Chapter 9: It’s Back!
The misty vapor I met yesterday during my nap is back. It is hovering within the doorway of the bathroom and bedroom, and then, “it” effortlessly glides over towards me as if there is a soft breeze blowing behind its back. The bathroom is where the conversation seemed to have taken place, which is also the same place this being had emerged. Except, I no longer heard the muffled voices or sounds of the water dripping since, “it” had once again appeared to me in the doorway. Paralyzed is how I felt at the moment, but this time the spirit did not force me to shake and tremble like before during my nap.
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Dream Detective Synopsis
Up until this spring, I have never flown back through time and space in some sort of dream machine to catch a glimpse of this woman. I am convinced that I did not know her in her lifetime, and our paths have never crossed. You see I am fairly certain this woman is dead, and I have been transported to the year 1983. My name is Abigail Morrison, when I tell my story to others many times their first reaction is to gasp, but mostly they want to know how I survived being possessed. My house was beginning to scare the hell out of me from all of the spirit activity, yet I cannot leave when I’m convinced my house won’t let me. The words the stranger in the library blurted out to me were true, “Someone is trying to get your attention.” She knowing something about my house is creepier than the spirit trying to attack me, and I wonder if the word is out in town that I’m onto something? The thought of my house having up to ten spirits caught me utterly off guard. Having the wind knocked out of me last night also caught me by complete surprise. I felt it enter, but I didn’t feel it leave. This scares the shit out of me. I can’t get the gun out of my head, or maybe I should say the lack of gun. The digital clock above the bar read 7:00 p.m. I knew it was time for me, and the spirit posing to be me to leave the smoke filled tavern. It’s hard to say how I feel about everything, my ribs ache and I find myself looking for an attorney. Never in a million years did I think this would happen to me. It was 2002 when I began to dream of the drug dealers wife found dead on the railroad tracks, except her dream told me something else. Although, Dream Detective is fiction it is based on true events and how I interpreted my dreams, premonitions, the paper trail, and the chatter from the town folk on what could have happened Memorial Weekend in 1983.