Benevolent spirit

Once again she had awoken late, which was unlike her, and in her dressing gown and slippers, surveyed her living room, surprised at what she saw. It wasn’t as she knew it, and what she was used to. It was different. It was tidy. Margaret Hayes was 65, and had lived on her own for twenty-one years. She looked at the spotless carpet, the polished ornaments on all shelves, and could detect an odour of marine scented air freshener.

She hadn’t necessarily lived in squalor, but last night, she was certain it wasn’t like this. Had someone broken in and tidied up? Had someone possessed her while she slept and forced her to do it herself? This thought quite alarmed her. Margaret had been quite susceptible to believing in things supernatural. Whenever a psychic came to a nearby theatre, she would book front row tickets, and sometimes she had been in an audience for shows that have been televised. The spirit world to her was as real as the physical. The thought of possession scared her. She’d seen it done. She’d been there when those possessed were speaking in a foreign, long since vanished language. Perhaps it was the ghost of the previous tenant who finally couldn’t take any more untidiness, and decided to interact with the physical world by possessing Margaret.

She decided to check the front door anyway, just incase someone had broken in. It was untouched, as was the back door. There were no signs of any break in. This brought her to the conclusion that it had to have been a ghost.

The following morning, having woken up late again, she hadn’t even reached the bottom of the stairs before she noticed something was wrong. There were three, full bin-bags at the front door, as though they had been prepared to take out. They hadn’t been closed, and she could see that they were full of clothes. Heading back upstairs into the bedroom, she opened the cupboards to find she had only a few clothes left. Most of them had gone. She was all for giving to charity, but this was a bit much, so eventually she rehung her clothes, confused as ever as to who the ghost was, and why they were haunting her.

The following morning, again, waking up at ten am instead of eight thirty, she found that someone, or something had been in the kitchen. The fridge door was open, and food had been spread across the counter, some of it eaten. A milk carton had been opened, which she knew she hadn’t opened the previous night. This ghost was hungry.

She was growing more and more anxious. One person who might know, was her friend at church, Nora. She was in touch with the spirit world. If she came to the house, she might be able to communicate with whoever was haunting her. She would give it one more night, and if anything was different the following morning, then she would be on the phone to Nora, telling her to get round here, fast.

When she woke up the following morning, it was by noise, the sound of the television stirring her awake. She was surprised to find herself standing in the living room, with the remote control in one hand, and the television about to start a programme which had fascinated her four days ago. This was a repeat. It was about people who do strange things whilst sleepwalking.