I never believed in this paranormal hocus pocus nonsense, especially when my friend, Carmen, would tell me my gran had popped in to check up on me, so I'd better be good. I'd tell her to bugger off with her crappy jokes and she would shrug her shoulders and tell me she's just a messenger. I didn't want to believe. I didn't want people thinking I'm weird. Until that morning...
Carmen, crappy jokes friend, had been in an abusive relationship for several months and after some time, I'd eavesdropped on her talking to herself - well, not exactly to herself. It was as though she were talking to someone and said someone was answering her.
Sometimes she'd laugh as though she'd heard the funniest joke and other times she looked irritated. Perhaps there was someone else telling her to get out of the relationship. She didn't like me telling her she deserved better than what she was accepting. She'd stomp off and tell me I don't know what I'm talking about.
Does my grown friend have an imaginary pal? I wanted to ask her but how the heck do you ask an adult that question? And is one ever prepared for the answer?
We'd been friends for over ten years. I knew her as well as I knew myself until she got involved with Nick. I knew about her friend Justin who'd passed away because I was there through it all - the tears, the sorrow, the guilt and finally the acceptance. Justin had been a sweet soul and they'd been best friends - until he got lost amongst wrong friends and drugs.
Carmen and I were sitting in the living room, paging through some old photo albums when Nick walked in. She immediately tensed up and I secretly rubbed her back to help her relax, to let her know I had her back - Nick was one scary dude but if I had to, I'd pick up something heavy and clobber him over the head with it. I'd had enough of seeing my friend trying to hide her bruises, making excuses for Nick's behaviour and slowly withdraw from our circle of friends.
"I told you to get rid of that shiat".
I had no idea what he was referring to until he grabbed the album and flung it across the room.
"What's your problem, Nick. They're just old pictures," I'd said.
He told me to shut up or I'd end up just like Carmen and grabbed her up by the shoulder telling her he'd warned her.
I tried to step between them but he pushed me away so hard I went sprawling the length of the living room. I remember thinking, please help us. Someone please help us.
The next scene is like something from a movie. I'd gotten up to go back to help Carmen but she'd managed to free herself from Nick's grip.
Hey, but when I got closer I noticed Nick was somehow being blocked from reaching Carmen - by a man. A young man. Justin!?!?!? Nick was also clutching at his throat as though he were choking but nothing was touching him - not even Justin. Could he even? He didn't look like solid - more like, flip, I don't know how to explain it. He just wasn't like you and me - something you could touch and feel.
It's been a few weeks now and while Justin's appearance scared the black outta my skin pigmentation, I'm just glad to have my friend back.
I've had two other experiences since then - perhaps I'll share but it's taken a lot for me to share this one. So perhaps I will - just not soon.
Carmen is doing well with the help and support of family and friends and she's kind of chuffed to have someone to share ghost stories with. I've told her about this website - I hope she comes.