“I had a strange feeling that someone or something was watching.”
I have always believed that sometimes spirits of the dead kind of “hang around” until they finish some sort of unfinished business. And I always hoped that I would experience it for myself because it seemed so exciting.
But my experience in a cabin my folks rented on a northern Wisconsin lake last summer exceeded my wildest expectations.
I had just graduated high school and was getting ready to go off to Boston College, so the trip was kind of a graduation present. Nothing was unusual when we brought our bags in from the car, and my sister and I playfully fought for who got the cushier bed.
We rented a small motorboat in the afternoon and found the lake to be reasonably quiet and quite beautiful. After a very nice dinner at a local restaurant, my sister and I climbed into our separate beds in the same room. Our folks were in the second bedroom, and we were all tired from our first day’s adventures.
When I turned off the lights, I had a strange feeling that someone or something was watching. I mentioned this to my sister who immediately freaked out and started peeking out the window to see if someone was there.
I explained that I wasn’t afraid of someone stalking us from the outside, but rather from the very room we were in. My sister, Marlene, just looked at me, turned over and said something derogatory about my intelligence and wondered why a fine school like Boston College would admit me.
Then the “fun” started.
I awoke when I felt a tug on my blanket. I was half asleep and mumbled to my sister that she should stop messing around. When Marlene didn’t answer, I realized she was asleep and I let out a small scream.
Marlene sat up and asked what was wrong. When I told her, she said that she also had felt something tug on her nightgown but thought it had merely been part of a dream.
Well, we didn’t get much sleep the rest of the night. In the morning, when we told our folks what happened, my mother turned white. She said she had experienced the same thing but was too embarrassed to tell our father.
We mentioned this to the manager of the cabin, and he said it had happened to him numerous times ever since he bought the cabin. He referred to the intruder as “The Playful Ghost.”