Mary Castillo
Was my childhood home really haunted, or was it my imagination?
I prefer the first possibility especially considering that we not only had anecdotal evidence, but real proof that the woman who called our names, slammed doors and windows and appeared at the foot of the bed, was earthbound.
Those experiences were great fodder for the experiences of my reluctant psychic, Dori Orihuela in Lost in the Light and Girl in the Mist.
The real proof came when I was 17 years old and our ghost started acting up. Lights wouldn't just switch off; we would see the switch turning! My mom and I decided to look for her burial place and bring her flowers in the hopes that she'd calm down. I called every cemetery with her name - we knew she was the previous owner of the house. When I confirmed her location, we clipped roses and lilies from the yard and jumped in the car. Following the directions from the cemetery staff, there she was buried alongside her husband under a tree. But what made us stop cold was her photo: I had seen her at the age of four when she told me she would always be my friend but I wouldn't see her any more. My dad had seen her standing at the foot of his bed when he woke up in the middle of the night.
My parents no longer live in the house but since that day, our ghost only made herself known when she didn't like a paint color my mom was considering or wanted to say hi.
I prefer the first possibility especially considering that we not only had anecdotal evidence, but real proof that the woman who called our names, slammed doors and windows and appeared at the foot of the bed, was earthbound.
Those experiences were great fodder for the experiences of my reluctant psychic, Dori Orihuela in Lost in the Light and Girl in the Mist.
The real proof came when I was 17 years old and our ghost started acting up. Lights wouldn't just switch off; we would see the switch turning! My mom and I decided to look for her burial place and bring her flowers in the hopes that she'd calm down. I called every cemetery with her name - we knew she was the previous owner of the house. When I confirmed her location, we clipped roses and lilies from the yard and jumped in the car. Following the directions from the cemetery staff, there she was buried alongside her husband under a tree. But what made us stop cold was her photo: I had seen her at the age of four when she told me she would always be my friend but I wouldn't see her any more. My dad had seen her standing at the foot of his bed when he woke up in the middle of the night.
My parents no longer live in the house but since that day, our ghost only made herself known when she didn't like a paint color my mom was considering or wanted to say hi.
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