October 24th, 2008 | 18 Comments »

Nan has challenged me to write a true ghost story. Which to choose? I have plenty.

I have slept in the deathbed of two different people. Different beds. The second was completely uneventful.

The first was old Dan Coakley’s deathbed. Yes, the bed came with the house. It was an estate sale. That worked for us because we had sold our house and everything too expensive to move, and used what we could in the death house located right next door to the house where I was born.

They look too happy to be near a haunted house, don’t they? One time, my pyro brother, the one on the left, saw something that made his eyes go very wide, and his face go white. He was too young to talk then. We can only guess.

My mildly amusing OCD stepmother often heard a baby cry in this house.

I could live with that. What got me was this one night, (at band camp?) when I had prepared myself for sleep with my beauty routine of putting my hair in rollers, and tying a scarf around my head to keep said rollers in place, I noticed a buzzing in my ears.

A very loud buzzing.

I extracted a beetle from my headgear.

Still buzzing.

Went to the mirror, saw that my head was covered in beetles. And my bed as well.

Imagine the freaking out. Head slapping and screaming ensued.

I think old Dan was objecting to a female in his bed wearing hair rollers. Maybe it pissed him off when his wife did that. Because nothing says no nookie like a woman wearing painful bristley rollers on her head. Unless of course, she sews the hem of her nightgown shut.

He got his way. I never wore hair rollers to bed again.