READERS TALES...Suicide and Specters

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READERS TALES

Suicide and Specters

(NOTE: Here's a couple of interesting little tales...They occurred in the winter of 1974, in Morris Township, New Jersey.)

Suicide:

From age 7 through 15 my family rented an old, dilapidated house perched on the side of a wooded hill. I enjoyed the woods and surrounding creeks, where I played alone, but the house frightened me, perhaps with good reason. The landlady was honest from the first day: the father of the family who rented the house before us committed suicide in the garage. He shut the doors and let his car run until he died from breathing carbon monoxide. When we moved in, the garage doors were gone.

The garage always bothered me...especially the back. I would never step more than a few feet inside, just enough to grab my bicycles or the garbage cans. My job was to take the trash to the curb for the morning pickup and occasionally I wouldn't get to it until it was dark. I was very afraid to go down to the garage on those nights. I always felt a frightening presence in that place. The garage was a cinder-block affair, built into the side of the hill (the house was actually above it) and I was always seeing smoky shapes on the walls, especially the far walls. They were black and dark blue. My parents maintained the dark patches were moisture. But to me they were the origin-point of my fear.

Specters:

The house offered little protection from the weather; it was terribly hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. Our winter discomfort was intensified by my mother's insistence on keeping the thermostat very low...these were the years of the Energy Crisis, after all, and we used oil to heat the house. My father had asthma and wouldn't sleep upstairs, where it was colder, most of the winter. My mother turned off the radiator in my room on those nights and I slept in my parents' room, in my father's bed. I had two spectral visitations one winter, while in that bed.

The first occurred when I was about 10 years old. I awoke in the middle of the night to a feeling of incredible, dry heat, "baking" my neck. My eyes were closed and I scratched at my hot skin. I realized this heat was rather strange, given how cold it was. I was suddenly uncomfortable and popped my eyes open...to meet a terrifying sight.

In the far corner of the bedroom stood some sort of entity. It was shaped like a man, but lacked any features. It was blacker than night, so black it shone like a wet oilskin. It had no face per se, but something worse: a blazing white grin. That's all. No eyes, no hair, just this awful, mocking, strobe-light smile. I screamed and dove into my mother's bed. My father woke up and called from downstairs. My mother explained that I had a nightmare. But it was no nightmare.

A few weeks later I had another experience, again in that bed, on a cold winter morning, with just enough light in the room to see. I awoke as before, but this time without feeling disturbed. Beside my bed floated an angel; a stereotypical naked little cherub with wings, believe it or not. It slowly floated upward, all the time looking at me impassively. I followed it with my eyes until it neared the ceiling and faded away.

I was left with a feeling of peace after that. The Black Thing had, up to that point, been weighing heavily on my mind. But seeing the Angel took the edge off my fear. I felt...protected?

That was some 25 years ago. I still hesitate when awakening at night, wondering if the Black Thing might again appear. But I don't think so. What it was, or what the Angel was, I can't explain. Was it related to the suicide? I don't really think so. I speculate they were associated with the awful family problems going on in my home...some sort of manifestation of my own anxiety. If so, then they won't be back, as those problems are ancient history, now.

-Unsigned-