The First Ghost.

The "Pepper Ghost" is only the latest of the strange happenings I've experienced in my life.

Before we start, let me tell you that my memory is absolutely amazing. I can remember things from when I was 2 years old. Those memories are a little fuzzy, but very much there in the area of my brain that can be reached. Memories from when I was 4, 5, 6 years old...and up...are vivid. I can remember certain events from my pre-school days with such clarity it seems like it happened 10 years ago...rather than 21 years ago.

Because of my freakish ability to remember details of my childhood, my short-term memory is....oh...um...what was I talking about?

Yeah! It's awful. I can't remember what happened last week. I have to stop what I'm doing and think very hard.

So. Short-term memory=virtually non-existent. Long-term memory=awesome.


My first encounter with a ghost was when I was 6 years old.
My parents and I were in Brazil, visiting family and friends for the entire month of December. We spent most of the time in São Paulo, but also ventured off to Mato Grosso and I think Minas Gerais if I remember correctly.

My mom introduced me to the beautiful country she grew up in. My dad showed me all of his favorite elements of Brazilian culture. It was great.

On a few occassions my parents dropped me off to spend the the afternoon with my great aunt (such a beautiful woman) so they could go on day trips, just the two of them.
One weekend my parents decided to go...I don't know where. My mom's cousin (Tia Lete) insisted that I stay at her apartment and that my parents go off on their own. So, my parents were off and I had a blast hanging out with Tia Lete, Xander (her hubby) and their son, Felipe. Well, actually...Felipe was a brat and was constantly trying to fight with me. But for the most part, it was a fun weekend. We watched movies, played games, the food was awesome, and even though I hadn't met them previously, I felt a deep connection with this side of the family.

The only thing that was slightly bothersome was going to bed early. I've always been a night owl, ever since I was a baby. Still am to this day. And I have always, always, always had trouble staying asleep once I finally drift off.

Tia Arlete's apartment was kind of small. When you walked in through the front door, you were immediately in the dining/living room area. To the left was the narrow kitchen that fit one adult at a time. Not a good area to run to when you're being chased. It's too easy to get cornered and trapped in that kitchen. Take a few more steps into the flat and on the left were two bedrooms. The master bedroom at the end of the hall, Felipe's room to the right, bathroom to the left. Felipe's room was about the size of a walk-in closet. With a twin-sized bed.

Sooo, for fun (and due to the lack of space) Arlete made a little bed for us kids on the living room floor. We were camping out, you see.

I woke up in the middle of the night. The apartment was illuminated by a few nightlights placed here and there, any by the light from the streetlamps that made it in through the cracks in the blinds.

I let my eyes wander around the room when suddenly they locked on to the silhouette standing in before the front door. I sat up, startled, and said, "Hello?".
I was more curious than I was scared.
I guess I knew that the building was very secure with watchmen 24/7. And I'm such a light sleeper I knew for a fact that I would have woken up to the sound of the place being broken into. I kept waking up every time someone got up to go to the bathroom or to get a drink of water.

I stared at the silhouette, which I suspected to be a man. His arms were crossed, and it looked like he was staring at me (that's kinda important....there's a pattern. Remember that as you're reading my next few posts on ghosts). I couldn't see any features. Couldn't see what he was wearing. He just stood there, motionless. Staring. I looked over at my cousin. He was sound asleep. I looked over into the master bedroom. Both Tia Lete and Xander were in bed.

Hmm.

I looked back at the silhouette, confused. I couldn't figure out why the nightlights weren't casting any light on him.
Where this...thing...was standing, he was just a pure black shadow. Not the glow from the nightlight nor the light coming in from the back porch touched him. And where he himself should have cast a shadow on the wall and the floor...there was nothing.

I grabbed my cousin's teddy bear and threw it. It flew right through the figure, hitting the door with a dull thud before dropping to the floor.

I decided that it wasn't a threat and went back to bed.

For an entire week I told everyone about what I had seen. No one really believed me. They said, "It's just your imagination."

Which it very well may have been. But to this day, I'm still convinced that this was my first encounter with a ghost.

The next one I saw was when I was 9 years old.

To be continued...