Robert

"So how's your boyfriend?"

I try to ignore Kyle but I suddenly find him to resemble an annoying gnat more than a man. Ever since I got out of the hospital, things have been distant between Jason and myself... I can't deny that. But I also have no desire to talk about it with Kyle while on a case. 

I had been on vacation in Key West, attempting to bond with my parents, when Kyle and the other guys just showed up, dragging me off with some story about a possessed doll. 

I stand before the doll now and I realize I didn't need them to tell me anything about him... I already know all about this doll,  thanks to Him. 

"Hello, Robert," I say with a nervous smile on my face. "You look very nice today."

A silence fills the room and I can feel Kyle just staring at me. 

"Uh..." He laughs nervously. "Do you make it a habit of talking to dolls?"

I smile at him. It's nice to put the know-it-all in his place sometimes. "I guess you don't know everything about this doll. He's been known to kill people who are rude to him. So," I added, looking back at the doll who had somehow gotten out of his plexiglass case, "I would recommend giving him a compliment right about now."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A new adventure for Micah Meyers! 

Meet Robert--one of my childhood fears. He is a possessed doll from the 19th century, infamous in Key West. He's pretty creepy (just look at that face!) and has been known to break cameras, break legs, kill, and even find a way out of his case...

a.r.w.

Phone

It's a very special phone book. I can't tell you where I got it or who gave it to me. All I know is one day it was in my hand. 

As I flipped through its pages, it took me a moment before I realized that I recognized each of the names written in a simple, neat script. But they weren't the names of my friends... Each of these people had died. All that was written in the phone book was their name and a phone number, each one different--specific just for them. 

I could call my best friend who died suddenly when I was nine. Or my grandfather who had only just died a few years ago. 

The phone book frightened me at first but then one day when I came home from school to learn that my parents were separating, I finally decided to dial one of the numbers in the book. 

The phone rang and rang and rang. And just when I thought I would get the operator, someone picked up. My grandmother. 

Don't ask me how I knew it was her. I just do. It was something in my soul. 

After that, I found myself using the phone book to call family and friends I had lost too soon. 

For months the phone book was mine--all mine--until I learned that my friend's little brother had just passed away after being diagnosed with cancer. 

I ran to their house as quick as I could and was engulfed in the suffocating grief. I spent the afternoon with the family, cooking dinner for them, doing their laundry, and offering hugs when I could. 

As I went to leave for the night, something made me stop and turn back to my friend's mom. 

"I-" I started but stopped, wondering what they would think of me. The feeling of the phone book in my bag hung down on me, weighing me down. This was something I could not keep from them--the power of the phone book needed to be shared. "I think I know of a way to talk with Julian."

My friend's dad who was a bit old fashioned, scowled at me. "Our son is in heaven," he informed me. "We won't be able to speak with him again until we join him."

"You're wrong." I knew there could have been a better way to handle the situation but I didn't want his beliefs to get in the way of his wife and daughter talking to Julian again. This phone book had been a precious gift to me and I knew it would bless them just as much as it had blessed me. "There is a way," I declared, pulling the phone book out of my bag. 

"A notebook?" My friend shook her head, clearly confused. 

"A phone book," I corrected her before opening it and flipping through it. "It has the name of every person I've ever known who passed away--my friend Katie, my grandparents, Brad from school..." My voice drifted off as I came to the final and newest name in the book. "And Julian," I whispered, placing the book in his mother's hands. 

She stared down at the name and the assigned number beside it, trembling. 

"How?" She looked up to me for answers though I had none to give. 

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. But I do know that it works. I've talked to everyone in here. But I think you should be the one to talk with Julian."

"It's witchcraft!" My friend's dad shouted, trying to rip the book from his wife's hands. 

"It's not witchcraft," I tried to defend though I knew how difficult that might be to believe. "If you don't believe me, try it--call him."

"I think you should leave."

"I want to try."

We all turned to look and see my friend's mom with her phone in her hand, the number already dialed. 

"Claire," her husband tried to stop her.

She just shook her head. "I have to try," she whispered as she pressed CALL. 

We all stood in silence, waiting to see what would happened. The family was about to give up but I knew it took seven rings before they picked up and as my friend's mom let out a gasp, I knew it had worked. 

"Julian?" Her voice was light and airy but her eyes were wide open as she spun around to look at me. I gave a smile, urging her to go on. She slowly turned and whispered, "Julian, it's mommy..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Six years ago today we got a phone call telling us that my dad's dad had just died. Almost eight months ago, my brother joined him over There. Death is a strange thing...

Julian was the name of a young boy also in Roswell while Jed was there. The doctors sent him home to die, giving him just 100 days to live... That was last August. 

Today's writing prompt was "a ringing phone"... I wish I had a phone book to call each of them and just sit and talk. So many talks I took for granted...

a.r.w.

Flower Lady

 

There's a little old lady

I see her around

She's one of the ghosts that follows me

Selling flowers throughout town

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

There is this old lady I see sometimes on my way home from work. I usually see her at night when it is raining and she is always holding a bouquet of flowers in her hand, hoping to sell them. Twice now I've passed her going into the grocery story, thinking, I'll get some change and then buy her flowers. But each time I come out of the store she vanishes from sight. She's a mystery! A ghostly flower lady!

 

Every so often a small child looks at you or maybe just slightly to the left or right of you, fascinated. But when you turn to see what it is they're staring at, there's nothing there. Maybe they're more in tune with the spirit world and see what we cannot. Maybe we all have different ghosts walking with us through this journey of life. Sometimes I like to think I have a whole collection of ghosts following me around.

 

Only 10--TEN!!--days until Halloween!!

 

a.r.w.

 



 

 

Notebook

I kneel down, trying to ignore the old rusted autopsy table beside me. It's been some time since I've been to an insane asylum; they always make me uneasy... as if the spirits of this place will recognize me as one of their own and keep me forever.

"Micah?" I can hear Kyle from down the hall.

We've only been here for a few minutes and He's already whispered in my ear to wander--my wandering has  brought me to the basement much to my dismay.

"Micah! Where'd you go?"

Kyle and his two friends come bumbling into the room. I still wish I hadn't come. There are few thing worse than rookie ghost hunters and it looks to me as if these guys just bought their equipment yesterday.

One of them shines his flashlight in my eyes. I wince. Ever since the possession, I've been sensitive to light.

"Oh," he mutters, dropping the damn thing. "Sorry."

"What'd you find?" Kyle seems oblivious to the exchange, his eyes locked on what I have in my hand.

I look down. I forgot that I picked it up.

I shrug and hand it to him. "It's a little notebook."

"This thing has got to be a hundred years old." He begins flipping through the old yellowed pages.

I don't know why He brought me down here but I always try to listen to him when he talks... it's usually a rarity. But suddenly, there is a chill in the air and I find myself wishing to be anywhere else in the world right now. Anywhere but this basement.

"Can we go?" I ask suddenly; the panic in my voice surprises me.

"It's full of names," Kyle continues to ignore everything in the room other than himself.

"It's probably just the doctor keeping records of the people who died here," Kyle's friend Garret chimes in. "We are in a morgue after all."

"Can we please go?" I raise my voice, His voice echoing my words in my head, It's time to go.

"I'm with demon girl," the third one--Jay--inches his way toward me. I hate his nickname for me, and I'm sure he wouldn't like my nickname for him--the scaredy cat. But right now, I don't care who my ally is as long as I have one. "Hello?" he calls out to his friends once more.

"Hold on a minute!" Kyle almost sounds annoyed at us. His eyes are locked on a page in the little notebook, wide and bewildered. His eyes jump up to me for a moment as He screams in my ear, GET OUT OF HERE!

Kyle shudders as if he can hear His warning too. "Your name is written in here, Micah."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Today's writing prompt was "a little notebook" and I immediately wanted to continue writing about Micah Meyers, the demon possessed girl from my October 2nd story, Brave. I haven't actually had a chance to sit down and write anything in a long time now, so this felt good to get out while dinner was cooking.

 

I also created a bunch of little spiders today! Here is the result of my second creation from yesterday... I think they enjoyed making their spooky, cooky looking crowns!

 

 

 

Only 11 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.



Hitchhike

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

Ah! There you are! And just in time... There's a little matter I forgot to mention: Beware of hitchhiking ghosts!

 

These are the three ghosts from my favorite ride at Disney World--the Haunted Mansion. I've recently fallen even more in love with this trio after discovering that there is a pin set that features them (yes, I am one of those poor unfortunate souls [see what I did there?] that is absolutely obsessed with Disney pin trading). I managed to find two out of the three during my honeymoon in August but I am still missing the short hairy guy! So if you find yourself at Disney any time soon and happen upon him, remember me?

 

 

These three ghosts appear at the end of the ride and their names are Phineas (the traveler), Ezra (the skeleton), and Gus (the prisoner)... Phineas is my favorite. They're scary and spooky but at the same time so gosh darn lovable!

 

I decided to take my love of Disney and my love for Halloween and create a Haunted Mansion doodle today. I hope it gets you in the Halloween spirit, makes your spine tingle and skin crawl, and makes you think back to the first time you rode through the Haunted Mansion, terrified only to have it become your absolute favorite.

 

Only 20 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

 

PS: Now a ghost will follow you home... Hahahahahahahahahah!!!!!!!!!!!



Nothing

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

What do you fear most in life?

 

Some might say heights or flying, spiders or the darkness. Me? I fear Nothing.

 

Do you remember the movie The Neverending Story? The Nothing was the terrifying monster gobbling up Fantasia, the world of fantasy and dreams. I think that was a mighty powerful message for a kids movie because to this day I am still affected by it and I still fear Nothing.

 

To me, the Nothing is just that--a void of happiness, dreams, plans, actions, even life itself. It's the desire to just survive through life instead of thrive. Nothing is very much real to me and I have to try and fight it every day. I fight it by reading, by laughing, by dreaming, and creating something new here every day.

 

These three figures are the Nothing that haunt my mind. They feed on the very thought of them (so stop thinking about Nothing!) and once they take control of you, it's hard to fight them off... but it's possible... it's always possible to fill Nothing with a very great Something.

 

That's what I'm trying to do with this blog... Fill the Nothing and fight it too.

 

Plus I just wanted to paint something super spooky today! I hope you dream of Nothing tonight...

 

25 days until Halloween!

 

a.r.w.

Drunken Dreams

drunken dreams have i

just to see your face again,

is that what it takes?

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Last night I had my first dream about Jed since I got married. Before then, I didn't have them too often but often enough to help me through the days, weeks, and months that passed after April 8th. I could tell the difference between regular dreams and visits where I know Jed sought me out to talk to me and spend time with me. But after I got married, not once did I see, hear, or feel Jed in any of my dreams.

 

Until last night.

 

It was short and he was there for only a moment. Piff the Magic Dragon (yes, from America's Got Talent) was doing a show for us and Jed was sitting in a chair beside me, his bald head covered in his blue knit cap I bought him (that's almost always how I see him). All I did was look over at him and ask him, "You really liked him, didn't you?" It was short and sweet and all I needed.

 

I started thinking why it was that I dreamt of Jed last night after all these weeks. What changed? What happened? I don't think it was a visit, just a regular dream where I got to see his face once more. After I thought about it, I came to the realization that I went to bed a bit tipsy last night (it was our teacher's day celebration at work and we had wine, laser tag, Georgian food, and more wine).

 

After Jed's death, I spent the next four months in a drunken haze. Not a day went by that I didn't drink alcohol at one point and many times I would polish off a bottle or two a night by myself. I'm not proud of that fact, but it helped to numb the pain a bit and at that point I didn't care what would be considered right or wrong... all I cared about was getting myself through the day. And in those drunken days, I dreamt of my brother so much more than my sober moments.

 

I'm not saying I'll return to my days of drinking heavily (at least not on a regular basis) but I do miss my dreams with my baby bro bro... so it was nice to have a quick chance to see his face again... even if it was just in my dreams...

 

a.r.w.

Brave

I'm not like other girls my age. I hate how that sounds... "Oh look at how different and unique I am! I'm a wallflower. An outcast. A freak." I guess you can add hypocrite to that list because no matter how much I hate it when people say it, it's true--I am different from other girls.

My parents named me Micah. Micah Meyers. Yes, that's right. Halloween is their favorite movie of all time. They're so obsessed with the occult and Halloween and anything supernatural, they planned on naming me after the crazed killer from that old movie. You can imagine their disappointment when I was born and I was very much not a boy.

I've spent my whole life surrounded by Halloween. Our house is always decorated with it (we actually have a Halloween tree--like a Christmas tree--that my mom keeps up and illuminated all year long). There are posters of horror movies instead of family photos and my dad's monster action figure collection lines the shelves of our house instead of books.

From a very early age I hated Halloween and tried as hard as I could to be normal... whatever that is supposed to be. I didn't go trick-or-treating. I wore bright colors. I hung out at the mall on October 31st and not the local cemetery. I tried to stay away from all those things that I was born into... but sooner or later, I knew it would catch up with me.

I'm 30 years old now. I still don't celebrate Halloween and I try to be as normal as I possibly can be.... but that's sometimes easier said than done.

"What are you subbing today?" Jason, my roommate/boyfriend asks me as he kisses me goodbye for the day.

I sigh and think quickly, "French, I think."

"Have a good day."

"You too."

I scurry down the winding stairs--we're a seven floor walk up--as I throw my big brown pleather bag over my shoulder.

"Are you Micah?" a voice lurches out at me making me stop in my tracks and scream.

I turn and glare at the culprit. It's a young man standing next to the garbage shoot, almost entirely hidden in the shadows.

"That depends on who's asking." I shift nervously as I begin to play with the strap of my bag.

"My name is Kyle Fagins," he introduces himself as he hands me a business card. I look down at the little black card in my hand. All I see is the white outline of a cartoony ghost and my gaze jumps back up to the man named Kyle.

I don't give him another chance to talk. Without another word, I begin marching down the stairs again, praying that he doesn't follow.

As I push the front door of our apartment complex open, I hear him grunt behind me, but I don't stop to turn and look. I hear him huff and puff as he jogs to catch up with me and with ease, he falls into step beside me.

"Is it true that you're possessed by a demon?"

I almost turn to glare at him, shocked by his question but instead, I just laugh maniacally. "You seem to know a heck of a lot about me for having just met me." I keep my eyes straight ahead on the sidewalk. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just go away.

"I know a lot more than just that," he declared, proud of himself for some reason. "I know you're not on your way to the high school to sub."

That's it.

I stop walking and just glare at him. He turns and just smiles.

"Okay," I growl through my teeth. I'm late for an appointment--I don't have time for this. "Either you're some sort of psychic or a stalker--neither of which I am okay with right now."

"No," he shakes his head and laughs at me. "You have quite a following in the paranormal community, Micah Meyers."

I just watch him. I'm suddenly regretting all of these appointments I've been running to lately, telling Jason it's subbing jobs. "And what does the paranormal community say?"

"They say you're the most powerful exorcist they know." His voice gets louder, I can tell he's excited. "You're actually permitted by the Vatican to do exorcisms on the possessed even though you're a woman and not a part of the Church."

I remain silent and let him continue.

"They say you can talk with the dead and sometimes you see ghosts. But the main thing they say is that you're possessed by a demon."

"What about it?" I cross my arms, trying to make some sort of barrier--protection--against this guy.

"Well, is it true?"

I sigh but realize that there's no reason in trying to deny it. He knows who I am and even I know the reputation I have  among ghost hunters, mediums, and exorcists. I begin my monologue that I've repeated so many times before, "It's a mutually beneficial relationship. He doesn't feel the need to possess me and I don't feel the need to exorcise him."

"Him?"

"Him."

"How did it happen?"

"I got struck by lightening last year."

He just stands there, seemingly in awe as I look down at my watch. The movement seems to bring him back to the present as he jumps back into place. "Listen, I have some buddies that I investigate with--"

"Don't we all?"

"And we were hoping you might help us with an investigation."

"Get in line," I laugh, humorlessly. "There's a thirteen month waiting list."

With that I finally find the chance to push past him and get back on my way to my scheduled appointment--an old abandoned orphanage, forty minutes outside the city.

"The entity called for you by name!" I hear him shout after me across the parking lot.

Something pricks in my mind, catching my attention as the voice in my ear mutters deeply, Well this could be interesting...

Whenever He makes himself known, I know it was for good reason--He doesn't wake himself up for nothing.

What say you, Micah? Time for some Halloween fun?

I sigh. It seems that's become my newest hobby. I could sense Kyle still standing behind me, waiting and watching for me to make a decision. I slowly turn to face him as his face lights up.

"It looks like He's on your side, Kyle," I call back out to him. "You're lucky..." I grumble. I hate being outnumbered. "So where is this little investigation of yours?"

"Oh, nowhere." He shrugs his shoulders innocently. "Just the most haunted insane asylum in the state." He smiles up at me as he holds his hand out. "Are you brave enough?"

He laughs in my ear and His insanity almost rubs off on me. Instead, I keep it bottled up with just a smile. "Brave?" I scoff. "I have a demon living inside me... a little ghost in a little asylum somewhere in the countryside certainly doesn't scare me."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

So I had this idea come to me (once again) while I was walking home from work last night. It was dark and cool, I had a skirt on along with a long obnoxious sweater and my man stompin' boots and I just felt like a BAMF about to hunt some ghosts. But as my mind thought about this character--a cooky dressed girl, stompin' her way through town, the story just got more and more detailed and soon I had Micah--a woman who was struck by lightening and now finds herself possessed by a not so malevolent demon.

I'm not sure if I'll continue this story into something bigger where she hunts ghosts with Kyle, exorcises demons with her partner in her head, and gets into a boatload of shenanigans. I'm feeling a lot of one shot stories with these guys.

So this is my first spooky October post. I hope you enjoyed it! Only 29 days until Halloween!

a.r.w.

Bewilder

"Hello?" A voice called out through the house, shattering the silence of the night. "Is there anyone here?"

Verona's eyes widened at the sound of the voice. It had been years since her parents left her all alone in this house and she had not seen or heard a soul since. The voices did not frighten her as they might have when she was a child--voices meant visitors and visitors meant that she would not spend the night alone again.

Leaping up from where she was laying on her bed, Verona ran down the hall and peered down into the darkness.

There were three young men, all dressed in black, wandering around the house, calling out... calling out to her.

"Verona, we know you're here!" the one standing in the middle--clearly the leader of the group--called out, his voice booming off the old walls.

"Who are you?" Verona asked curiously as she made her way down the stairs.

"Shh!" one of them hissed. "Did you hear something?"

"No," the other two shook their heads.

Verona let out a confused laugh as she paused in her march down the stairs.

She continued to watch the men; they seemed to be unaware of her presence.

"Hello?" she tried again.

"Okay, now I know I heard something!" the one who had heard her before shouted again as they pointed something her way. She had never seen such a contraption before.

"Verona," the leader turned towards the stairs again, his hands clasped together as if he was begging her to do something, "is that you on the stairs?"

"Yes," she grumbled; she was starting to get frustrated with these men.

"If you are here, show yourself to us."

"I'm right here!" she called out as she ran down the stairs, ignoring their outbursts of, "Did you hear that?" "It sounded like someone was walking down the stairs!"

They continued to watch the place where she had just been standing on the stairs, the black boxes and contraptions in their hands.

"What's going on?" she whispered to herself, suddenly feeling panic rise up in her chest.

She looked around her, searching for something that made sense when her eyes fell upon the mirror hanging in the entryway of her home. She gasped as her eyes locked on the face of the mirror and saw nothing of her own reflection.

Looking down at her lacy, long white dress and brown boots, she spun around to look at the three men in their black pants and shirts with sleeves that showed their arms and strange shoes on their feet that didn't resemble the black boots the other men in her town would wear.

"What--?" she let out a scream as her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed to the floor.

Behind her closed eyes she could hear the sound of the men panicking and shouting to one another. Glancing up, she spotted another one of the strange boxes in their hands lighting up as it pointed towards her. After a moment, she realized that one of the men--the one who had continued to hear her--stood before her. He didn't exactly look down at her, but she knew deep down that he knew she was there.

"Verona?" his voice was soft and smooth as he said her name. It wasn't the harsh commanding tone his friend had; he spoke to her almost as if he knew her. "I know you must be confused," he continued as he moved to kneel before her, his hands outstretched just slightly.

"It's cold around you, Jake!" one of the men behind him said. "A twenty degree difference."

The man named Jake lifted his hand just slightly as he called out to his friend, "I can feel it." Lowering his voice once more, he turned to look back at Verona. "I know you've been here, alone, for a very long time."

Tears began to blur her vision of the man in front of her. She was scared and beginning to panic. Not thinking of manners or propriety, she reached out and grabbed the man's hand, clinging to it.

"Jake, what's going on?"

But he ignored his friend's shouts of panic as he felt the cold, tingling sensation of someone--Verona--taking his hand.

"Help me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please..."

"She's scared," he said, his eyes lowered as his grip tightened on hers.

As he lifted his gaze back up, he nearly jumped as the sight of a young girl with flowing blonde hair held back with a ribbon flickered before him before she vanished behind the veil once more.

"Verona?" he whispered her name.

"Yes!" she shouted, for that seemed to be the only way to get their attention. "Yes it's me! Verona Macintosh!"

"Dude, the EMF is going crazy right now!"

She ignored the other two men and looked directly into Jake's eyes. Somehow, he seemed to find her gaze though he could no longer see her. He continued to watch her as she begged one last time, "What's going on?"

A silence continued on through the house and she began to believe that he had not heard her when suddenly his voice called out in the darkness, "We want to help you, Verona. You've been trapped here for over a hundred years--you died 115 years ago..." His voice trailed off as if he could sense her confusion and terror. "You're dead... and we want to help you move on."

Verona shivered, her eyes jumping from one young man to another. DEAD. The word had not crossed her mind as she had sat alone in her house for so many years waiting for someone--anyone--to come walking through her door.

It was almost too much to bear. Throwing her head back, Verona let out a scream of anguish, fear, and confusion. The lights flickered in the house, the mirror shattered, and the three men jumped back in fear.

After a moment when the silence returned to the house, the three men exchanged a glance before the leader muttered, "This is going to be a long night."

Verona rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. "You said it," she sighed as she looked back up at Jake... he was still looking down at her, a small smile on his face. Whether he heard her or not, she didn't know, but there was something about him that told her that he was not a liar--they were here to help her through this nightmare and she hoped that she would be able to make it through the night.

After a minute she paused and almost laughed at her thought. Of course she would survive the night. After all, she was a ghost.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

This is based off of a fun writing prompt called "a bewildering experience." To me, there is nothing more bewildering than the afterlife, ghosts, and the paranormal... especially if you are unknowingly caught in it!

 

I loved the idea of worlds colliding--modern day ghost hunters find a Victorian era ghost. I'm not sure if I'll continue this story... I am a sucker for ill-fated love stories so perhaps Jake and Verona will be able to see each other more throughout their night together and learn that love can cross barriers of time and existence.

 

October is only a few days away! That means two things:

 

1. Almost all of my posts will probably be spooky, Halloween related (what else is new?)

 

2. Work is about to get cuh-razy. They warned us that October is very busy and hectic where we'll be working most Sundays (that's one of my two days off and my other day off is usually taken up with teacher meetings... Boo....). It is my hope that I can still create and post something every day but if I miss a day here or there, please forgive me.

 

a.r.w.

Ghost

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

 

I suppose I should warn you now: I tend to like the macabre. All my life, I've been obsessed with Halloween, anything spooky, and the paranormal/supernatural. Despite my overly peppy and optimistic personality that I choose to show to other people, inside I have bats flying in my soul, black cats hopping from rib to rib, and a full moon hangs where my heart should be. Since the death of my brother, my obsession with the macabre and morbid is on overdrive. So if you get tired of the dark/spooky/weird posts, just look at it as me prepping you for Halloween (because it is NEVER too early!).

 

Once again, I found inspiration while I was walking through Novosibirsk yesterday. I was walking with a coworker and we were exchanging book titles that we were currently reading. Mine was less than impressive (Cress from The Lunar Chronicles), hers was a book called Ghost. My mind immediately jumped to the upcoming (or current, depending on who you are) Halloween season and I asked her if it was a horror story. She laughed and said no... it's a philosophical book about life and love. That made me pause and think about love and just how finite life is on this Earth.

 

Physically, my brother, Jed, is no longer here on Earth with us. He is dead. Some might even choose to say that he is "gone" (I politely disagree). But if anyone sat through elementary physics, then you would know the law of conservation of energy: energy can be neither created nor destroyed. However, energy can change forms, and energy can flow from one place to another.

 

My love for my brother was a mighty powerful thing. Even though he is no longer physically here with me, that doesn't mean my love for him disappeared. And that goes both ways: his love for me was just as powerful and that doesn't just disappear when he disappears from sight. His soul, his spirit, and his love continue on... just in a different form, flowing from one place to another.

 

Love is such an integral part of our very beings, I believe it has a hand in crafting our souls. When our hearts cease beating and we breathe our last breath, the energy within our souls is emitted into the universe, flowing around us... and that includes our love for one another.

 

I choose to believe that Jed is still around me in a form that my pathetic human eyes can't see, flowing around me, surrounding me with his love that can never and will never die.

 

And I just love ghosts, don't you? I see them as just so tragic and yet so intriguing. Some of them continue to live out parts of their lives over and over again (maybe that is Hell?), others follow their loved ones, waiting for them. They all have a story to tell... and just imagine those stories! Just think about sitting down with a ghost from 400 years ago. Not only can they tell you tales of the life they lived but then they can tell you everything they have witnessed in the time since... It's as if they are blessed with living a multitude of lives, experiencing different people, places, and phenomena (maybe that is Heaven?).

 

Anyway! This has gotten quite philosophical, hasn't it? Here is a little doodle of me as a ghost, keeping my love for my husband, my parents, my brother, my family and friends alive forever. Plus I love that font!

 

a.r.w.