Tag Archives: spooks

I Want to Live in a Haunted House

For the first time, I think I can truly understand why people say that their house is haunted. I don’t believe in ghosts. I don’t believe in the supernatural. I don’t believe in anything that can’t be proven with the logical, brute force of Science.


Late last night, I was in bed reading when I thought I heard the back door open and then close. A minute or so later, I heard footsteps walking passed the dining room door. I called out to Emily.

No answer.

I got out of bed and walked out into the dining room and into the hallway. No-one was there. Emily wasn’t home and I was all by myself.

It was a little nerve-wracking.

This is no isolated incident. The doors open and close on their own. The venetian blinds hum and chatter. There are the sounds in the walls like something is pressing to get in.

It’s an old house. It moves and settles and shifts. The doors close and open because they’re too damn loose on their hinges and the wind from the open windows opens and shuts them.

I know it. I internalize it. And I still don’t believe in ghosts. Not one jot.

But….sometimes, when it’s really late at night and I’m all alone in the apartment and I hear those soft and sinister sounds start up again, deep within the walls of the house and moving across the floorboards like cat’s paws, I can’t help but want to believe there are ghosts making their way through the apartment with unearthly purpose.

Because, really, isn’t that more fun that a seventy year old house with some creaky floorboards?



Filed under Horror: Movies, Books, Stories and More

In Search of Ghosts

Since Halloween is now closer than ever, I’ve been getting interested in the spooky again. This time, what with living in such an old city, my focus has been on haunted places: houses, forts, graveyards and what-have-you.

Problematically for me, however, is the fact that I do not believe in the supernatural. This causes an issue when I hear that a scary story is true. I want them to be true. I really want to believe in them, if only so I can scare the bejesus out of myself.

And barring actually knowing if it’s true or not, I’ll even accept a little bit of mystery. I’ll accept the possibility of it being true, no matter how remote it is, just to keep that mystery alive. I want there to be mystery in the world, I want there to be trolls under bridges and magick in old forests and ghosts in the attic.

On the flipside, I can’t abide superstition and I can’t abide a belief in ghosts and spectors and phantoms. There is no such thing as spooks, there is no magic and I raise my eyebrows at folks who believe in those old campfire tales.

So puzzle that paradox out and I’m going to move right along to the point of this blog entry.

In view of the fact that it’s Halloween and taking into account my bipolar views on the supernatural, I decided I’m going to look up a haunted place in Boston and then go take a looksee. My only problem is picking a place to go. I found one place that looked promising, but then saw no other information on the supposed hauntedness of it outside of that one website. Finally, I settled on Fort Warren, a local Civil War Era fort on George’s Island.

Unfortunately I disproved the ghost without ever leaving my chair, which will be the subject for tomorrow’s blog entry.

The point is, I’m disillusioned and it’s only the first day of my grand mission to go to a haunted place. Maybe I need to stop being so skeptical. Except that feels like I’d actually have to turn off my brain, something I’m adverse to doing.

I want to be scared damn it and I refuse to accept that it’s impossible to do so.

Dylan Charles

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Filed under Horror: Movies, Books, Stories and More