Invisible Terrestrial Entity ...Part 1
Okay, I’m scared.
I’ve seen a few ghosts over the course of my life and even Raj, my Physics Professor friend, admits I’m a sensitive—and he's a skeptic.
But what I never considered, was the exact nature of these murky forms, and the fact that my house was way more than haunted—it was actually menacing, in a very disturbing way.
I’m not talking about ordinary ghosts—Raj calls these manifestations Invisible Terrestrial Entities—and he’s got proof—he’s got digital images that he’s even downloaded to my i-phone, probably so I can comfort myself at night, knowing I’m being surveilled by an alien presence.
I know this all seems overwhelming and you must think this is some kind of weird science or paranormal hype—but you wouldn’t say that if you met Raj—he’s got a poker face, flat voice and the monosyllabic replies of a computer.
Actually think Kimball Cho, the wooden soldier-type detective from The Mentalist TV series, and you’ll get the picture.
Kimball, err, I mean, Raj, is no-nonsense and as poker-faced as they come, and he has an IQ of 165. So if Raj says it’s so, you can take it to the bank.
But you know what? This is sounding crazy.
Maybe I should relate the events to you as they occurred so you can see why I’m so upset.
I should begin by saying I’m in no way scientific—quite the opposite. I teach a course on The Romantics at the U of T and when I’m not lecturing beautiful coeds, I’m writing novels about romancing them.
Have I managed to interest any of these beauties? Sure, in my dreams.
I say this so you’ll understand I’m an incurable romantic, and partly to offer some excuse for my absolute stupidity in allowing one of these entities to occupy my house.
It all began one rainy night last fall after chatting with Raj on the phone.
“So, how’s the new romance novel going—is this going to be a modern Wuthering Heights?”
“C’mon Raj—you know me—it’s probably a desperate way to channel my angst, sublimate my urges.”
“Wow! Couldn’t have said it better myself, Prof. Well, maybe I could sum it up more concisely in a short phrase—Get a life.”
I could picture the brittle smile on Raj’s face and believe me, that was more devastating than having a lecture room full of beautiful coeds laughing at me.
“You’re right—I need to get out and meet people. Actually, there’s a girl in my graduate class that seems interested—okay, maybe just somewhat—but I may ask her out.”
“Yeah, you do that, and stop using writing as a way to lucid dream about her. Either she’s interested or she’s not.”
After I got off the phone with Raj, I felt deflated.
I had been fantasizing about Emma Watterson—a beautiful girl with soft brown hair and huge dark eyes. Whenever she happened to gaze at me I lost all concentration and stumbled over my words.
She must have thought me incompetent—or maybe she saw me as charming, in a bumbling, klutzy geek way some girls find irresistible in academics.
Or, maybe I really do need to get a life.
The past few nights I had been having the most vivid dreams about her and when I awoke, I felt totally bereft and abandoned, especially when I’d dream of holding her in my arms or kissing her.
I know, it sounds incredibly pathetic, but I swear it felt so real.
And just as I was thinking of her, I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye. But when I turned to look, it was gone.
This type of activity happened almost every time I was alone in the house and I became convinced that somehow Emma was a sensitive like me and was trying to contact me.
I read somewhere these type of manifestations occur, although rarely, and if they did, it was vitally important to create a welcoming atmosphere to encourage communication.
I walked to the foot of the stairs where I had glimpses of her shadowy form and called out, “Don’t be shy—I’m not afraid. You’re welcome here.”
I couldn’t think of anything more to do or say, so I shut off the lights and went upstairs to bed.
And it was then I made my first contact.
i am glad you made the contact finally :D nice writing :)
thank you!