It was one of the old mansions in town that got everyone exciting about this particular estate sale.
I was there bright and early so I wouldn’t miss anything. The article said that everything had to go and the attic was filled to the rafters with cast offs from decades of storage. It’s something that feeds the imagination.
I was talking to a few people before the doors opened. Everyone had something special they were seeking: old dinnerware, toys, dolls, silver, old clothes, furniture, fixtures, etc.. I understood even the chandeliers were going and those were original with the house. I was daydreaming and missed the rush of bargain hunters when the door opened.
I was almost ready to leave as soon as I entered the residence.
I was assaulted with muggy air — it was thick and hot. I was feeling a little ill, but I continued on as though nothing was wrong. I took a hankie from my purse and gently dabbed the moisture off my face. My glasses were sliding down my nose and become a bit foggy.
I did see an entity a few feet away from me, frantically trying to get my attention or anyone’s attention in the room. Every time I walked away my legs buckled out from under me. It was awkward for me to just stop in the middle of the room and converse with a ghost, but it was giving me no choice. Every place had people milling around, so I just had to do the best I could to hear what this trapped spirit wanted to say to me. With my hankie still in hand, I thought this may cover the fact I was actually talking to something that others couldn’t see.
“My home is being destroyed, who are these vandal?” were the first words addressed to me.
I didn’t know if I was in the vandal category or if he thought I would help him in some manner — maybe to get rid of the rift-raft which I couldn’t do for him. I tried to explain that this was no longer his house and others had lived there over the years. He wasn’t buying any of it. He spoke of losing his wife after the children moved away and hadn’t seen them for a very long time.
Well, all that was back at the turn of the 20th century. I told him his wife and children and grandchildren were all waiting for him and he could leave at any time.
“I do hear my name being called. It sounds just like my Anna,” he said sadly shaking his head. “Is she trapped here? In the walls?”
“No, she’s beyond the walls. Come outside with me,” I said.
I didn’t see the bright light, but I saw swirling white mist circling the entity of the tried old soul. I just got pieces of conversation, almost like there was static on an invisible line. His wife was coming for him. He was having quite a reunion with his loved ones. I couldn’t help the big grin on my face.
Some people were leaving the estate and others were coming in while this beautiful passage was taking place. Then there was silence.
To be honest with you, I believe I came to the estate, not for antiques or a look around the mansion, but to help this trapped soul. As soon as he was gone, I felt free to go, as though my job there was done. I was also exhausted and felt the need for a nap.
In my sleep, I was visited by the man and his family. He asked why I hadn’t been there earlier. My only reply was that he wasn’t ready then. I believe I’m drawn to where I need to be. He seemed to accept that. That was good, because it was the best explanation I had at this time.
I hope you enjoyed this Real Ghost Story.
Thanks for stopping by!
Sharon
