was constantly surprised during my appointment) he told her he did. In fact, he claims his house is haunted, and he had thought about calling ‘Ghost Hunters’ to investigate.

When he said that, I thought, damn, I would love to investigate his ghost haunting, but then again, I don’t have the equipment to do it.

He told us that every time he and his wife discuss remodeling the house, something weird happens, like a glass on the kitchen counter shattering all by itself.

Kind of spooky, huh?

Hearing the stories about the two houses makes me wonder if there are more houses in this small town that are haunted. It also makes me wish my dad lived here because then we could get together and start our own investigation team.

Wouldn’t that be fun?

I think so.

I’m just grateful for the experience I have because I can use it to write cool stories, blending fiction with truth, like I did in my 'Beyond the Eyes' series. And if my books do become popular (when they get published), I can share that part of my life with the world as an added bonus to my stories.

Now that would be cool.



Much love.

*blows a kiss*

Be safe and enjoy your weekend. I’m sure you deserve it. :)

1 comment:

  1. The haunted places range from cemeteries to college dorms and hotels, from railroad tracks to graveyards. There are many places where the dead might walk, and all have the potential to become known for being haunted.