I was floating above myself exploring the vastness of tiny places, when I noticed something I hadn’t expected, a head peeking through my wall. It looked at my meditating body, but must not have noticed I was aware and watching it from beyond myself. Whatever it was, it entered the room and began taking stock of my house, walking from room to room, not caring much for doorways or stairs. It didn’t touch anything at first, it just looked, and muttered to itself. “mmhmm… ok… ok… really?…”. Then with a deep breath and a short exhale it went straight to my bookshelf and began organizing them according to the Dewey Decimal system. I watched curious of it’s intentions and endured the irritation of knowing i’d be taking all the books off the shelf later and putting them back the way I like them.
After finishing with my books the obnoxious bastard began taking my DVDs out and putting them in the wrong cases. I snuck up behind the apparition, absolutely perplexed as to why this spirit was in my home fussing all too specifically with my possessions. It turned paintings upside down, filled all my coffee mugs with toilet water, put my socks on hangers, lacerated my shower curtain, put green food coloring in my fish tank, unhinged my bedroom door, clogged the toilet, put the toaster in the freezer, unscrewed the light bulb, all the while I watched, searching it’s actions for reason until it opened a bag of cookies and left them exposed.
The ghost let out a cry, left what i’m assuming was ectoplasm on my kitchen floor and jumped further into the pantry. It looked a little like a smokey chalk drawing disected by shelves. I laughed. The thing slowly peered out into the room, paused, eyes rapidly shifting within a stiffly fixed head.
-What are you?- The ghost asked, looking upward searching the corners of the ceiling for answers.
“I’m pissed is what I am. What are you doing to my home? Do you feed off my irritation or something?”
-Your irritation, what about my irritation? I look in here and everything’s in the wrong place. The food can’t breath, the movies are wearing the wrong clothes; you’re living in chaos. I’m doing you a favor.-
“I’m just going to put it all back the way I had it.”
-Put it back? What… why would you do that?-
“Look, I don’t care if you wanna come by from time to time to talk or play Cribbage or something. To be honest I’ve got a few questions for you, but for the love of god don’t touch anything.”
-Are you insane? You want to play games and talk about the weather as if you don’t live in shambles? You can enjoy this nightmare mad-house you’ve created, but I am never coming back. Ungrateful dick.-
And then it left through the wall mumbling obscenely. I closed my third eye and began cleaning the house. I put the books in order according to size. i returned my chairs so they could be sat in, and washed my coffee cups. The straightening calmed me and i began to slip once again outside myself. My body was quite methodical, cleaning from livingroom to basement, top to bottom, left to right. Everything going back to the way it had previously been before my visitor had arrived. At last the house was in order and weary from cleaning my body laid down.
The unnoticeables of the day received their voices, and passing cars and foot steps were muffled by buzzing electric street lights, and the clock’s assurance that time was being kept. The toilet and the sink seemed to be enjoying a conversation about something pleasant, and as the night became cool, the wood in the floors and walls cracked its joints and tightened into place. Outside leaves meandered and cat’s searched for mischief. I slowly became aware of all the happenings in the neighborhood, when faintly i heard a humming. A humming that seemed to be coming from inside my house, and was growing louder. Inside my office on a wall where i hung my notes, was another ghost, slowly removing my thoughts from the wall.
I nearly shooed this one out as well, but noticed it was not the same as the last spirit. In fact its form was entirely different. This one didn’t have legs, just a dress hung in the air by a head and arms. i assumed it would do as the former so i waited for it to create some disorder. But after it had taken down all my notes, it set them lovingly on my desk, all the while humming. It faced the wall, and then smeared something red on it in almost a dance like motion.
“Is that blood?” It stopped suddenly, slightly turned, slightly fluttered.
“Beat it Jackson Pollock.”
It turned to steam and as if sucked threw a vent it was gone. Suddenly there was a scream and a crash in the kitchen. A young asian girl dressed in moon-light white stood at the sink, washing a dish. Then she vanished and the plate fell. She reappear cowering, covering her face, screaming. The plate broke against the floor. With the shattering sound the girl once again vanished and the screaming stopped. But there she was again, standing at the sink trembling as she washed another dish. Drop. Scream. Crash.
“Stop stop stop, I’ll wash the dishes, you can go out and play.”
Then she screamed sitting in the corner, then balled up under the table, cowering near the stove, peering from a cupboard, on her back dragged by her long black hair. A strobe from place to place, always reappearing screaming.
The screaming stopped. I took myself above the house to look at the neighborhood. Apparitions were everywhere, picnicking on a neighbors lawn, vacuuming carpets, chatting with each other, driving cars, playing in a tire-swing. There were swirly mists, floating orbs, torsos, full bodied figures, some with horns and tails, some with wings, some were just shadows that moved without a form. Some were black, some were white, some were blue or gray. Every house on my street had at least one in it, or near it. Except mine. A mist moving along the sidewalk crossed the street when it came to my house, and then continued on.