I Had a Nightmare!

I seldom have nightmares, but I had one last night.

In this nightmare I was shutting off lights and checking doors prior to going to bed. I turned off the living room light, then walked through the dark dining room and then into the kitchen where there was just a nightlight burning across the length of the room beside the refrigerator. This was my totally familiar present day house looking exactly as it looks every day and it all seemed so very real.

I always check to make sure the kitchen door is locked before I go to bed. I looked at the knob and saw that it was locked, but then noticed that the door was not shut tightly, there was a little gap. I murmured, "That's strange," then approached the door and pushed it closed. Almost immediately I got a weird feeling, as if something was on the other side of the door on the deck, and I began to back away from the door.

In horror, I saw smoky dark "arms" come through the closed door, reaching toward me. Shocked and scared, I backed away from them. My mind was struggling to comprehend what was going on. I'd never seen anything like this before. I was backed into the corner, the microwave cart to my left, the farm table to my right, the cat food bowls on the floor behind me. I had nowhere to go! The arms kept getting longer, kept reaching for me. I could feel the tendril like fingers brushing against me.

My mind was reeling. I was telling myself in my head- you have to say something! You have to cry out! You have to try to wake up John (who was already in bed at the far end of the house.) I had to struggle to get my voice out. First I said, "No..." in a very weak, terrified, breathless voice, so unlike me. And then I managed to get the words, "Help me," sort of rasped past the constriction in my throat, but again they weren't very loud as I could barely speak.

However, it was loud enough to wake me up, and I was still saying, "Help me..." and "No," as I laid there in bed trying to figure out what had just happened, the dream still vivid in my mind, but now I was struggling to understand how I could be in bed and not in the kitchen. I reached over and touched John's arm and asked, "Did I wake you up?" but he has a CPAP, and we had a fan on which is on the dresser on his other side and he hadn't woken up.

I just lay there sort of stunned by the fact that I'd just had a nightmare. I hadn't spoken loud enough to alarm the cats who were asleep in the living room.

This morning I was still a little rattled by the nightmare. And tonight, when I found the kitchen door unlocked at 10:13PM I was actually nervous about locking it and made sure I had a clear path away from the door so I didn't get trapped in a corner again!

So- what do I think caused the nightmare? The last nightmare I had was a few years ago when I used a muscle relaxer for low back pain and muscle spasms from sacroiliitis. (I dreamt I was a tiny entity huddled in one corner of my own coffin, and a voice entity was speaking to me from the far opposite corner...and it terrified me because A.) I am severely claustrophobic and I knew my coffin was buried with me alive in it underground, and B.) I knew I was trapped in that coffin with whatever it was for all eternity!)

Anyway, I had a right shoulder issue for a few days with pain and muscle spasms down to my right elbow so when it got really bad I took a different muscle relaxer I'd been prescribed recently, one I've used before without any problem....and I had a nightmare.

Well-the smoky dark arms reaching through the closed door will most likely find a way into a future ghost story, so there's that to say for medication side effects anyway!

This, by the way, I solemnly swear, is an entirely true account. Although I could make up stuff like this easily enough, I certainly didn't make this up! Real and true, this happened last night...and I am avoiding the kitchen for the rest of tonight because of it!

New Ghost Story- Purple Girl

copyright by Susan Buffum, July 21,2020

Purple Girl by Susan Buffum

Cody was lying on the sand on the little stretch of beach near his lakeside cottage watching the night sky for comets. It was August and he’d heard that there would be comets visible during the month. He’d seen only one comet in his relatively short existence which spanned all of twenty-five years. He was renting the cottage from his Uncle Dave who had won it in a nasty divorce from his wife, Cody’s former Aunt Paula. The only reason Paula hadn’t wanted it was because it was small. It only had two bedrooms, a galley kitchen, a small bathroom, and a living room/dining area combo. There was a screened in porch at the front, but the path to the lake was rather overgrown which blocked the view. The house was at the less affluent end of the lake, the camps and cottages more crowded together here. It was also much noisier. There was more traffic on the narrow lanes, but Cody didn’t mind any of that. He’d needed a place to live. The rent Uncle Dave charged him was quite fair. He liked the lake. It wasn’t that far of a drive to the distribution center where he worked as a delivery driver. This summer he was taking another online course as he slowly worked his way toward a business degree with the hopes of one day opening his own small business.

“Aww, screw this,” he muttered as he sat up, giving up on the heavens for the night. There were too many clouds drifting around up there obscuring the stars. “It’s just not a good night for star gazing or trying to spot a comet.” Getting to his feet, he brushed sand off his olive-colored cargo shorts, jammed his feet back into flip-flops, grabbed his t-shirt that he’d bunched up and placed under his head, shaking it out, but not putting it back on. Giving a cursory glance across the water he saw lights in many of the cottage windows. They seemed to twinkle. A string of colored lights marked a private dock. He could make out the dark hulks of canoes and sailboats here and there bobbing gently in the water. There was music coming from further up the opposite shore, the distant sound of voices, the occasional shriek of a female, most likely being threatened with a dunking in the lake, men laughing, the faint clinking of beer bottles. “There’s always a party somewhere on the lake,” he said aloud as he trudged up the path, swatting at random branches. “I really need to cut these back,” he thought.

The yard was nothing much, just patchy grass. There was a gravel parking area near the side of the house. The rest of the driveway was rutted, compacted dirt. He could smell smoke. Someone was burning some kind of sweet-scented wood. Through the brush running alongside the lane he could make out the flickering, dancing, orange flames of a fire pit. That would be Nick and Ella. They always had that fire pit going. Shaking his head, he grabbed the handle of the screen door, tugging it open, stepping up onto the porch. A ceiling light illuminated the area in a yellow glow. He swatted a mosquito that had followed him inside. “I don’t need you biting me, you little blood sucking vampire.” He flicked its mangled body onto the wood floor.

As he reached for the door knob to let himself into the house he heard a female voice say, “Help me!” It hadn’t been very loud, but it had been loud enough to stop his hand and make him turn his head. A slight frown creased his brow. Had the voice come from across the lake, maybe from that party? Or had it come from the lane? Or from one of the cottages to either side of him?

Turning, he walked back to the screen door and peered outside. It was rather dark in the yard. The yellow light didn’t do much to illuminate beyond the immediate porch. He could make out the brush blocking his view of the lake, the narrow, lighter strip of sand that marked the path through the brush. “Hello?” he said in his normal voice, not really wanting to get involved in anybody else’s problems, but curious to know if someone needed his help. Maybe a visitor had taken a walk or a swim and gotten lost in the dark? Or perhaps a car had broken down on the main road and the stranded motorist was wandering down the lane searching for someone who might be able to help. “Hello?” he repeated.

“Help me….please.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked again toward the path. As he watched, a form seemed to materialize out of the darkness. Judging from the size and shape of it he realized it was a female. “What’s wrong? Are you lost?” He watched her as she stepped from the path onto the poor excuse for a lawn that he had. She was barefoot, dressed in dark-colored shorts and a light-colored t-shirt. Her clothes seemed wet. They were clinging to her. “Did you fall in the lake?”

She hesitated, looking around for a moment as if trying to get her bearings, and then stumbled a few steps closer. “Off a boat,” she said.

“You’d better come in,” he replied, pushing the screen door open for her. “Come on. It’s all right. I’ll help you.”

“That’s kind of you,” she said, slowly making her way to the two wooden steps and climbing them. “I’m hurt.”

Cody had noticed the cuts on her legs, the bruises and abrasions on her wrists. There were marks on her face as well. Her dark hair was damp and tangled. She stared at him through large brown eyes. “Okay, then, let’s see what I can do for you. Is there someone we can call for you?”

“My father…”she murmured as she slipped past him onto the porch.

“Sure. You can use my phone. Come on in. The lighting’s better inside.” He moved ahead of her to open the door, letting her precede him into the dining area. The living room area was to the left. “Have a seat here.” He pulled out one of the dinette chairs, turning it sideways. Obediently, she sat down, bending forward to look at her legs which she had stretched out before her. “Those cuts look nasty, but they aren’t bleeding too much. Let me go get a few things. You stay put.” He walked to the kitchen counter, grabbed his cellphone off the charger, and brought it to her. “Here, call your father. Let him know you’re all right.”

“Where am I?” she asked as she studied the phone in her hand, a frown on her face.

“Pine Cove Lane, number seventeen.” She glanced up at him, shaking her head. “Where do you live? At the other end of the lake?” The quality of her clothing seemed nicer than what people at this end of the lake wore.

“No, I’m from Windsor,” she replied.

“Really? What are you doing way out here at the lake? Were you partying with friends out on a boat and you fell overboard?  How could they not notice?”

She shook her head. “No, I was at a cottage first.” Her eyes returned to the screen of the phone. It seemed to mesmerize her. Her face was bluish-white in its glow.

“Let me get the first aid kit. You call your old man and tell him where to come get you. I’ll get you patched up while we wait for him to get here. I can give you a dry shirt to put on, or a blanket to wrap up in. You have goosebumps. The lake is always cold. How long were you in the water for?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. A long time, I guess.”

He went to the bathroom where there was a wicker tower with five shelves for towels and toiletries. Crouching down, he dug out the first aid kit from the back of the bottom shelf, giving it a quick dusting off with the hand towel before carrying it back to the dinette table. He set it down and then went into the living room to grab the buffalo plaid throw from the back of the couch. He shook it out as he crossed the room. She looked up again as he wrapped it around her shoulders. “That should help warm you up.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you call your father?” She shook her head. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how.”

He looked at the phone in her hand. The screen was dark. “Here, give it to me.” He took it from her. It felt cold just from being in her hand. “Look, bundle up in that blanket. You’re chilled to the bone,” he instructed as he swiped the screen to wake the phone. “What the hell,” he murmured, swiping it a couple more times. “Did you turn it off by mistake?” He checked to make sure it was on. It did not respond. “How can it be dead?” He’d just taken it off the charger. “That’s weird.” Walking back to the counter, he put it back on the charger. It began charging anew. It was at 3 percent. “The damn thing is as dead as a doornail!” She looked up at him, her eyes wide at his raised voice. She looked frightened. “Hey, sorry. I just charged this damn phone. I don’t understand how it can be so completely dead.”

“Do you have another phone?’ she asked, sounding anxious.

“No. This one will be okay in a little bit. Let me get your legs cleaned up and bandaged. It looks like the boat’s motor blades got you. Is that what happened? Did you fall off the back of the boat and get hit by the blades?” These were clean lacerations, not the sort of injuries she would have gotten banging into underwater rocks.

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“You told me you fell off a boat.”

“I went over the side.”

“Did you hit your head, too?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must have swum here. You came up from the beach.” She shrugged, shaking her head.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter. You’re safe now, so just relax and rest while I clean up the cuts and bandage them for you, and then we’ll worry about how to contact your father.” She remained huddled in the blanket in the chair as he went to wet some paper towels in hot water. Coming back, he knelt on the floor and washed the blood off her legs. He noticed that she had chipped, plum-colored polish on her toenails. “You like the color purple?” Her shorts were the same color as her toenails.

“It’s my favorite color.”

“I like blue.” He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. She really did have big, brown eyes. She was a pretty girl. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“You parents must be worried sick about you. It’s late.”

She wasn’t very talkative, but he figured that she was cold and tired after her fall into the lake and having to swim to shore. He taped the roller gauze around her slim lower legs and then asked to see her wrists. They’d looked abraded to him, raw, but she shook her head. He asked if she wanted something to eat or drink. Again she shook her head. He stood up, replacing the unused supplies in the kit and snapping the cover closed. “All done. I’ll put this away and then we’ll try the phone again.” He stopped at the counter. “What’s your phone number?” She gave it to him and he wrote it on the notepad near the phone charger. “Look, go lie down on the couch. Try to rest and warm up. I’ll call your father and give him directions so he can come and take you home.”

He went back into the bathroom to replace the first aid kit and wash his hands. When he returned to the kitchenette he glanced toward the living room. A corner of the buffalo plaid throw was lying across the arm of the couch. He couldn’t see her, but figured she was lying down as she’d been told to do.

Grabbing his phone, he glanced at the number on the pad and keyed it in. His eyes fell on the clock. It was quarter of eleven already, late to be calling anyone, but he figured her father would be happy to know she was all right and that she was safe. “Who is this?” asked a gruff, almost angry voice. Cody thought he’d woken the man up. Maybe he wasn’t even aware that his teenaged daughter hadn’t come home. Maybe she was with friends at the lake and he’d gone to bed assuming she was safe enough.

“My name is Cody Taylor. I live on Pine Cove Lane out at the lake. I have your daughter…”

“Is this your idea of a sick joke?” barked the man. “How dare you call me like this, wake me up, and try to play this cruel and thoughtless charade on me!”

“I’m sorry…I don’t know her name, but she’s resting on the couch. You should come and get her. She fell off a boat and she got hurt.”

“Young man, I am writing down your phone number and I am calling the police!”

“But, sir… she’s here. I’m not fooling you.”

“My daughter is dead! She was kidnapped in nineteen eighty-one by disgruntled employees and held at a cottage at that damn lake. They did horrible things to her, and then they rowed her out into the middle of the lake and dumped her in. Her hands were bound behind her back. She was still alive when they pushed her over the side. She died a terrible death. She drowned in that lake! How dare you call this house and pull this sort of terrible thing on me!”

“But…but…”

“Vanessa is dead! I’m calling the police to report you, young man!” The phone went dead.

Shaken, Cody stared at the phone for a few long moments before setting it back on the charger. Had she given him the correct number? Maybe he’d misdialed?

He walked around the counter, stepping into the living room, slowly moving cross the carpet until he could see the entire couch. The buffalo plaid throw was on the couch, one end draped over the arm, but there was no one on the couch. Cody stared at the empty couch and then he spun around, his eyes searching the long room. No one was there. The dinette chair was still pulled out and turned sideways to the table. She had sat there while he’d washed and then bandaged her legs.

Quickly he went to the door, pulling it open and stepping out onto the porch. “Hey! Hello! Where are you?” he called. “Where did you go?”

“What the hell! Are you drunk? Shut up! We’re trying to sleep!” shouted a male voice from the other side of the shrubs bordering the driveway.

Cody stared out into the darkness, the path barely visible. The clouds had thickened. The air felt heavier. He was out in the yard pacing when a vehicle pulled into his driveway, the headlights catching him as he returned toward the house from the head of the path. “Cody Taylor?” a male voice asked as a flashlight was shone in his face.

“Yeah?”

“Did you call a Mr. Thomas Banks in Windsor about a half hour ago?”

“I called a number a girl had given me.”

“Is that girl still here?”

“No, she disappeared. I don’t know where she went to. She came up the path earlier. She was wet and she had cuts on her legs.”

“Can you describe her?” He removed the light from Cody’s face as he approached.

“I guess. A little below average height, slim, brown hair just past her shoulders. Big brown eyes. She was pretty.”

“How old would you say she was?”

“I’m not good at guessing girls’ ages. In her teens, I’d say. High school age.”

Did she say what her name was?”

“No.”

“How was she dressed?”

“Um…a light colored t-shirt. I really don’t remember, maybe a sort of pinky-purple pastel color. And purplish shorts. Darker purple. Like plum colored. She was barefoot. She had the same color polish on her toenails, but it was chipped up.”

“What were you working from? A newspaper article? A rehash story in a local magazine? There were some color pictures of the Banks girl published at the time of her disappearance. So do you want to tell me what kind of a prank you were trying to pull tonight? You’ve upset Mr. Banks and he’s quite angry.”

“I thought he’d be happy to know that his daughter is all right.”

“Son, this is not funny. Vanessa Banks was kidnapped when she was fifteen years old. This was back in nineteen eighty-one. The kidnappers demanded a half a million dollars ransom. Mr. Banks is the owner of a large business in Windsor. He’s quite wealthy. He tried putting together the ransom back then but it took longer than the kidnappers were willing to wait. They abused Miss Banks whom they were holding hostage at a cottage here on the lake. They tied her up, put her in a boat, and then dropped her overboard in the middle of the lake where she drowned. Her body has never been recovered due to the depth of the lake at that point. Her friends reported that she was wearing clothes exactly as you described on the day that she disappeared. Therefore, if Mr. Banks chooses to file charges against you for harassment I will be coming back here to place you under arrest.”

“But…Officer, she was here. She came up the path just after ten o’clock asking for help. I took her inside. I washed her legs and bandaged them for her. She had cuts on them.”

“Yes, she had knife wounds on her legs apparently. One of the kidnappers stated that as they were tying her hands behind her she began kicking at them. They had knives and they slashed at her to get her to stop.”

“The men were caught?”

“They’re serving time in prison. You see, Mr. Banks did manage to get the money together a day later. The greedy kidnappers were arrested when they went to pick it up at the drop location. They confessed to their crime, but for nearly a year they refused to tell where Vanessa was, what they had done with her.”

“She’s really dead then?” He felt sick. Who had that girl been then? How had she known the Bank’s home phone number if he had woken the man up like he had?

“Yes, she is. Residents in this area began reporting seeing a teenaged girl in purple wandering around asking for help about a year after she disappeared. Her description matched that of Vanessa Banks. Photos were shown around and people stated that the girl was her. They reported she appeared to have injuries to her wrists and lower extremities. She was also wet, as if she had been in the water.” Cody was nodding. “Is that what you saw tonight, son?”

“Yes,” he replied, barely able to speak.

“And you say she spoke to you?” He nodded. “What did she say?”

“She said she was at a cottage here at the lake, and then she went over the side of a boat. She said she was in the water for a long time.” He was shaking his head, goosebumps having crept up his spine and down his arms.

“Did she say anything else?”

Cody began to shake his head, but then he remembered something. “Yeah, she said purple was her favorite color.”

The officer stared at him for a long time before he nodded. “Yes, her father reported that. Vanessa liked purple.” He slid his flashlight into the holder on his belt. “Son, I believe you had a visit tonight from whom the folk out here call the Purple Girl. You had a spectral visitation.” He turned, heading back to his SUV cruiser. “I’ll call the Windsor police and report this was a ghost sighting, a rather unusual one at that.”

“She gave me that phone number. I wrote it down on a notepad.” He remembered that his cellphone, fully charged, had been dead in her hand. A shiver ran down his spine. He’d heard that apparitions could draw energy from batteries and other power sources. Had his cellphone provided her the energy for an extended manifestation? “She gave me her father’s number.”

“I’ll note that in the report. You’d best go inside and try to get some sleep now. It’s late. I don’t think Mr. Banks will want to press charges as long as you don’t contact him again.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’ve only lived here a few months.”

“Goodnight, son.”

Cody went back inside as the officer backed out of the driveway. He locked the door but left the porch light on. After turning the chair and pushing it in he walked to the couch, grabbed the throw and shook it out before folding it. Something fell on the floor at his feet. He looked down and saw the gauze pads and roller bandage that he had wrapped her legs in. “She was here,” he said, his voice sounding too loud in the room.

He tossed the folded throw onto the back of the couch, bent and scooped up the bandages, carrying them to the trash. The paper towels he’d used to clean her wounds were in the wastebasket. He pulled them out. They were damp, but there was no blood on them as there had been earlier. He couldn’t get his mind to accept that he had touched a ghost girl, that she had felt real to him. How could that be? If she had been a ghost wouldn’t his hands have passed right through her?

After discarding the bandages, he turned to the counter, looking at the number written on the notepad. “She gave me her home phone number. How would I have ever known a thing like that?” Pushing the pad away, he looked again around the room. She had been here in the cottage. He had spoken with her and she had replied to him. It had all seemed a little strange, but nothing had alerted him to the fact that he was in the presence of a ghost.

Leaving the lights on, he made his way to the bedroom. He was twenty-five years old. He’d been living on his own for several months now, having moved out of his parent’s basement to this cottage. He’d never seen a ghost before in his life, hadn’t even believed in them. But tonight he was afraid to turn out the lights. He was afraid to close his eyes.

He lay in bed staring toward the doorway, half expecting a shadowy figure to materialize there. “Think about stars. Think about comets, and planets, and the moon,” he tried to tell himself, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Vanessa, the girl in purple. Her body had never been recovered from the depths of the lake. She was still down there.

And she would continue to haunt the residents around the lake for a long time to come.

Taking a Break from Art and Back to Writing

I was banging around my house the other day, feeling bored and restless, and realized that there are quite a few binders with partially written stories lying around in the office and the dining room. That made me remember that I had started a companion novel to the Black King/White Queen series awhile ago. It took me a little while to unearth it. I was pleasantly surprised to find I'd written over 62,000 words of the novel.

I took a weekend to read through and refamiliarize myself with what I had written so far of this novel. And yes, I actually took some notes which is highly unusual for me. Over the past week I have been adding to the story nd it's about 2/3 written now with the rest of it mapped out in sketchy one line notes to myself where I want to go and what loose ends I need to tie up before the conclusion.

Although I love drawing, my right hand has developed some neuropathy and joint pain which is new. So, I am setting the ink pens aside for the moment and concentrating on writing (as if typing and scrolling with the mouse will do my hand a world of good, but it has been good for relieving the boredom of a COVID environment. I've always been good at entertaining myself in my head by telling myself stories. I remember putting myself to sleep telling myself stories while lying in the dark. Nowadays I need to remind myself to stop and go to bed because I have work in the morning! Sometimes it's not easy to get the freight train of creativity to pull into a station called REST!

Yes, sometimes I probably do walk around during the day looking like the living dead!!! Haha!

I expect The Bowmen to be finished by the end of summer. Some characters from the Black King/White Queen series appear in this novel but they are not the primary characters, just supporting cast.