A collection of stories about growing up on an old haunted dairy farm.
|The entity that shared the cottage with me was usually pretty good at keeping to the “agreement.” The entity could do whatever it wanted while I was gone. When I was home – it had to leave me alone. We only had problems when I watched Ghost Hunters or Destination Truth at night.
One night, after a Ghost Hunters marathon, I crawled in bed, pulled up the covers, and lay staring at the ceiling. Poke. Poke. Poke. “Jeff! Stop poking my pillow, ya little idiot!”
I rolled over on my side. Poke. Poke. Poke. “Come on! I’m trying to get to sleep, Bub!” Poke. Poke. Poke. I rolled over onto my stomach and raised up to yell at him. He wasn’t there. I leaned over and looked under my bed. He wasn’t there either. Then I remembered I had closed my door and he was on the other side of it.
I pointed at the empty spot behind my pillow. The entity was probably standing elsewhere and laughing at me, but I didn’t care. “We had a deal! Back to the closet and leave my pillow alone!”
I rolled back over. Poke. Poke. Poke.
“TO THE CLOSET!!! OR YOU’RE OUT!!!”
Yeah, another moment when the entity was having fun, and I was a jerk. It was also another lesson learned about living with entities. So long as they’re not doing any damage – why not let them have fun.