I have a friendly, if not untidy, ghost living with me.
Never once have I felt that ‘someone’s here with me’ feeling in this apartment, so I’m not too concerned.
What I have noticed is things being messy, out of place and just plain weird. I live alone, I don’t have so much as a goldfish sharing my space with me.
For a while I was seeing just white splotches on random surfaces. It looked like somebody had just thrown some flour onto the counter or floor. I pretty much went ‘meh’ and wiped them up. They had no texture, but did go away with a damp cloth.
I also randomly get puddles on the floor of my kitchen. Just in the middle of the floor, with no trail of water coming from under the sink or the fridge, or near any pipes. I don’t live on the ground floor, so it isn’t seeping up from the ground. And it isn’t chronic, or in the same spot all the time, so it isn’t that pipes are leaking under there. Just random small puddles, that I didn’t put there and that didn’t travel there from some type of water source.
I still went ‘meh’ and carried on. After swearing when I stepped in them with my bare feet, of course.
Then two days ago, I found my keys. On the floor. That made me stop and think. I do know that I don’t put my keys on the floor ever. The first thing I do when I get into my apartment is lock the door and then place the keys on top of a bookshelf. Not on the edge of the bookshelf, nice and well-situated up there. When I sit on the couch all night long, I can see the bookshelf. When I sleep at night, I can’t see the bookshelf, but I can hear everything in here. It’s echo-y. Plus, the keys would have fallen over 5 feet, making a loud bang just outside my bedroom door………a deep sleeper, I am not.
But I didn’t hear the keys fall. Not that they could have, they were too far onto the shelf.
I shook my head and thought that maybe I’m just stupid and have no depth perception and thought I’d put them on the shelf, but didn’t, and also coincidentally had no memory of them crashing to the floor. Right, Talea. Whatever.
And this morning was one more thing. I woke up, took myself into the washroom and found my toilet completely clogged with toilet paper. Admittedly, I do sometimes subscribe to the ‘if it’s yellow, let it mellow’ philosophy when it comes to flushing. I live alone, so there’s nobody to offend and I don’t feel like wasting litres and litres of water just for one flush. But that’s beside the point.
The point is that my toilet was clogged with toilet paper that I didn’t put there. There was no ‘excrement’ in the bowl, so I know I didn’t get up and go to the bathroom unknowingly. I also know that I don’t, nor have I ever, had a penchant for jamming toilet paper into the can for kicks. That shit costs me money and I’m not going to literally flush it away for no reason.
Where does this leave me?
In a strange spot. With things randomly moving, flooding and filling themselves up. Strange.
So I’ve either begun sleepwalking unknowingly, or I have a ghost. I suppose the other explanation is that my landlady is hanging out here for kicks. But I’m pretty sure I’d wake up and try to kill her rather than sleep through her intrusions.
Thoughts? Explanations? Confessions?? Money for more damned toilet paper?