"Umm, what lady, Rory?"
"You know - that lady who's downstairs. By the fireplace. She's called Felicia."
"What's she doing downstairs?"
"I'm not sure. I think she was looking for something."
Needless to say, there was no lady downstairs and Felicia is not a name that my son is familiar with. He was, however, absolutely insistent that she had been downstairs just before bedtime. I mean, he does come out with some absolute bollocks sometimes, but I can always tell really easily when he's making things up, so I've come to the conclusion that either some ghostly type called Felicia was poking around by my fireplace, or Rory really and truly thought that he'd seen what he told me.
I can't decide which. My house isn't the slightest bit scary or uncomfortable. But odd things do happen - things disappear and reappear in odd places etc. However, I can clearly remember regularly hallucinating a racing track complete with cars whizzing around it in our living room when I was 2 or 3 years old and being too scared to get off the sofa because I could see that the cars would run me over. who knows what goes on in the minds of little children? Maybe they really can see spirits. Maybe they just have such vivid imaginations that they can't control them or tell the difference between fantasy and reality.
In any case, it's made me think differently about something that happened a few nights before the Felicia incident: Rory was tossing and turning all night with a cold and making such a racket shuffling about that I couldn't sleep. Richard had fallen asleep on the sofa downstairs in front of the television. I was finally drifting off to sleep at about 3am when Rory called out for me. I woke up and decided that I was so tired I wasn't going to get up for him unless he called me again. When he called for the second time, I shifted to get out of bed, when I heard Richard coming up the stairs. I heard Rory saying that he wanted me and being told that it was too early to get up and he had to go to sleep, then Richard going back downstairs again. I mentioned it in the morning, but Rich was adamant that he'd never left the sofa all night. Gulp. Was it Felicia or one of her mates? Was my husband just sleep walking? We will never know.
I think I'm too much of a hardened cynic to really believe in ghosts, but I love a good ghost story all the same. So as this has neatly coincided with the run up to Halloween, I thought I'd run a Linky/Meme/whatever it's called for you to link up with your true creepy stories. It could be your child having a Paranormal Activity moment a la Rory, or something from your childhood - or anything really. Just add the link to your post below and make sure you include the link to this blog post in your post so everyone knows where to go to read some more scary tales: http://howtobeadomesticdisgrace.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/i-see-dead-people-join-in-with-my.html