Then Who Followed You?

According to the person who first told this story it is true.

Our aunt took my older brother and I in when our mother died but when she remarried her new husband arranged for us to move to a rental property he owned.

It suited us well for it was in the inner city as opposed to the suburbs so it was close to my brother’s work and my art school.

The home was a traditional bungalow that was built in the mid-1920s. It was one and a half stories with an old-fashioned veranda and full cellar.

As it turned out this cellar came in handy for a year after moving in I formed a “garage band” and this cellar was an ideal place for us to practice.

Every Saturday and Sunday afternoon my band members would come over and we would practice until the early evening--my brother liked this because he was at work and didn’t have to put up with the our “noise.” After practice we then would go out and grab a bite to eat and see if there were any girls who caught our eye.

My members often complained that it was a pain to set up their equipment. They had to carry their instruments, amps etc. up the porch steps and in through the front door and walk back through the living room and dining room to the kitchen and then tote everything down some steep steps. To break down everything was the same pain but in reverse.

One late Saturday evening as I listened to their expected ribbing about what a chore this task was it started to rain lightly. Fortunately, most of the equipment was already packed inside a car but some equipment was in the bed of one friend’s truck so it was exposed.

I went back into the house to retrieve a tarp from the cellar. Once down the stairs I heard a noise--I looked across the large room but the boiler and heater that sat in the middle of the cellar blocked my view. Feeling uneasy I wondered if I should just leave.

I then saw a dark shadowy figure dart from one side of the room to the other out of the corner of my eye. I had always been told that if ever I saw a ghost I best ignore it and walk away.

But I became angry because I was afraid--I unwisely decided the best course of action was to be assertive. So I turned toward where I had seen the figure and announced out loud, “Would you just get lost. I do not have time for this nonsense right now.”

Acting upon a false sense of bravado I found the tarp and walked back up the stairs and grabbed the long string that turned off the exposed light bulb I slammed the door shut behind me. I turned the rest of the lights off as I walked from room to room.

I didn’t stop for I felt a presence at my back. I did not dare turn around.

As I reached the front door I turned off the last light inside. The streetlight flooded the entrance to the house as I quickly shut the door and locked it.

As I made my way down the porch steps I felt silly that I had gotten “spooked.” I convinced myself it was just my overactive imagination. I took a deep breath and walked to the truck.

It had stopped raining but I covered the bed with the tarp just in case. I opened the door and sat down. As I fastened my seat belt one band member asked, “Wait, isn’t your brother coming with us?”

Perplexed I told him, “no my brother is still at work."

The other band member in the truck then asked me, “Then who was behind you as you left the house?”