| CHARLIE |
| When I was in the eighth grade my mother remarried and we moved to Hartford, Connecticut. We moved into my step-father's apartment on a temporary basis, as it was too small for us to remain in permanently. Almost from the start I started having strange experiences in that house. For openers, I could hear items moving around on the top of my dresser at night. Then I started finding personal items or common household items in places where I never would have put them. For instance, finding canned food in my sock drawer, or finding the mail in the bath tub. At first, everyone in the family made fun of me. After awhile, my step-father begain to suggest that I needed psychiatric help. It was right around this time that other people in the family began to have experiences too. My parent's bedroom was off of the living room and had a beautiful set of french doors that my mother kept closed. The rest of the apartment was railroad style, with one room after another, the last being a kitchen. One scenario that became quite common was that we'd all be in the living room watching T.V. We would hear a noise in the kitchen and when we'd investigate, we'd find an item from my parent's bedroom in the kitchen sink. Sometimes, the lamps on the coffee tables would flicker on and off. One day, I was sitting in the living room, doing my homework and listening to music. No one else was home. All of a sudden, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I had the creepiest feeling--like I was being watched. I kept ignoring the feeling, but not only did it persist, it grew stronger. Finally, I looked up from my homework and I could see into the kitchen from where I was sitting. My mother kept a cookie jar on the counter and I could see a boy, maybe 10-years old, with his hand in the cookie jar. He did not speak, but I "felt" like his name was Charlie. He was dressed in old fashioned clothes--knickers and a bow tie. He was terribly thin, and looked so very sad. Still, I was scared out of my wits. You've never seen anyone exit an apartment as quickly as I did that day. I did not even bother to get a coat, and it was a cold October day. I stayed outside until my brother came home. Later, when my mother saw how upset I was, she decided it was time to look into this matter and see what could be done. She called her friend, Beverly, who was a gifted psychic medium. We drove to New Haven right away to visit Bev and see what she would have to say. Beverly told us that a spirit named "Charles" was in the apartment. I hadn't told anyone that I thought the spirit's name was Charlie, so she had my attention right off the bat. She told us a little about him. He died in a tragic way and did not want to tell us about it. I requested that he not show himself to me because it scared me. He agreed, and for the remainder of the time that we lived in that apartment, no one ever saw him again. Although, we did know when he was around. |