The Window

Do you believe in ghosts? There were times I did. Of course, I had every right to believe because my dad would fill our heads with ghost stories - right before we headed off to sleep, while vacationing in Wells, ME. He would tell stories about a man named Edgar Littlefield - a settler in the area, back in the 1600's. There were several cemetaries about with that last name on the headstones. Perhaps Dad read the biographies and then shared the stories at night.

It became a tradition to tell the stories. With every new visitor, came an exciting yet scary tale from a man in the past, visiting his home of the present, as a ghost.

Well, I suppose I knew it was just a story. But something inside of me thought otherwise after one particular evening. The room I was sleeping in was small and the bed was at the corner of the cabin. There were two windows - on of which was above the garage entrance (the garage was under the house and therefore underground), and the other window was just above the ground level. The bed was between the two windows.

I had trouble going to sleep one night so I thought about looking at the stars. As I glanced out the window, I saw the image of a man's face. I immediately turned away and jumped under the covers. I was too scared to leave the room or even to call out. My bed was so close to that window, I curled up near the corner and finally went to sleep. In the morning, I bravely looked out to see if perhaps a ladder was leaning against the house, but there was nothing.

My eyes saw something that night or they were just playing a trick on me. To this day, I still don't like looking out windows at night. I prefer curtains or blinds in them, not shades. Once I pulled a shade down and it sprang back up and I ran out of the room. I would slowly crawl back into the room and with my eyes closed reach up to the shade and pull it back down again - hoping that this time it would stay down.

There are even times now, as an adult, that I won't peer out of a window at night for fear of someone or something looking back at me.