The Day I Started Believing in Ghosts

I loved writing science-fiction novels, and some fantasy. That was my thing, since the fourth grade. Well the sci-fi part anyway. I didn’t actually start writing novels until freshman year. That was the only thing I was good at. Romance sucked. Horror never got along well with me, and supernatural was the worst. It really didn’t help that I didn’t believe in ghosts. I mean, that’s what a lot of supernatural stories are about, right?

My name is Dave Mannor, best selling author of Drain and all its sequels. I am loved by all my fans, and have signed many an autograph. I know it may sound like it, but I am not bragging. I really do tire of the constant “Are you Dave Mannor? Can I have your autograph?” I write for the pleasure, and to serve the public by giving them something to do other than watch eight consecutive hours of television or play video games until their eyes bleed out of their sockets.

Well, to get to my main point, I only have a certain amount of time to tell you this story, because I have a plane to catch, so to speak. I think it will be easy for me to tell this story with lots of good imagery and such, because I am a best-selling author. I hope I don’t bore you with any details.

Ever since that one ghost story my older brother Jerald told me when I was four years old, I was totally afraid of ghosts. At least until I was about twelve years old. I began getting into science fiction when I was nine though. The idea of a ghost was not logical. People die and they become a ghost? That doesn’t make any sense! When I stopped believing in ghosts, I lost faith in The Lord. It was as illogical as ghosts. I felt kind of empty inside whenever I thought of what happens to people after death, according to atheists, but it just didn’t make any sense any other way. When people die, they go in a hole and rot, and that’s it.

It was September 22nd and I was going to Smithville, Maine for a book signing. I loved book signings. They were always a thrill. Seeing the all of my fans’ faces was nice and rewarding.

My flight was supposed to leave at 5:15 in the afternoon, and the book signing was the next day. I was driving to the airport and was nearly there when the clouds began to thicken and gray began to fill all white patches. Thunder began rolling through the skies.

I hope this weather doesn’t interfere with my flight. I thought to myself looking ahead at the road. To the right of me, I saw a smaller plane taking off into the sky. It rose higher and higher, until finally, it disappeared behind the clouds. As I reached the airport, it began to sprinkle. I parked my car in the short-term parking area, and got out, and headed to a shuttle stop. I ended up waiting only a few minutes with an elderly woman. We exchanged a few kind words before the shuttle arrived. When it did, I moved out of the way, and let her board before me. She thanked me as she carried her two suitcases onto the vehicle. One was a decent-sized bag on wheels, making it much more convenient for one to haul their luggage. The other was a smaller bag; the strap was over her left shoulder. I assumed that was her carry-on. I boarded right after her, and then sat down and rested my head against the window waiting for the shuttle to get us to the front doors.

Halfway through the shuttle ride, the rain had begun to pick up a little bit. Rain ran down the windows like it was a race. A bigger drop crashed into a bunch of other littler drops and crossed the finish line well before the all the others. A few minutes after the race we arrived at the front of the main building. I got off after the old woman did, and followed her to the baggage drop-off. I paid the man wearing a blue suit three dollars per bag. I had one and a carry-on. I handed him a five and he gave me two back. I took my laptop bag inside the building and walked in the direction of security. There was a short line (luckily) leading into the terminal area that I needed to be in. The man at the entrance to that room looked at the tickets, and checked for any falsities. He handed me my ticket and I progressed. There was a long conveyor belt that went into a machine that x-rayed any items going through. I was instructed to remove my shoes and take my computer out of its bag and my phone and put them all in a little bin and slide it through the x-ray machine. All my previous works were being read slowly by electric eyes to ensure that there were no dangerous explosives planted within them. My computer rolled on metal rollers safely to the collection area. I grabbed it, and put it in the bag that followed. I dropped my phone in my right slacks pocket, and sat down to put my shoes on.

An hour had past since had I sat down to put my shoes on. I was sitting with my laptop of my lap. Well the bag was on my lap and the computer was on the bag. I wanted to keep my sperm count at a normal number.

It was raining buckets. I had thought for sure that my plane was going to be delayed. The woman at Gate 43 was standing at the desk. She picked up the intercom and spoke into it.

“Flight 197 is boarding. Flight 197!”

People began swarming around the woman with their flight tickets. The line was longer than that of an ice cream truck. I decided to wait a few minutes until the line thinned. After about five minutes the line did indeed prove to shorten my standing time. The woman at the gate took my ticket and sent it through the machine next to her. The stub popped out of the little slot in the back. She handed it to me and I continued on into the tunnel. The plane was filling up rather slow. When I stepped onto the actual plane, it was only filled up about halfway. I looked at my ticket for the seat number. There were some numbers, and then my name and below that, there was my seat number. It was section C and seat four. I sat down next to the window, which was giving a very good view of the storm that was going on. It was fogging up to the point where I was not able to see what was outside.

The flight attendants began giving the safety instructions. I watched their little video demonstrating how the seat cushions can be used as flotation devices, and how if necessary, oxygen masks will dispense from the compartment above each passenger. The pilot made himself known by giving a few instructions of his own, and describing the weather conditions, and how there will be some wind turbulences to expect. After he finished his speech, the plane began moving. It drove down the runway. As it gained speed, the noise that the wheels made grew louder and louder, and finally there was a fairly loud noise that meant the wheels had left the pavement. The plane lifted up into the air higher, and higher. If I had been able to see, I would see the buildings and cars below, shrinking.

I waited until I was allowed to bring out portable devices. When I was, I opened my notebook and began typing on a short story collection that I’ve been working on for about five months.

Jeremy was wandering down a dark road when all of a sudden; a bright light appeared above him. He looked up and inquired with himself, what it was. He lifted his hand that was now seemingly fifty pounds heavier, and had an eerie smile smacked on his face. His hand was slowly fading away.

Wow! He thought. I never thought this day would come! I am finally being abducted! Jeremy slowly rose up molecule by molecule into the bright white light…

I was really getting into that story. It just seemed to flow out of me like blood out of a deep gash in someone’s stomach. I didn’t want anything or anyone to staunch this blood!

They were playing The Shining on the little television screens that lined the aisle ceilings of the plane. As much as I enjoy that movie, I tried to focus on my writing. I actually met Stephen once. It was at a book signing around my current living situation in Los Angeles, California. He was there for vacation and he decided to drop by to meet me as a matter of fact. We hit it off very nicely. It’s interesting really. It turns out he’s as much of a fan of me as I of him.

Two of the four flight attendants were making their rounds across the plane, each starting at either end. They were serving various cold beverages, and light snacks for those who needed a little somethin-somethin to tide themselves over. They also were serving alcoholic drinks for those who needed the buzz. When one of the trolleys made it to me, I asked for a coke mixed with bourbon. That always did something nice for me. I loved the flavor of the drink. I handed her a five to pay for it.

“Keep the change, ma’am.” I smiled up at the blonde.

She thanked me for my business and moved on. I took a gulp and set it on the napkin on the pullout tray attached to the seat in front of me. A huge bump in the clouds almost knocked my drink into my lap. I caught it, luckily.

The pilot came on the intercom with urgent news. There was a funnel cloud not too far ahead of the plane. It was huge and it was in the process of forming a tornado. The whole area ahead was unavoidable, and they could crash.

“Everyone please stay as calm as possible. We will make it through this!” The pilot’s voice was trembling. Though, you could tell he was trying to hide it. The plane was bumping over turbulences. They were the speed bumps of the skies. I chugged the rest of my drink, while still furiously pounding the keys. I didn’t want to leave the Earth with any unfinished business, though I never had found another woman to prove my love to. So I guess I failed there.

The plane was about to become a big metal puppet. The winds would soon take control of the craft. When this happened, people were moving around. Bodies were thrown against each other like rag dolls. I remember the plane split like the Titanic, and people were sucked out. I hung on to my seat for dear life, watching as my laptop hit someone in their head and the screams emitting from their vocal cords, were halted. The machine broke to pieces on that woman’s head. It was the same woman who had served me my drink, and kept the extra two dollars and fifty cents. She got sucked off the demolished plane. My left hand slipped from the seat I was hanging from and I saw the impression my hand had made. I was really clutching that chair. Then, from just plain lack of energy in my right hand, I let go of the seat and went flying. I fell out of the plane, and hurdled toward the ground below.

My heart felt ready to jump out of my mouth. It was in and out of my chest, and I was short of breath. Sweat glands were producing human coolant. Literally half a second after it bled out, it flew off into the sky above me, on account of how fast I was falling to my impending doom. I was very close to meeting the hard ground. Then I did.

I was a mass of bloody, mangled flesh and bone. All the blood in my body left me at once it seemed.

The plane landed as I woke up five seconds after I hit the ground. I felt my face and my brain was not oozing out of my ears, and there were no huge facial fractures. My arms and legs were not shattered. All of my ribs were positioned safely out of my lungs and heart.

I was fine

It was only a dream! Thank God! I sighed deeply, and I was very grateful for my safe arrival. The pilot instructed the passengers to unbuckle their seat belts, and exit the plane in a safe manner. I safely tucked my computer into its convenient carrying case, and put the strap over my left shoulder and waited for people in my way to pass, then entered the aisle myself. I walked slowly so as to not crash into the person on account of a misplaced foot. The pilot and the flight attendants thanked me as I left the plane.

My next and final flight was leaving at about 10:00 pm. I was so happy that night; I got the pleasure to be able to arrive to the hotel at 2:30 in the morning. I was so tired the next morning.

Wait. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves!

While I was at the Kansas City, Missouri airport, I bought myself a meal, because I hadn’t eaten anything since the airlines’ wonderfully dry and tasteless peanuts. I ordered my favorite, a huge ketchup-dripping, mustard-slathered, mayonnaise-covered cheeseburger. It was steaming and dripping its delectableness all over as I devoured it in a matter of minutes. The fries that came with the meal were rather stale, and just plain disgusting! I picked up my cup of Pepsi and took a drink and then set it back down, and impatiently waited for my plane to Maine to begin boarding.

When said action began, I stood up and made my way to the door, and then sat down in my appropriate seat. The flight was about an hour longer than the one before. Like I said, I ended up arriving in Smithville at about 2:30 in the morning. I yawned all the way the way to the baggage carrousel. I waited about thirty minutes there for my bag. It was one of the last ones to come out. I grabbed it and went on my way. The rental car that I arranged for was waiting for me outside of the airport building. I drove it to the hotel I would be staying at. I walked inside to the front desk.

“Good morning Sir. Do you have a reservation?” The man asked.

“Yes…” I yawned.

“Okay, just a moment.” He typed a few things into the computer, and then looked back up at me. “What is your name Sir?”

“Dave Mannor.”

The man looked in his computer for my name. He pointed a finger at the sky. “Aha!” He smiled, and then his smile quickly faded. “Umm Sir, there has been a problem with your room. This room is never to be handed out to people, because it is haunted!”

“Oh, that’s silly. I don’t believe in ghosts! Just give me the room. I’m very tired!”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yes. I’m positive!”

“Okay…” The man shuddered. He went to a metal cabinet for the key he needed. He opened the doors, and grabbed a key more to the bottom and handed it over to me. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“Pfsh!” I walked to the elevator to the left of the front desk and pressed the upward-pointing arrow, which beeped. A few seconds past, and then, the doors sprang open revealing a couple kissing intensely.

“Ahem!” I cleared my throat only loud enough to get their attention. They both looked at me like a deer caught in headlights, and then they walked out and around me to a different part of the hotel. I stepped inside and pressed the number three. It illuminated. The metal box rose up higher and higher and then stopped and the doors opened. A few people were standing outside. I walked around them and walked to my room. The door was all the way at the end of the hall. The red paint on the door was faded and peeling. It was as if no one had done a single paintjob in its existence. I inserted the key into the lock and turned. It made a clicking sound and I opened the door. Average hotel room furniture inhabited the space. A queen bed with filthy bedspreads that are never washed, rock-hard pillows that break your neck the second you rest your head on them. A small nightstand, and a dresser with two drawers and that is about it. In the bathroom, there are a few mini soaps and one mini shampoo, and an icebox with a few small plastic cups inside.

I bent over in front of my dresser and began moving my clothes into the drawers provided. After I was finished, I jumped in the shower. I almost drowned though. I was so tired. I didn’t get to bed until 3:30. Despite the not so comfortable environment, I fell right asleep.

I woke up the next morning and got dressed after a nice warm shower. I suited up all nice and presentable, and headed out the door. I wanted some breakfast, so I decided to get a bite to eat at Denny’s. I drove in my little rental a few minutes to the nearest family restaurant for a 5-stack and some crispy pig strips. I parked in a parking space in the front of the building in the front row. I stepped out and was shouted to by a passerby.

“Mr. Mannor!” The woman shouted. She took out her ear buds and turned her iPod off. “Is that really you?”

I nodded. And slowly made my way to the glass doors hoping maybe she would just go, but she didn’t. Don’t get me wrong. The attention is nice, but sometimes it’s a little annoying.

“Can I have your autograph?”

“Sorry, I don’t give personal autographs, but if you come to the Smithville Library today at noon, I can sign a book or two that you have.”

She nodded, smiled and then continued off to wherever she happened to be going. I opened the glass door and entered the restaurant. There was elevator music playing in the background, but there wasn’t an elevator in sight! The hostess near the front was standing guard, with a smile on her plump face.

“Would you like the bar, Mr. Mannor?

“Yes that would be nice. Thank you!”

The woman walked him over to the bar area. It wasn’t an alcoholic beverage serving bar, just a flat, long red piece of polished wood, with some stools to sit on, and kitchen behind it. I sat down on a stool in front of a waitress who was polishing some silverware. She looked up and flashed me a smile.

“What can I start you off to drink Hun?”

“I’ll have a cup of coffee.”

“Okay,” She replied as she filled up a water glass for me. She grabbed mug from below and filled it up with some steaming black liquid, and set it down in front of me. I picked it up and took a sip. Mmmm… I thought to myself.

I asked for the paper and began reading. I turned to the obituary section after I was finished reading all the other interesting stories and looked at al the people that have died in the past few days. I always liked to look at the obits, because I find them very interesting. It’s really sad though to see a child or infant that has died.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asked.

“I’ll have a short stack and two pieces of bacon, two eggs, and two sausage links please.” I closed the menu and handed it to the woman. She took it and headed back to the back to post the order for the chefs.

A big red minivan pulled into the parking lot and a huge family of seven unloaded, and headed to the front doors. There was a set of twins, a little girl who appeared to be about five or six, and two teenagers.

The twins were both about ten and were dressed the same; there hair was styled the same. Ponytails tied with green ribbons. Little blue jean skirt, with a red shirt that had sparkly letters spelling the word Bratz on it.

The little girl was wearing her hair short and a very dark shade of brown. She sported a pair of shorts with blue shirt with Elmo on it.

The girl teen was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans with rips and tears all down the legs. This particular fashion was about seventy dollars a pair, and for guys as well as girls. A complete waste of money if you think about it. She wore a black shirt with ACDC on the front. Her long brown hair shined in the sunlight and flowed down past her shoulders.

The teenage guy was tall, probably 6’2”. He wore an athletic fit Abercrobie and Fitch tee shirt that tightly wrapped around his well-sculpted arms and upper body. He had a long baggy pair of faded jeans on and his footwear of choice was a raggedy pair of flip-flops. He and his sister looked a little disgruntled, probably because they had to be out on a Saturday morning with their family instead of out goofing off as teenagers would. They were seated at a booth near the back of the restaurant.

“Would you like some more coffee, Sir?” The waitress asked.

“Yes, please.”

She picked up the coffee pot and began pouring more into my cup. I picked it up and a pain shot through my arm and up into my head. I dropped the cup on the floor. It shattered. Coffee splashed all over the floor, and some of the occupants of Denny’s looked my way. “Oww!” I cried.

“I am so sorry, Sir!”

“No, no! It was me!” I replied. “I had a horrible pain in my arm!”

“Well, here. Let me fetch you a new cup and some more coffee.” She ducked down for a new mug. She came back up and filled it up and handed it to me.

“Thank you.” I reached down with some napkins and began cleaning up the mess.

“No, no. Let me do that!” She insisted.

I came back up to my paper, and continued reading. After I got my breakfast and consumed about half of it, I started to get a headache. It started off rather miniscule, but grew as the day progressed. I took the last bite of the last piece of bacon on my plate and then picked up my napkin and dabbed the corners of my mouth. I waved to the waitress.

“May I have the check?”

“Yes.” She rang me up and handed me the little piece of paper for me to sign and then I handed it back to her.

I stood up and began walking out of the restaurant. The family near the back was getting loud as I exited the restaurant. I whistled as I walked down the street, that sunny day. Whistling was a rather common ability in kids and adults. I learned to whistle when I was about six years old. I remember my older brother taught me.

Smithville was a rather small town. It reminded me a lot of the town in Kansas that I spent a good amount of my childhood in. The only difference between Smithville and Elberton, is that Smithville is much more mountainous. The town is pretty much surrounded by mountains on all sides, and there were only two roads leading out of the place. There were four parallel streets in the middle part of town. On either side of each street, is a row of stores and restaurants. What bordered the square of roads and stores was the bookstore, the Denny’s, the three schools, the hotel, and the church. Surrounding all that, were a bunch of houses. One road led to the airport, and roads to other places. The other led to more housing in Smithville.

That was the town. It was a peaceful little town. Very quaint. I wouldn’t be able to stay here for very long. It’s too small.

As I was making my way from store to store, my headache worsened. I visited a few cool little shops, all gift shops. I didn’t buy anything though. It was all a waste of money. It really is. I glanced at my watch. Almost time for me to be at the bookstore. About thirty minutes, so I decided to go ahead and walk to my car. I drove a few miles to the bookstore. It was a small little place. Very nice and kid-friendly. It was nearing my field of vision when all of a sudden I had a terrible pain run through my left leg. My leg was burning up; it felt as if it was spontaneously combusting, even though I don’t actually know what that even feels like. I struggled to keep driving properly while enduring that immense pain. I did overcome it, and made it to the bookstore parking lot in one piece.

I stepped out of the car and limped to the bookstore entrance. The lot was full to the brim with cars. People were ready for me. They were already lining up to get their books signed. There were two photographers, ready to shoot me while I sign books. Flashes filled the small space around me. I signed several copies of most of my books, in the just the first thirty minutes. I expected to mark up another couple hundred in the next hour and half I would still be at the store.

An hour later, I was in the bathroom puking into a toilet about eight feet away from the spot where I couldn’t hold it in and it came out on the floor. I was dry heaving after about five minutes. Plain acid was shooting from my mouth. It was getting to the point that my lips were feeling sore. It was beginning to eat away at my flesh. I could only imagine what was happening to the enamel on my teeth.

I had no idea what could have caused this misfortune. Could it have been the food? I suppose so. Denny’s isn’t perfect. Lots of people I know have gotten food poisoning from Denny’s food. This seemed a little ridiculous though. A few minutes passed, and I finally ceased. I walked over to the sink and washed my face in it. The cool water rushing over my sore lips felt like Heaven.

I lifted my head up and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was hanging in my face. It was light brown and medium cut. Not too long, not too short. I put a little gel in it this morning to keep it kemp. My cream colored shirt was a bit wrinkled on account of my constant scrunching it together while bent over the filthy stall. I smoothed it out with the flat of my hand as best I could. I checked that same shirt and my pants for any puke drops. None. Good. I thought. I don’t want to smell like freaking barf!

I stepped over the pile of room temperature puke on my way back out into the bookstore. I weaved in and out of aisles and made my way to my seat. People were still in the line that were there before. They were beginning to hate me because of the delay, but what do I care what anyone thinks. If they like me cool. If they like my books, cool. If they don’t like me or my books, then that’s just fine too.
“Are you okay?” An older woman asked with a scrunched face. It was twisted in a motherly worry look. “You look rather pale.”
“Yes, I am feeling just great!” I responded with a smile on my face.
“Well, anyway. Could you sign this for my grandson? He’s a big fan of your work!”
“Sure I could! I’m glad he enjoys my work, cause I enjoy writing it!”
“Well that’s a good thing. You’ve got to enjoy what you do, or you could go crazy!”
I chuckled as I signed Drain. “Yes you do!” I said as I handed the woman the book, now worth at least ten times more than it did, because of some author’s ink.

People flowed through the store all throughout the day. I only had thirty more minutes left when I had the urge to pee. I hadn’t been to the restroom all day, and my time had come. I excused myself from the dwindling amount of fans and headed to the shit and piss room. There were several people in there, and the urinals were all occupied at the moment, so I stood behind some little kid and waited for him to finish. I avoided staring down at the floor in front of me, because the boy had his pants pulled all the way down in a pile around his ankles, revealing his bum cheeks. He pulled his pants up and zipped, then pressed the button. As he passed, he looked up at me with a blank little kid stare that said: Who the hell are you? The lemonade churned around the bowl briefly, and then was sucked into the hole in the bottom. I stepped up to the plate and drained the hose.

In the process, I began to feel a slight pain in my left arm. I finished up and then went to the sink to wash my dirty dirty hands. The pain grew and grew whilst washing, and then I endured a most horrendous pain in my chest. I groaned and moaned and collapsed to the tiled floor. Several people swarmed around my body. I could see merely faces floating above my body. They began to blur as my vision was leaving me. They grew blurrier and blurrier, and then finally, I passed out. I was rushed off to the hospital. Someone had called 911. I had no idea who, but what does that matter?

The paramedics put me on a stretcher as I was being plucked from the ambulance, and rushed me just inside the hospital into the lobby, where three doctors and two nurses rushed me off to the emergency room.
“Cause of heart attack?” Nurse Williams asked quickly as she prepared the scissors to cut my clothes off once we arrived in the room.
“Not sure.” Doctor Jennings. He’s not that old, probably stress.”
“He’d have to e pretty stressed to have a heart attack at this age!” Doctor Albright chimed in.”
They pushed me through a set of double doors and then stopped when we arrived at the proper place. They moved me to the metal counter. Williams took the scissors carefully over my flesh, cutting my cream shirt away, revealing my slightly tanned upper body. Since I had passed out, they had to begin cardiopulmonary resuscitation. I was in cardiac arrest, and I was in dire need of rescue breathing and chest compressions. They began.
Although I was unconscious, I began dreaming. I was dreaming what was happening around me. There were three doctors standing around me, and then they parted for a fourth. A figure dressed in black emerged from the darkness and into the bright light. I could tell now, that this was no doctor. It looked to be the Grim Reaper. The figure was hooded just like said being. His face came into the light as a drop of blood from his gushing face fell onto my bare chest. I was not able to move, because the other doctors held me down, and I couldn’t scream either. The hooded one reached behind his back and pulled a short sword that seemed to be sticking into his flesh, and raised above his head, like he was readying himself to finish off his nemesis, if I were his enemy. He plunged the sword into my heart, and I woke up. Doctor Jennings, Doctor Albright, and the other doctor were holding my arms and body, as I was being transfixed. I was somehow awake to see this act. My eyes overflowed with horror as I realized it wasn’t a dream.

The room began to fade. However, the pain did not. I awoke in my hotel room in Smithville, Maine. I breathed heavily. Sweat was pouring.
The room filled with light suddenly. Blinding light. A figure appeared in the room. It was what I thought never existed. I’m not going to bother mentioning what. You already know. The hooded apparition advanced and again, plunged his sword into my chest and I sat there with my head against the brick pillow. Blood stained the already dirty sheets as it flowed. I died slowly, as The Horrible Evil gloated. He made a soft, dry raspy laugh. When I was genuinely dead, he removed the sword and faded away with the light.

It wouldn’t be until the following morning when the maids that clean the hotel rooms daily would find my corpse. By then, my ghost would have gone off to be judged. Am I going to Heaven or Hell?
If you saw me now, you would think this whole story was just a story that I wrote. I am a writer; that’s a legitimate deduction. I may look like I’m human, but I am most certainly a dead man. A ghost. A spirit.

Only about thirty seconds now. Then I’m off, to see where I go next.
Just a little piece of advice for all of you non-believers out there: When you are told a room is haunted, then you should ask for a different room. Don’t find out the hard way.

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