Bare with me, please. These memories are a bit hazy. I can remember being aware of otherworldly presence since I could barely reach the dining table. Although my, how would you call it, senses have been dulled and weakened with age, I have chosen to believe that they haven't quite yet disappeared. My first recollection of such an awareness came when I was living in my mother's home in Colorado Springs. I believe the house was built sometime between the Korean War and Viet Nam. Needless to say it wasn't ancient. My very large family (four boys, three girls: all with big egos) moved in this house circa 1977. I was four years old then. Throughout my life there I was exposed to an abundance of unexplainable events. Some of which occurred in the presence of myself and others. Others were more discriminating. I swear on my mother's good name that everything I'm about to write is true. At the time of this first occurrence, my bedroom was upstairs to the right of what we dubbed the "Front Room". The "Front Room" was a large living area with horridly green carpet and gold wallpaper. It was positioned directly in front of the kitchen; separated by a wall, and two rooms-length away from the family room we called the "Red Rug Room". From the doorway in the Front Room (which led to the kitchen) the Red Rug Room was clearly visible. My first experience occurred from this point of view. It was early in the morning (I would say one or two), and about a year into our residency. I was five years old. Even with the amount of people living in the house I was lucky enough to have my own bedroom upstairs. My mother was in the room next to me while my brothers and sisters all slept downstairs in shared bedrooms. Resentful of this arrangement, many of my siblings would occasionally sleep on the couch upstairs in the Front Room to gain some sense of freedom.
On this morning, it was my oldest sister Linda who occupied the couch (which leaned against the wall between the kitchen and the Front Room). Linda was the oldest sibling living in the house, and also one of the most talented. On a piano we kept in the Red Rug Room, she would compose various songs. One, a fast-tempo, jazz song, she played frequently. I suppose she played it so frequently that whatever or whoever was in that house with us took a liking to it and memorized it. I remember waking up suddenly and sitting directly up in bed. I can remember having the strongest urge to get up and walk into the Red Rug Room. My sister had left the light on in the Front Room, so I felt a little more at ease getting up. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I heard her song playing. It wasn't loud, but it was as though my head was hearing the song more than my ears. I hope that makes sense. It is a very difficult perception to convey. I could hear all the chord changes and notes being played exactly, but the playing itself did not have the familiarity with the song like that of its composer. It almost sounded like a very good rendition of her song. My first thought was to warn her to stop. My mother was very strict and the punishment for playing the piano at two in the morning was likely to be a severe one. This thought was soon replaced with one of intense fear when, upon walking into the Front Room, I saw my sister fast asleep on the couch. Still unable to accept an irrational reason, I suspected that another sibling was playing a practical joke. I approached the couch and shook my sister. Now I have often read that sometimes during poltergeist activity, the "presence" will put some members of a household into a deep trans-like state, while leaving others to "witness" the occurrence. I have conceded that this was the reason behind the fact that my sister did not wake up after repeated "kiddie-punches" to her shoulder. I peeked around the corner to see if another sibling was the culprit. Not only was the room empty; the lights were off in both the kitchen and the Red Rug Room! And most eerie of all: the music stopped playing at the exact moment I peeked around the corner. I turned to my sister and shook her again with as much force as a five-year-old can muster. She didn't even wince. By now the music was enveloping my head. I looked around the corner once more. This time the music continued. As I peered through the darkness with the aid of the light from the Front Room, I could see the keys on the piano gently moving, as if someone or something were pretending to play without making any noise. Perhaps the one thing I have the hardest time remembering is how quickly I was back in my bed. I heard the music playing until I fell asleep. And to this day, I have the feeling that something followed me back to my room....... That day, when I was alone with my sister, I questioned her about it without mentioning what I saw. She indicated that she had the deepest sleep ever... and dreamed she was playing her song on the piano. This was the first experience I remember from my mother's house.
Part 1 Look Mom, No Hands!
ReplyDeleteby N. Martin
Bare with me, please. These memories are a bit hazy. I can remember being aware of otherworldly presence since I could barely reach the dining table. Although my, how would you call it, senses have been dulled and weakened with age, I have chosen to believe that they haven't quite yet disappeared.
My first recollection of such an awareness came when I was living in my mother's home in Colorado Springs. I believe the house was built sometime between the Korean War and Viet Nam. Needless to say it wasn't ancient. My very large family (four boys, three girls: all with big egos) moved in this house circa 1977. I was four years old then. Throughout my life there I was exposed to an abundance of unexplainable events. Some of which occurred in the presence of myself and others. Others were more discriminating. I swear on my mother's good name that everything I'm about to write is true.
At the time of this first occurrence, my bedroom was upstairs to the right of what we dubbed the "Front Room". The "Front Room" was a large living area with horridly green carpet and gold wallpaper. It was positioned directly in front of the kitchen; separated by a wall, and two rooms-length away from the family room we called the "Red Rug Room". From the doorway in the Front Room (which led to the kitchen) the Red Rug Room was clearly visible. My first experience occurred from this point of view.
It was early in the morning (I would say one or two), and about a year into our residency. I was five years old. Even with the amount of people living in the house I was lucky enough to have my own bedroom upstairs. My mother was in the room next to me while my brothers and sisters all slept downstairs in shared bedrooms. Resentful of this arrangement, many of my siblings would occasionally sleep on the couch upstairs in the Front Room to gain some sense of freedom.
Part 2 Look Mom, No Hands!
ReplyDeleteby N. Martin
On this morning, it was my oldest sister Linda who occupied the couch (which leaned against the wall between the kitchen and the Front Room). Linda was the oldest sibling living in the house, and also one of the most talented. On a piano we kept in the Red Rug Room, she would compose various songs. One, a fast-tempo, jazz song, she played frequently. I suppose she played it so frequently that whatever or whoever was in that house with us took a liking to it and memorized it.
I remember waking up suddenly and sitting directly up in bed. I can remember having the strongest urge to get up and walk into the Red Rug Room. My sister had left the light on in the Front Room, so I felt a little more at ease getting up. As soon as my feet hit the floor, I heard her song playing. It wasn't loud, but it was as though my head was hearing the song more than my ears. I hope that makes sense. It is a very difficult perception to convey. I could hear all the chord changes and notes being played exactly, but the playing itself did not have the familiarity with the song like that of its composer. It almost sounded like a very good rendition of her song.
My first thought was to warn her to stop. My mother was very strict and the punishment for playing the piano at two in the morning was likely to be a severe one. This thought was soon replaced with one of intense fear when, upon walking into the Front Room, I saw my sister fast asleep on the couch.
Still unable to accept an irrational reason, I suspected that another sibling was playing a practical joke. I approached the couch and shook my sister. Now I have often read that sometimes during poltergeist activity, the "presence" will put some members of a household into a deep trans-like state, while leaving others to "witness" the occurrence. I have conceded that this was the reason behind the fact that my sister did not wake up after repeated "kiddie-punches" to her shoulder.
I peeked around the corner to see if another sibling was the culprit. Not only was the room empty; the lights were off in both the kitchen and the Red Rug Room! And most eerie of all: the music stopped playing at the exact moment I peeked around the corner. I turned to my sister and shook her again with as much force as a five-year-old can muster. She didn't even wince.
By now the music was enveloping my head. I looked around the corner once more. This time the music continued. As I peered through the darkness with the aid of the light from the Front Room, I could see the keys on the piano gently moving, as if someone or something were pretending to play without making any noise.
Perhaps the one thing I have the hardest time remembering is how quickly I was back in my bed. I heard the music playing until I fell asleep. And to this day, I have the feeling that something followed me back to my room.......
That day, when I was alone with my sister, I questioned her about it without mentioning what I saw. She indicated that she had the deepest sleep ever... and dreamed she was playing her song on the piano.
This was the first experience I remember from my mother's house.