My Personal Brush with the Supernatural
Shivers…here’s a true ghost story for you. I can say it’s true because it happened to me…more shivers.
Our small town library was located just across the hall from the post office. The post office being a wall of combination boxes and a door with a window cut into it. The library was a large, housing bookcases floor to ceiling. Books never got retired from our library. I checked out Ivanhoe once and found the name of my aunt as the last person to have had it. She’d died twenty years earlier.
When I was a senior in high school, I was elected as English Sterling Scholar and had to complete a binder of different forms and writing samples for a regional competition. Not having a computer at home, I spent three very late nights in the library. By myself.
The floors in the old building were all about a hundred years old and hardwood. They’d been covered with short-nap industrial carpeting, but walking on them was like playing a symphony with your feet. They’d squeak and squeal with every step, and the echo would bounce off the plastered walls in a cacophony or sound.
During those three late nights in the library, the hardwoods would sometimes creak…all the way down the hall, like someone was walking from the front door to the back. Then I’d hear what I thought was the clerk’s door closing. I got up the nerve, the first couple of times, to walk into the hall and look, but I never saw a soul. Eventually, I stopped checking. I just accepted the creaking floors and squeaking door as company while I plunked away at the computer.
Looking back, I can’t believe I managed to tough it out long enough to finish my binder. I can honestly say though, I was freaked out, I never felt the presence was threatening. It just was…and so was I…spending the night in the library.