Well, you know, I see... stuff. :: Guest post by author Rae Gee

© Rae Gee
www.raegee.co.uk

I'd like to thank Sarah and Laura for giving me the opportunity to come and write for Ghost and Girl. It's an honour and a privilege.

 

Some people would call me mad. Others may call me possessed. My mother, bless her, calls me “spiritually sensitive”. She's a devout Christian and I'm sure that some of my experiences probably sit a little uncomfortable with her. But, nevertheless, she acknowledges that there are spiritual realms and has come up with a nice, easily packaged term for what I've seen and felt over the years. It sure beats having to say, “Well, you know, I see... stuff”.

 

My day job involves working in a nursing home. We see a lot of sick people and many of the staff believe in the paranormal to some degree. It goes with the territory and, even though the building is less than twenty years old, there are many tales of strange happenings. My boss also tells stories of what happened in her old work place. Ironically, it was the same place my mother had worked twenty years before. Both of them tell exactly the same stories of cold spots, moving shadows, and unseen eyes watching them.

 

I've seen my fair share during the four years I've been there. One morning I was working in one of our downstairs lounges. There was a pile of paperwork to do and it was far more fun to do it while sitting with some friendly faces and watching a couple of movies. I was sitting in one of the far corners of the room. To my left, and just in my line of sight, was the door. Sitting beside that was an upright piano.

 

It was the middle of summer and all the windows were open. There were a lot of calls for drinks, and, as I stood to fetch us more juice, something caught my eye. Turning, I looked to where the piano was and there, in the corner between the piano and the door, stood a figure. It wasn't much taller than me and had no features. The whole being was grey but you could make out the distinct features of a woman. She didn't turn to look at anyone, just stood with her back to the wall and faced the door. A shiver ran up my spine and she disappeared just as quickly as she'd appeared.

 

Asking around, I discovered that the grey lady wasn't an unusual spirit. She'd been around for a while and had always been spied in the downstairs lounge. No one's quite sure whether she's one of the old residents or not.

 

Stories have abounded about a shadow which is seen from the corner of the left eye. For the first year I was working there, I never saw it. From a spiritual perspective, our building has a relatively pleasant feel. I've never felt threatened while being there, even in the small hours (when I've popped in and out for various jobs). There have been buildings I've refused to go in to due to the energy they give off. But ours is generally a happy place to be.

 

Just before we lost several people, I started to see the shadow. And, as a few people had told me, it was there in the corner of my eye. A fleeting glimpse of a tall, human shaped figure that rushed by and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. There was a distinct drop in temperature in that moment and, despite the warmth, I had goosebumps. Again, I asked around and there's the general consensus that the shadow we see is some kind of angel of death. I've seen it many times, normally in the days or hours before we lose someone. Despite the feeling of foreboding and the change in temperature, the being seems to harbour no malice or ill will.

 

We've also had many people speak of the final hours of the people in our care. They talk about how those who are dying will be speaking to people only they can see. Sometimes these are relatives. Sometimes they seem to be beings from another realm. Sometimes the dying person talks calmly to them. Sometimes they scream and lash out, as though in fear of what they're seeing. Obviously the question arises as to whether they're hallucinating or actually seeing spirits. We'll probably never know, although there are many studies into near death experiences where the person involved has experienced something similar.

 

Speaking of strange experiences in places, I used to work in a town called Dumfries. Just across the Scottish border, visually it's a beautiful place. Spiritually it's a nightmare. If there was ever a place which could be described as hell on earth, Dumfries would be it. The people are nice enough but you only have to look a little closer to see that things aren't all okay.

 

I used to take the train to work as I lived in a town about fifty miles away. The journey passed through beautiful scenery with the train lines running alongside the town before dropping in to it. Yet, as you began to draw closer, you could see a dark cloud hanging over the town. It wasn't smog, nor fumes from factories, but a dark cloud of fear and hate. The cloud lingered and was there on every visit.

 

It didn't improve once you were in the town centre and I suspect that much of the rest of the town was the same. The heavy weight of spiritual apathy hung over the town and, despite the presence of a fast flowing river, it never seemed to dissipate. Not only that, there was something about the people who lived there, something I'd never seen before and haven't really seen since.

 

I worked in a store in the middle of the town. Being in a central location was great for doing one of my favourite past times during quiet moments: People watching. On nice days, I'd prop the door open and watch the world go by. While the locals were nice enough, all of them appeared to have some kind of shadowy being that walked alongside them. It was the strangest thing I'd ever seen and felt like being in the Grand Central Station of spiritual activity. Yet I never really felt any malice or apathy coming from the people, nor the beings who walked beside them. And I've not figured out why it happened there and nowhere else. Maybe I haven't been watching hard enough. It's definitely going to be something I try when I visit London again.

 

 

Rae Gee 

[Rae Gee is the author of the Veetu Industries series of LGBT steampunk novels, published by Torquere Press. To find out more about Rae Gee and her books, visit www.raegee.co.uk, her Facebook page, or follow her on Twitter.]