Something wicked this way comes: Scary tales 1

Halloween is by far my favorite time of year. I have always simply adored every facets of this time of year; from getting to dress up as a character, to the sweets and foods, to the decor, to all the scary and spooky things that go on. 

I love haunted houses and scary movies, what can I say I like to be scared. Well that might not be perfectly accurate. I like to be scared in perfectly safe environments, which I feel haunted houses and scary movies are. I am lucky in the fact that a good majority of my friends are haunters, so should I like I have no end of choices of excellent haunts to go to.

Sometimes I think I have become a little desensitized to all of it though. It takes one hell of a haunted house or scary movie to actually scare me these days. I wonder if this is because I have seen so many scary movies and been through so many haunted houses that I know what to expect. Possibly I am analyzing them all to no end. Or maybe it is something more.

My original love of all things scary comes from ghost stories. Not just the spooky tales told around the campfire, but the actual stories of  hauntings. I have had more than my fair share of actual ghostly and paranormal encounters. Perhaps all of this real life hands on experience has jaded me somewhat to scares. Or perhaps it has just fed my desire for more.

I was inspired by Sarah to share some real ghost stories. So for the rest of the week leading up to Halloween I will be sharing a ghost story with you. Some of them will be my own experiences, some will be experiences from friends, but they will all be true stories, whether you believe them or not.
And I would love to hear your stories as well if you have any.

Today's story will be a short one* since I have already rambled on a bit.

The girl in the mirror

When I was a junior and senior in high school I used to spend a lot of time over at my best friends house. She lived in a nice house with her parents and sister and grandmother about halfway between my house and school. I think we mostly hung out there because my house was always filled with my brother and his friends.

I spent many a night sleeping on her couch, and in general bumming around her house. The bathroom that my friend shared with her sister and grandmother was rather small and right beside the kitchen. If you stood in the doorway to the bathroom facing out you could turn to your right and see into the kitchen, to your left was a short narrow hallway to the front entryway, and straight ahead was another short narrow hall with the girls bedrooms at the end of it. The hall between the front door and kitchen was used a lot as it was the shortest path through the house. Since the bathroom sink and mirror were opposite the door, you could always see who was coming and going from the kitchen if the door was open.

I had stayed over at the house for months and had never noticed anything strange. It was a typical sort of house. Then one evening I was brushing my teeth with the door open, and as I was bending down to spit I caught a glimpse of something in the mirror that made me stop. A girl with black hair had just walked from the kitchen towards the front door. My best friend and her mother were redheads, her sister was a blond, and her grandmother was bed bound. I was the only person in the house with dark hair.

I decided I had been seeing things and went on about my evening. I never said anything about it. A few more visits passed and I saw nothing else strange. I was convinced I had just imagined seeing something. Then one day I was getting cleaned up for breakfast and I saw her again. This time she was standing at the end of the hall near the bedroom doors staring at me. She was young and pale with very dark hair, but I for the life of me can not tell you anything else about her. I am pretty sure she was more than just a head but it was hard tot ell because she was at the end of the hall and over my shoulder in the reflection. When I turned to look there was no one there.

I mentioned it that time to the family. I shouldn't have been surprised that no one seemed terribly shocked. They all mentioned having caught glimpses of someone walking past in the mirror when no one should have been there. I was just the first one to see her clearly.

I saw her about a dozen more times in the next year or so, but never more than just a glimpse. It never stopped being incredibly creepy and it got to the point where I would shut the bathroom door no matter what so that I would not have to see her anymore.



*Ok so that wasn't as short as I thought it was, but compared to the rest of my haunting stories it is short.