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[002/365] GHOSTS
So this summer I went to a friend's graduation. At the time I was home in the Isle of Man, so I had to travel to Coventry. I agreed to meet up with a friend at Leamington after the ceremony, then spend the night with another friend on campus. Plans went smoothly enough, and I got to the graduation ceremony on time. I was told to meet with my friend at 7pm at the top of Leamington parade. I got there in good time, to notice a text saying that she would be an hour late. So I decided to go to the student house I had stayed in last year. This is what I want to talk about.
Strictly, it wasn't my house at all - the lease had expired at the end of term and ownership fully returned to the landlord. But I knew he wouldn't be there - he had said him and his family were away for the holiday - and out of habit I had brought the old key along with me. So I figured there would be no problem in me being in there for a while, just to keep out of the cold.
When I entered the house.. something happened. It was as though the house was not expecting me, like I had caught it in the act of doing something sinister. A stab of electricity shot down my spine, and I felt momentarily light-headed and queasy. I wish I could explain it better, for myself more than anyone. I turned on as many lights as I could around the house, and plugged in an old radio (which turned out not to work) to make the place seem more... alive. It didn't work. I couldn't shake the feeling that things were moving around me, outside my vision. I began to swivel my head sharply as though to 'surprise' whatever was happening. Obviously, I saw nothing. But I was convinced that behind me the house was performing some churning machination that it didn't want me to see.
Needless to say, when I met up with my friend, I drank heavily.
At around 11pm I took the 12 bus home. I had with me my (expired) bus pass, another pointless possession brought out of habit. The bus driver barely glanced at it, and I got on, thinking to myself how weird it was for the 12 not to be teeming with students like it normally was. In fact, I was the only passenger on. The bus was different too, an upgraded model with nicer upholstery and curved railings to hold onto. Near the front of the bus there was a large full-colour CCTV screen flicking between various shots. Idly I watched as the screen went from one shot to another; first showing the ground floor, then looking out through the door. Then two shots of upstairs, the second focussed closely on the back few seats. After a while my thoughts turned, for the first time since I had entered the house, of the sensation I felt as I passed the threshold. As I contemplated, the screen flicked to the shot of the back seats. Only this time there were three figures sitting there.
Except, there weren't. I had felt the same stab of electricity, only this time coupled with the shock of recognition and surprise that could only occur if a person materialised in front of me. But the seats were empty; I could see it plainly. My full concentration was fixed on the screen now; each time the back seats were shown I felt the same thrill of recognition - for I knew who these people were, I knew them as well as if they were full corporeal, sitting right beside me - and each time I could see nothing. Save perhaps, the faintest of shadows, three shadows, restlessly shifting. I longed to see them properly.
But now I can see them. I see them all the time. Sometimes in the corner of my eye.
Sometimes right in front of me.
And now I know why I felt as I did when entering my old house.
I hope to God you'll never have to see them too.
Strictly, it wasn't my house at all - the lease had expired at the end of term and ownership fully returned to the landlord. But I knew he wouldn't be there - he had said him and his family were away for the holiday - and out of habit I had brought the old key along with me. So I figured there would be no problem in me being in there for a while, just to keep out of the cold.
When I entered the house.. something happened. It was as though the house was not expecting me, like I had caught it in the act of doing something sinister. A stab of electricity shot down my spine, and I felt momentarily light-headed and queasy. I wish I could explain it better, for myself more than anyone. I turned on as many lights as I could around the house, and plugged in an old radio (which turned out not to work) to make the place seem more... alive. It didn't work. I couldn't shake the feeling that things were moving around me, outside my vision. I began to swivel my head sharply as though to 'surprise' whatever was happening. Obviously, I saw nothing. But I was convinced that behind me the house was performing some churning machination that it didn't want me to see.
Needless to say, when I met up with my friend, I drank heavily.
At around 11pm I took the 12 bus home. I had with me my (expired) bus pass, another pointless possession brought out of habit. The bus driver barely glanced at it, and I got on, thinking to myself how weird it was for the 12 not to be teeming with students like it normally was. In fact, I was the only passenger on. The bus was different too, an upgraded model with nicer upholstery and curved railings to hold onto. Near the front of the bus there was a large full-colour CCTV screen flicking between various shots. Idly I watched as the screen went from one shot to another; first showing the ground floor, then looking out through the door. Then two shots of upstairs, the second focussed closely on the back few seats. After a while my thoughts turned, for the first time since I had entered the house, of the sensation I felt as I passed the threshold. As I contemplated, the screen flicked to the shot of the back seats. Only this time there were three figures sitting there.
Except, there weren't. I had felt the same stab of electricity, only this time coupled with the shock of recognition and surprise that could only occur if a person materialised in front of me. But the seats were empty; I could see it plainly. My full concentration was fixed on the screen now; each time the back seats were shown I felt the same thrill of recognition - for I knew who these people were, I knew them as well as if they were full corporeal, sitting right beside me - and each time I could see nothing. Save perhaps, the faintest of shadows, three shadows, restlessly shifting. I longed to see them properly.
But now I can see them. I see them all the time. Sometimes in the corner of my eye.
Sometimes right in front of me.
And now I know why I felt as I did when entering my old house.
I hope to God you'll never have to see them too.
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