Belated Ghost Story

Since my computer was declared dead on Halloween, I was unable to post it on my blog. I was fortunate enough to get my data back and a spunky new computer, so I decided to share the story I had already written. This was for Quinn's Boo-Fest.

Have I seen a ghost? My cousin says I have. I hardly remember it, which is kind of freaky.

She and I were staying in Bournemouth, England, and shared a studio room with two beds. I was so freaked out by insects, that I insisted we always kept the windows shut, and we planted b-vitamin pills everywhere + we had a mosquito sound repellant and an electricity thingy to keep them away. What can I say? I‘m from Iceland.

Does that have anything to do with the ghost? Absolutely not, but it made the air stuffy in the room that night. My cousin, Thora (yes, female for “Thor”), told me the morning after that I’d freaked out in the night, and she’s not one to make something like this up. Apparently it went something like this:

The bedcovers lay heavily on my chest as I slept. I dreamt of the wolf in the green hill behind my parents’ house…where there is no actual green hill. Not to mention that there are no wolves in Iceland. Anyway. The wolf just looked at me, as always, and then walked away.

I stirred in my sleep, kicking the covers loose. I turned to the side and my eyes opened a crack. A teenage girl sat on the edge of Thora’s bed. She wore a grey, sleeveless dress; it looked like it was made of wool. Her white shirt underneath shone in the moonlight behind her. She stared straight at me with her moon-like face.

I bolted up in my bed. She just sat there with no particular expression. What was she doing in our room?

“Thora,” I whined. My heart thudded against my chest. It couldn’t be a ghost! I didn’t want to see a ghost! I’d always been so afraid to see one!

“Thora, Thora, Thora!” I called when she didn’t wake up.

Thora jerked awake and raised herself up. “What is it?”

“There’s a girl over there!” I said, pointing at the girl, who just sat and watched me. “Go away!” I whined.

“What are you talking about,” Thora said, turning to see. “There’s no one there.”

I looked at Thora. She didn’t look scared, she just looked tired, her voice all sleepy. I looked back at the end of her bed to prove her wrong, but the girl was gone.

I don’t remember at what point I fell asleep again. When I woke in the morning, I just barely remembered the girl.

I hardly remember her at all today. In fact, I’d forgotten all about her until I saw her again last night.

Okay, I didn’t see her again last night, but you have to end a story with a punch. I’d really forgotten all about her until my cousin mentioned that I’d seen a ghost when we were talking about ghosts (Icelanders do that a lot). And yes, she’s absolutely sure that I was awake and not sleep-seeing/walking.

Freaky? Absolutely!

I just had to add one more thing. I was such a chicken when it came to finding a photo for this. I scrolled down once when I looked up the word "ghost" and then there were pictures of ghosts from horror movies that I never watch. Ugh. Now I can't get this one picture out of my mind. I ended up x-ing the browser and found an innocent picture of Jennifer Love Hewitt. Enjoy.

Chapter 52.5: Evil Dead, the Musical

My wife and I had an unexpectedly pleasant Off-Broadway theater experience recently -- Evil Dead, the Musical.

Better than the films (which isn't saying much), the play is actually a mixture of all three Evil Dead movies (well, primarily the first two with references to the third that perhaps only the cognoscenti would get).

Vulgar and campy to be sure, and a little sticky. The songs actually stick with you too, but how can anyone forget lyrics like "What the fuck was that!" in the song "What the F@%$"

Not a musical for children (or perhaps the perfect demograhic is an 11 year old boy) because the language and the occasional dry-humping, etc. is clearly R-rated. In the first act, the sister of the hero is the first person to become possessed by the evilness that has been unleashed by reading chants from the Necronomicon (Book of the Dead). She eventually causes all the rest of the characters to be possessed at one time or another.

There's an enjoyable dance of the dead scene called "Do the Necronomicon" with passing references not only to the Time Warp from Rocky Horror but also Fonzie from Happy Days.

Before the second act, the first three rows of seats (where we were sitting) get baggies with clear plastic ponchos. The fake blood really flows in the climatic killing spree toward the end. It's so bad that you can't help but laugh.

I probably wouldn't pay more than the special $26 ticket for the show, but I recommend getting the splatter zone to enjoy the whole experience.