Do You Believe in Ghosts?
I do. Well, I sort of believe. And after I tell you my story, you might sort of believe in them, too. I used to work as a photojournalist. One of my jobs was to write articles about museums.
Now, I’m not much on war museums. But I’d received five writing assignments about one World War II war museum. So off I went with a press group, camera in hand, for a three-hour drive to the museum. I know this is going to sound weird, but when I stepped into the museum, I had the strangest mood-altering sense of sadness overcome me.
Everything in the museum tugged at my heart. The thought that ran through my mind was, “War is so ugly.”
Then I saw a blood-stained kimono on display. A placard placed next to it stated that an American soldier had removed it from a dead Japanese woman, who’d been a victim of the war. Tears filled my eyes. How sad for the woman. This war really was ugly.
Planning on writing this piece with lots of emotion, I snapped a picture. Oddly enough, though, my new hand-held flash didn’t work.
Frustrated, I tinkered with it, but it still wouldn’t work.
Unhappy, I walked away from the exhibit. But as I did, I heard a soft but annoying noise. “EEEEE . . . .”
I stopped and listened; it sounded close. Too close. I pulled my camera to my ear. Nothing. I pulled my flash to my ear, and realized the noise came from it.
I made sure the flash was turned off. It was. But the noise continued. I opened the battery compartment and was shocked to find several of my batteries had burst. This had never happened to me before. The batteries were the expensive ones, and I’d made sure to put in fresh ones before I’d left home.
Okay . . . this was strange, right? But I figured it was just faulty batteries. Out of time, I left without taking any pictures. I could write the articles but before I submitted them, I’d need photos.
My hubby loves war museums and was happy to go with me. The next month, several photo jobs later, we headed off to the museum.
From the moment I stepped inside, I got the same heavy feeling in my chest that I’d experienced before. I only wanted to get my images and leave. So I snapped a few shots, and then went to the kimono, to capture what I foresaw as my leading picture. The feeling brought goose bumps on my arms. I pulled the camera to my eye, pushed the button, and . . . nothing.
I turned the flash on and off. Nothing. My husband, immersed in reading the displays, stepped into this small room of the museum and stood next to me.
I turned to him. “I can’t believe it. My flash won’t work!”
“Probably need new batteries,” he muttered, keeping his eyes focused on the exhibits.
“They’re brand new,” I insisted, still standing by the kimono. I didn’t make the connection; it just didn’t occur to me that this could be anything to do with ghosts.
“So they’re bad.” He took my flash and removed the batteries and slipped them into his jeans’ pocket. “Let me finish looking and I’ll go get you new batteries from the car.”
We took a few steps away from the kimono and that’s when I heard it. “Eeeeeeee . . .”
“What’s that?” Hubby asked.
The truth hit me then and chills ran up my spine. This was exactly what had happened before when I’d tried to take the picture of kimono--the batteries had burst in the flash.
I pulled the flash to my ear. Nothing. Then I remembered hubby had put them in his pocket.
I looked at the front of my husband’s jeans, which were growing darker as the noise grew louder. “I think you’d better go empty your pockets. Because you’re getting battery acid all over you.”
He looked down and shot off to the bathroom. Four of the six batteries had burst inside his jeans pocket.
I looked at the kimono and felt it again—the ugliness of war. “Okay,” I whispered, “I won’t include pictures of your dress.”
And I didn’t.
I wrote the articles and kept my word; no pictures of the kimono appeared in the magazines. And oddly enough, I never had problems with my flash again.
So that’s the reason I sort of believe in ghosts. Do you believe? Sort of believe? Share your stories. I’d love to hear them.
Born at Midnight, the first book in the Shadow Falls Series is currently available from St. Martin's Griffin!
Synopsis: Don’t miss this spectacular new series that will steal your heart and haunt your dreams, Welcome to Shadow Falls camp, nestled deep in the woods of a town called Fallen…
One night Kylie Galen finds herself at the wrong party, with the wrong people, and it changes her life forever. Her mother ships her off to Shadow Falls—a camp for troubled teens, and within hours of arriving, it becomes painfully clear that her fellow campers aren’t just “troubled.” Here at Shadow Falls, vampires, werewolves, shapshifters, witches and fairies train side by side—learning to harness their powers, control their magic and live in the normal world.
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Even though Kylie feels deeply uncertain about everything, one thing is becoming painfully clear—Shadow Falls is exactly where she belongs…
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CC, thanks so much for sharing your chilling experience with us. I have to wonder if this happened to anyone else who tried to take a picture of the Kimono? Also a Thank You goes out to CC and to St. Martins Griffin for donating the copies of both books to giveaway.
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