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The Family Ghost

My family moved into a not so old house in an industrial area of Chicago in the late 1940's. Not long after moving in, it was noticed that there was a ghost about the house. In the beginning the ghost was more of an annoyance than anything else. Two of my sisters were born after the family moved in. The ghost, who appeared in a triangular shape with a round woman's head was seen frequently about the girl's room. Over the years the ghost became a source of amusement. The ghost would sometimes appear in the afternoon when the girls came home from school. For my sisters it was a chance to scare the dickens out of their friends. For added pleasure the ghost would appear during slumber parties. On more than one occasion girls would run screaming out of the house in the dark of night never again to set foot in the house.

I came along in 1961. The ghost's entire demeanor changed as I was the first of the boys to live in the house. After the ghost was found hovering over my bed at night, it became a family ritual for someone to check on me every hour during the night. Things became worse when I was three. My mother was at the far end of the hallway and called me from the living room. As I ran to her the ghost materialized between us. My mother and a sister witnessed what happened next. As I entered through the ghost I went into a spin and landed in my mother's arms in such a way that my mother's cigarette went into my left eye. My mother hurried me into the bathroom and held my head under the bath faucet. I'm legally blind in my left eye.

We left Chicago in 1968, and moved to the middle of nowhere New Mexico. The remainder of my family, my mother, younger brother and I moved into a house built in 1907. There was a lot of work to be done as the house had been abandoned for a while. After a year of work, a third bedroom at the back of the house was restored enough for me to move in. For the first time in my life, I had a room of my own. Meanwhile, back in Chicago, the old family house was torn down to make room for condos.

I enjoyed the freedom of my new room, but didn't get to enjoy it for very long. I awoke one night to find the ghost hovering at the far end of the room. Thinking I would find safety under my quilt, I tried to hide. The quilt was pulled down as I felt a pressure on my neck. My airway became constricted as I struggled to breathe. I tried to rise from the bed to go to my mother's room, but was forced back down. This battle went on for at least fifteen minutes, but maybe as long as a half hour.

Finally, inexplicably, the ghost disappeared and the pressure on my throat was gone. I was still wheezing pretty bad as I crawled on all fours to my mother's bed. I told her through my wheezing what had happened, but in the fog of her sleepiness she told me that I'd probably had an asthma attack. She allowed me to sleep with her, but she got up early and left for work.

As usual that morning, I woke both my brother, and myself, dressed and fed both of us and made our way to school. Not long after class started my teacher noticed some severe welts on my neck. I was sent to the principal's office. The small town school nurse was summoned from her office in the admin building. My mother was called, and my wound was treated.

I didn't sleep in that room again until a mural was completed over my bed and a large crucifix hung. A minister was summoned, and the house was blessed for good measure.

The ghost was never seen again.

-Jet Hawk.