The Ghost of the House - A true love story (SWC - Supernatural Writing Contest)

When I was a young girl, there was a ghost in our house. At the time, it was my grandparents’ house, before my mother inherited it. My maternal grandparents were still alive and living downstairs. The Ghost of the House lived there with us. I dubbed him thus, because he has always been there.

My mother saw him when she was young and when she was a bit older too. My father saw him too, though he likes to claim it was an optical illusion. My grandmother seemed unbothered by him and seemed to know he would always be there. I saw him many times, and so did my brother and sister. A few of our friends saw him, those who had an open mind and truly believed us that there was a ghost and that he wasn’t scary. He was a friendly ghost, you see, and while I have seen a few other ghosts in my lifetime and felt disturbed, frightened or just startled, the Ghost of the House brought comfort to us and I was not afraid of him. He was there and he was part of our household.

The Ghost of the House would sometimes flash by, like a quick beam of light, just in front of your eyes. I remember walking through the basement and he went by like that. I said “Dude, a bit a warning next time, you gave me a fright.” I really said that out loud. This was when I was in High School. He acknowledged me with a tinkling clang of something. So the next time I was in the basement and he happened to be there too, I heard a gust and a thud before he flashed by. I think he was passing in front of me to make sure everything was safe. I hate spiders and cobwebs and walking into one always gives me a geebers. It’s possible he made sure there were no spiders. Or flashed his self-beaming ghostly form enough for me to see and avoid them.

As a ghost you’d think he could walk through walls, so I presume that he could. At I think 5, my sister and I were in bed and we saw him walk by in the hall, walking slowly and bouncing about. Our minds made logic of the white glowy figure we had seen and figured it was our dad, walking from my parent’s bedroom, across the hall towards the bathroom. However, when we went to check if it was them, my dad was in bed and so was my mom. And my brother was a baby, unable to walk, and the Ghost of the House is one tall dude. We went to check in the bathrooms, in the playroom (which later became my brother’s room), and there was no one there.

I think that was one of my first encounters with him. There were many. One of my friends in High School saw him too. He was clowning around that day, entertaining us as he went by. Many however, to whom I’ve told the story didn’t believe me. One of my exes didn’t believe me. And the Ghost of the House was gone by that time, so it’s not like he could prove his presence, though he still makes a brief visit every now and then to make sure everything is fine.

You see, he kept us safe! The whole street was robbed once, vandalised, and the like. Everyone on the street has some sort of damage in their yard, house, or something had been stolen. Our house was untouched. And it wasn’t luck. It truly was because the Ghost of the House protected us.

So who was he?

My grandmother, before she passed away, once told me of her very first lover whom she had back in Poland during the war. She had met my grandfather in the aftermath of World War 2, several years after the end of the war, before travelling to Canada. She had lost one husband and two children, I believe at the beginning of the war. It was very tragic. And she had had a very first love, one whom she had called her love. She never called my grandfather her “love” in that same affectionate way I would call Frank my love. So I knew this young man was special. He wanted to marry her, but her family said she was too young to marry. One day, he had to go fight at war and he promised her he would come back and he would wait for her, and protect her for the rest of her life.

He died. And my grandmother never saw him again.

I was 15 when my grandmother passed away. She was like a parent to me, because with my father absent all the time, she would take care of me and raise me when my mother could not. I was their go-between when they got into a fight, and everyone says I was her favourite. We were very close, I loved her very much. We understood each other, both being highly sensitive.

When she died, we all dreamt of her, my mother, my sister, my brother and me. But what she said to me stuck me the most.

In my dream, I was at the drum set my brother and I shared, and she had startled me. She told me not to worry, that everything was fine, and that she was going to have tea with the Ghost of the House now.

Shortly after, the Ghost of the House was gone. Other than a few brief visits, which I believe are to check up on us and make sure we’re still safe, he disappeared and has gone elsewhere.

I believe that the Ghost of the House was “him”, my grandmother’s love, who promised to wait for her and protect her for the rest of her life. Because he protected us all, all the time she was alive, and he waited for her, until she died, so that they could be together eternally in the afterlife.

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