Haunted Roller Coasters Keep Rolling, Themselves.

Dark wood and closed buildings at night are exactly what I need 98% of the time.

There is a closed antique mall across the street from the building from which I am writing. I want to slip inside, hold every article that calls to me, and listen to the exact stories that have been absorbed within them. I will fall, slightly, onto my knees and hope that Micki and her cousin-by-marriage, Ryan, from Friday the 13th: The Series walks in.

I don't scare easily, and yet, when a loud noise happens as part of a film in a movie theater, I am one of the only people around me who jumps.

(pause)

There are surprises that make one cover one's mouth; there are horrors that make one do the same. Perhaps it is a carnal response: a reflex that traps the soul within our body when, startled or horrified, it attempts to escape. Birthday parties and atrocities. Sneezes ('bless you' because, it was once believed a sneeze would expel your soul from your body) and eye-tearing fear.

I've been seeing ghosts lately. I'm not sure why. Today, in slight rain, I took my bike helmet off, ran my fingers through my hair to put it up (think: shampoo commercial) and felt someone watching me (think: being hunted). I decided to ignore it but then heard “Hi Kaden”. When I looked up, I saw it moving accidentally towards me in anorexic straw-hair and too much eyeliner trying hard to look "together", purse clutched, jaw defiant. “Hey- what's going on?” but it had already glided false-confidence past me. I remember when she claimed me as best friend. My hands remained at my sides (stories, people, and tornados that do not move me keep them anchored there).

I walked into a grocery store, bought hummus and a small loaf of bread, and sat on the sidewalk under an awning to enjoy my feast and watch the rain.

(pause)



(photo credit: Dark Daze tumblr)