Anyway, the noise was really creepy. My CSI-tainted mind started thinking up scary scenarios, and I managed to convince myself that it wasn't suitcases being dragged up and down the stairs...it was BODIES. My heart started racing, and I seriously considered climbing out my window and calling the police. I was convinced that Rose and Megan were being tortured. Thinking back, perhaps I should have grabbed something a bit more dangerous than my iPhone to protect me as I mustered up my bravery and slowly crept upstairs to the first floor (I doubt I could have even accessed the touch screen and dialed 911 in the heat of an attack). I fully expected to be met with blood and gore, but I had to be sure something was amiss before I called the police. Instead, all the lights were off and the doors were locked and everything seemed fine. I crept up to the second floor, and Rose and Megan's doors were both shut and the lights were out.
I felt very foolish at this point, but also VERY CONFUSED. What the devil had been making that noise?! I went back to my room and proceeded to turn on every light and sit in the middle of my bed, enveloped by my comforter for "safety." I almost almost would have welcomed the idea that centipedes had somehow been making all that noise. I stayed like that for about half an hour, until Alex called (he had just gotten out of a movie) and I relayed the whole story to him. He told me not to worry, maybe I had been in one of those states where I was sort of awake but sort of still dreaming at the same time. I told him that was impossible, I was FULLY awake when I heard that noise, and I didn't think it was Megan or Rose, because they were both asleep two floors above me. And then Alex said the words that I was too afraid to say myself: "Maybe you have a ghost."
Oh peril upon perils, I don't WANT to have a ghost in my apartment! The whole concept of ghosts freaks me out (unless they are named Nearly Headless Nick) and fascinates me at the same time, but only when I'm reading about the subject or hearing other people talk about their own experiences. The events of last night are too close for comfort. And seriously, the row of townhouses of which our apartment is a part is maybe only 10 or 20 years old. That's too young for ghosts, right? RIGHT?!??!?!??!?!This makes me think about another story, which I will relay now because quite frankly, it's a slow morning here at the office, and it totally pertains to the events of last night. A couple of months ago, I went with some friends to Williamsburg, VA. It was glorious and I absolutely reveled in the colonial wonderfulness of it all. Alex's dad happened to be there at the same time working on some new book or something (he's a professor) and one night after he took us to dinner, we stopped by the house of one of his friends. A house that just happens to be a colonial masterpiece on the main historical road in Williamsburg. So we were all standing there and the wife of this guy pulled my friend and I aside and started talking about the house itself and how it was haunted. I forget the name of the supposed ghost, but he built the house or something, and he has shown up (sans legs) in some of the photos they have taken over the years. This couple has acquired a portrait of the ghost's daughter, which bears an eerily striking resemblance to the lady who lives there now. And she said that once, when she was home sick in bed, she felt someone rubbing her back (and she knew her husband was at work). Their ghost bangs the kitchen cabinets when he's angry, but otherwise the only way he makes himself known is by walking up and down THE STAIRS in the middle of the night. Alex's dad has slept there before and totally backs up this cockamamie story.
So do ghosts like stairs? Does a ghost haunt MY STAIRS? Maybe I have an overactive imagination. It's totally possible. The noise last night could have been something in the backyard or on the roof, or maybe one of my roommates WAS causing a ruckus but had gone to bed by the time I gathered my strength and went upstairs. I do know, thank goodness, that Megan and Rose are in fact alive and well. I heard both of them leave for work this morning as I was getting ready.
Nevertheless, I am still a little shaken up by this whole experience. A few of my friends have already relayed their own ghost stories to me this morning, which gives me a funny I'm-ready-to-move-back-in-with-my-parents feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sort of don't want to go to sleep tonight, which is sad, because sleeping is one of my most favorite activities. Right up there with eating and playing with puppies. I really hope that I do not have to put Ghostbusters and/or exorcist on my list of people to call (right after centipede exterminator).
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