The spiritual path is a transformative journey of self-discovery, inner awakening, and connection with the universe, transcending religious and cultural boundaries. The spiritual path involves introspection, meditation, and mindfulness practices, leading to clarity and insight into one's true self and purpose in life. Seekers on the spiritual path yearn for enlightenment and interconnectedness with all life, fostering compassion and empathy for others. Spiritual growth requires courage to confront inner obstacles and challenges, leading to personal transformation and evolution.

Two sisters

 Phantom in the cottage:

It is a long cold winter and there is snow on the ground. Not only that but people all over are not going out to work and school is almost closed down as well. That's when my sister was stuck at home trying to do her household chores. I guess life was challenging for us because it was always different from what we were used to. We never felt like the world was moving too fast, which led my sister into depression, and she started seeing that doctor every week. He told her everything was okay, he wasn't crazy, and he just was tired. She kept telling him I know he doesn't care about you not caring for me too, and now I can't even explain what happened to my sister, but I don't blame anyone she got so angry with me and just said that to everyone, that didn't mean anything really, but she had made up her mind, there's nothing I can do besides getting myself back to mental health. When I see her again after three years, I finally understand why she left...

It was Christmas Eve and my sister wanted something to drink to end her stress. So, that was what she got, some vodka. My dad also bought her some wine, and my mom gave her a candle and lighter. This is all they did and it was like nothing had ever changed for them. They never moved their bodies or drank alcohol. Maybe that's what makes them happy. Or maybe it just was never something that got to them. Whatever the reason may be, either way, she was happy. And that's how we stayed sane.

It was one of those strange times that I wish they would stay like this forever. There were no ghosts around anymore, and the whole neighborhood was quiet in the middle of the night. No sounds except for cars and trucks driving past. Nothing made sense, it seemed like everyone had taken off with each other just as if it weren't a normal place to live anymore. Then one day, someone moved their car into our driveway. Nobody knew what was inside until later, they still couldn't find it. Nobody knew it was a new family that moved into our house until they went away, they had nowhere to go. Someone told the neighbors, but nobody believed them. One afternoon everybody was walking through the streets looking like they had just seen ghosts. Some talked about being scared that they were being watched, and others saw shadows in the trees walking alongside them. A couple of things led us to believe it might be a prank, another neighbor told us she thought it was an accident, but as far as anybody knew, it wasn't. What we found out later is that her father drove his family out of town, but even though it was clear he was leaving, they were never seen again. The police started to get suspicious and that led to many sightings. People started to believe it was the ghostly remains of a girl, someone who once lived in the house but who ran away a couple of months before as her parents were expecting. Several days after her disappearance, her body was discovered with bruises around the neck and in her pockets. Her family denied any involvement with her death and her ghost was considered a hoax. Nobody could prove anything. All she had was this piece of paper with her name written out in ink on a piece of wood. I was sure that someone had stolen that from her house before. Perhaps someone stole it from where the previous owner put it away. I thought about keeping it but decided against it. It looked like someone would want to burn it down if they found it before they left town. To make matters worse, other people had gone missing this year, but none of it was tied to the old woman. At this point, I am wondering if these stories were just rumors my sister heard, or if the person was her real father. I never asked her why that was so weird. But then I guess that was also an interesting question. Either way, it wasn't weird. Like most kids our age at this time, we did pretty much stick together, and we'd talk whenever we got a chance, if we could figure out what was going on, we'd tell each other everything. Just like me and my siblings, no matter what. We had secrets that we'd keep hidden behind ourselves, even when we weren't supposed to know. If it weren't for that little paper in our pocket, I swear I'd have never known what was going on. Now, I see how wrong we were that first month of this. Especially after our mum died, we needed to do more than just hang out with friends and visit relatives on holidays. Even though we were close, we weren't allowed to see each other after that and that was something I never understood. It wasn't fair. After a while, I came to understand how bad it was. Every couple of weeks, I'd call my grandparents asking what happened or who I should call, or better yet who I should contact. They always answered the same thing. Their phone was always busy and they never wanted to talk about anything unless you asked about it. But sometimes what they went on to say, was something we wouldn't expect. If something happened to a friend or somebody in the neighborhood, no matter what the situation was, you were immediately shut down within seconds. You could hear your name being shouted across the room. 'Where are they? Where are they?' The voices were louder than usual. For instance, my great-aunt was calling my grandfather, telling him she heard the voice of God telling her grandpa that she was the next to die. Grandpa, on the other hand, simply replied, 'I'm sorry'. How rude. Those were the kind words he was letting slip. Sometimes I wondered whether Grandma had passed or if she was lying to protect us. Would she never stop calling people saying that until she was right in front of us? Wouldn't she be glad to know we were safe? As soon as my grandmother found out her beloved granddaughter was dead, she swore up and down she had no idea what she was doing and never called the police. If it happened to anyone else, we'd never have forgiven a single word of it. My grandma started drinking heavily and was diagnosed with cancer one year later, but it had stopped long before that. Once people in the neighborhood started noticing a change, no one believed anything until later.

When we were five, my aunt decided to move to Toronto with her husband David. Unfortunately, due to economic difficulties, he had to leave for Canada for university where he was studying nursing. However, that didn't stop them. There was this store where my grandma worked that had been hit by a car that was driving north toward us. According to legend, the driver was drunk with drugs and driving off the road. Fortunately, they had a strong faith in God and didn't see any signs of violence. A few people even claimed there had been several deaths linked to the business. Of course, it's highly unlikely due to its location, but some paranormal tendencies can happen anywhere. Whether it was karma or whatever. My aunt always had this habit, if she ran late for dinner she'd throw herself into bed to start preparing myself and my brother for supper. That was her nightly routine. Usually, it was a nice meal at church and afterward, I went straight to bed. But then she started becoming increasingly irritable, especially on Saturdays. Sunday would bring us our favorite dessert and cake, and we used to head straight to church afterward. Then the lights went out and the power went off, which meant everything was useless. Because of this behavior and my mum's illness, she eventually had to give up running the shop due to financial problems. Shortly thereafter, I and my brother became orphans. All the things we'd done together that day suddenly seemed pointless. We were so worried that something terrible would happen, that we cried every time we saw ghostly figures walking toward each other or the flickering light. We spent quite a bit of time looking at screens during prayer time and praying to the spirits. We never knew what it was we prayed to them for, apart from they always appeared. Eventually, I finally figured it out. Ghosts exist everywhere. Well in the universe, if you will. I didn't care what you believed, I simply did. It was part of the fun. I guess they were just regular people in a boring universe and it was the perfect way to spend my childhood. It was like learning about astronomy through books. It was exciting and scary to me when they began appearing because I'd seen pictures before and they weren't just imagination, they were memories. Yet I was determined to get rid of them. I was excited to learn more about them, I wanted to know more about what I did wrong, why I was so anxious, and how I could be more careful. But alas, they were harder than I imagined. And they never stopped coming. Strange things would happen, the lights would dim, there would be noise, and someone would open their door screaming that there is a monster in the woods outside. But instead of just playing it dumb, I'd run to my bedroom, turn to the window and shout 'Don't look out the window, look in the mirror! You'll see!' But there was nothing to see but a reflection of myself. I never wanted to worry about them anymore. They only bothered me when they were in full form. Other times I would play hide and seek with my brothers and scare them when we went outdoors. Most nights I'd put a blanket over our beds and pretend to sleep as it was supposed to be sleeping. Although they are not as dangerous anymore, I still had to keep my eyes open. When we visited a relative's house that was near mine, we had to be extra vigilant; you know, you never know what might transpire if this happened. 

Post a Comment


If you have any doubts. Please let me know.